Category: English

I was kidnapped by my dad’s enemies. The kidnappers called my dad, who was a cop, and threatened him. “Mr. Murphy, your daughter is with me! If you want her alive, come here yourself! Or I’ll chop her into pieces!” The tip of the kidnapper’s knife grazed my throat, sending chills down my spine. “Another kidnapping stunt?” My dad’s voice was calm. “Aurora, you’re really despicable!” “Dad, I’m not lying! I swear I’m not!” I pleaded, my voice hoarse. “They’ll really kill me!” “Then why don’t you just die?!” His cruel curse left me stunned. “Dad…” I choked up.”I’m only 18. I don’t want to die…” “Please, Dad! Save me!” My dad hung up the phone immediately. I stood there, stunned, listening to the busy signal. Tears streamed down my face, colder than the knife at my throat. The kidnapper didn’t give up and called again.”Samuel! Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill your daughter?!” “Then go ahead and kill her!” This time, my dad’s voice was filled with anger. “No matter how much you torture or even kill her, it has nothing to do with me!” As the call ended again, I heard cheerful music on the other end, mixed with laughter from my stepmother Pamela Hughes and my half-sister Sherry Murphy. Oh, right, today is Sherry’s birthday. The three of them were having a grand celebration. The kidnapper, frustrated, called again, but my dad’s phone was off. He threw the phone in a rage. For some reason, I started laughing. The kidnapper slapped me hard. “You bitch! What are you laughing at?!” Tears fell from my eyes as I stammered, “I’m laughing because you kidnapped the wrong person…Why would he care about me? To him, I’m less than an insect…The one he truly cares about is my half-sister!” I laughed, but then suddenly started crying. I looked up at the kidnapper, begging, “I’m worthless to him. Taking me won’t help you. If you let me go, I’ll give you lots of money! I… Ouch!” A sharp knife plunged into my abdomen, and pain spread instantly. I screamed in agony. He just laughed wickedly. “Even your dad doesn’t care about you. What right do you have to live? Why don’t I send you to heaven early? Oh no, I can’t let you die that quickly! I’m going to torture you slowly. Consider it paying off your dad’s debt!” From that day on, it felt like I was in hell. He tortured me endlessly, right up until my last breath. I thought, it’s finally going to be over. This must have been my dad’s wish all along, right? Didn’t he always tell me to hurry up and die? Well, I’m about to die now. Just as he wanted. At the end of my memory, I heard the kidnapper’s eerie and distant voice. “Remember, the one who killed you isn’t me, it’s your dear dad! I’ll carve out your heart and send it to him!”

I’m dead. The killer was a ruthless kidnapper. He not only killed me but also dismembered my battered body. He cut out my heart and placed it in a beautifully wrapped box. I watched him skillfully handle my corpse, feeling nothing. Because I had become a spirit. Spirits don’t feel anything. I couldn’t feel cold, tired, or pain. I watched him deliver the gift box to my doorstep before dawn, saying, “Samuel, I bet you won’t stay indifferent when you see your daughter’s heart!” I laughed again. He’s so foolish. Too bad he missed me this time. Why would my dad care about me? If he cared even a bit, he wouldn’t have completely ignored me. Eighteen years ago, my mom loved my dad deeply. She used some tricks to get close to him and got pregnant with me. She then forced him to marry her, preventing him from marrying the woman he truly loved. So, he hated my mom and despised me, the “bastard child.” He never cared about me growing up. If he truly cared, how could he let me be killed and my body dismembered? Still, I’m curious to see his reaction to this “gift.” The door opened. It was Sherry who came out. She walked in happily, holding a gift box. Soon, there were screams and roars from inside. I floated into the room and saw the gift box overturned on the floor, with a heart rolling around. My dad angrily took out his phone and sent me a voice message. “Aurora! How could you be so cruel? It’s Sherry’s birthday. Instead of celebrating with her, you send this disgusting thing to scare her! I must have done something terrible in my past life to deserve such a hateful daughter!” I lowered my head and floated over to the heart. I squatted down and gently touched it. My translucent hand passed through the dark red flesh, but I felt no warmth. After all, it had been out of my body for so long. Even if I could feel, it would have no warmth left. I looked up at my dad’s hysterical face, wanting to tell him, “Dad, it’s not some ‘disgusting thing. It’s my heart…Just because it scared your daughter, you hate it that much?” Of course, my dad couldn’t hear my questions. He made another call, angrily ordering, “Aurora is suspected of harassment. Arrest her immediately!” I didn’t know what the person on the other end said, but he got even more agitated. “She is not my daughter!” “She is a monster!”

I remember the first time my dad called me a monster was ten years ago. Back then, my mom was bedridden with a severe illness. She was gravely ill, lying in bed and coughing up blood. I begged my dad to take her to the hospital. Pamela stopped me. She was my dad’s favorite woman, and she was several months pregnant. But for some reason, she fell down the stairs. She bled a lot. The sight of all that blood made my legs go weak, and I fainted. When I woke up, I found myself locked in a closet. Ever since I was little, whenever I made a mistake, I’d get locked in the closet. This time, I didn’t even know what I did wrong. I cried and banged on the closet door. “Dad! Let me out!” “I’m scared. It’s so dark in here!” “Dad, please let me out! I’m begging you!” No one answered. I stayed in that cramped, dark closet for a long, long time. Just when I thought I was going to die, the closet door was yanked open. My dad stood outside, his face cold. He looked at me with disgust, like I was trash. “Do you know what you did wrong?” His voice was icy. “I… I don’t know.” I shook my head in panic. “Dad, I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t. Believe me. I didn’t push Pamela. She fell on her own.” Mentioning “Pamela” seemed to hit a nerve. His eyes flashed with anger, and he slapped me hard! “You little beast! You’re truly unrepentant! Pamela almost died because of you! She’s lucky! If anything had happened to her, I would have made you pay with your life!” My ears were ringing. It felt like all the yelling was muted. I could only stare at him, watching his mouth move. His twisted expression was like a horror painting, haunting my mind for years. It would jump out and scare me from time to time, just like now. I watched him angrily hang up the phone, glanced at the bloody heart, and frowned. I followed his gaze. Oh, it didn’t even look like a heart anymore. Its surface was covered in shiny bits, probably leftover confetti from last night’s birthday celebration. The servants hadn’t cleaned up yet. My dad’s eyes were fierce. He kicked the bloody mess with all his strength. My heart rolled out the open door. I chased after it, trying to catch it, but my hands passed right through it. I watched helplessly as my heart fell into the dirt, like discarded trash. I crouched down carefully, looking at the filthy mess. I should have felt sad. But as a spirit, I couldn’t feel sadness. Yet, I wiped my eyes. It was strange. Why were my tears falling? A phone rang inside. I turned to see my dad frowning as he answered a call. Maybe spirits have sharp senses. I easily heard the voice on the other end. It was a young girl. She’s my best friend, Marilyn Carter. “Samuel! Aurora is missing! I can’t reach her at all! Can you help me find her?” “Don’t pull the same trick twice!” My dad suppressed his anger, scolding coldly. “Marilyn, out of respect for your dad, I won’t hold this against you. But you’d better not stay friends with Aurora! And don’t contact me about anything related to her again!” He hung up forcefully, ignoring Marilyn’s explanations just like he ignored mine. I floated in front of him, staring at his disdainful expression. I couldn’t understand why he hated me so much. “Mr. Murphy! Something’s happened!” A young officer ran in, panting, “Your phone was off, I couldn’t reach you.Last night, they pulled a woman’s body from the moat! She had… Aurora’s phone and wallet on her!”

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My sugar daddy’s first love came back. So I stepped out and decided to marry a tycoon. Little did I know, I was already pregnant with the baby of my sugar daddy.

Recently, I found myself plagued by an intense itchiness in my most private area, accompanied by an unfamiliar discharge. It had me scared. Shockingly, online search results suggested it might have been due to frequent sexual activity or having multiple partners. But that didn’t make sense. I didn’t even have a boyfriend. The more I read, the more uneasy I felt. I couldn’t bring myself to confide in anyone as I was terrified of the judgmental stares. So, I snuck off to the hospital for a check-up. What I hadn’t anticipated was that my older sister’s boyfriend, Michael Thompson, would be the one to see me! Discreetly, I opened my phone, located my sister Emily Johnson’s chat, and meticulously compared the photo she had sent me. It confirmed my worst fear. Instantly, embarrassment flooded my cheeks. How could there be a male doctor in gynecology? And to make matters worse, it was Emily’s boyfriend! I had only ever heard Emily mention that her boyfriend was a doctor, but she had never specified gynecology. At that moment, I wanted to bolt. It was just too awkward. But before I could even turn, the door to the consultation room swung open. “Samantha Johnson!” I instinctively let out a sound, feeling everyone’s gaze, including Michael’s. I wished I could just disappear. But leaving then would have only made things worse. With a deep breath, I stepped into the consultation room. Thankfully, Michael didn’t recognize me. Well, we had never met before. I only knew him from the photo Emily had given me. It was perfectly normal for him not to recognize me. Thinking this way, I felt a small sense of relief. I would just treat it like any other check-up with a stranger. Just as I began to feel a bit relieved, he dropped a bombshell. “Take off your skirt and lie on the bed,” Michael said, eyeing my skirt. “I… I have to take off my skirt?” I was beyond shocked. What if he found out I was Emily’s sister? And what if Emily found out? How could I let Michael do this kind of thing? But now I was caught in a dilemma. I couldn’t just say I was Emily’s sister and refuse his treatment. Then how would he see me in the future? Would he think I led a chaotic private life? And if he happened to develop negative feelings towards Emily in the process, my guilt would be even greater. “It’s just a routine check-up to rule out any potential underlying issues. Early detection leads to early treatment.” He paused for a moment. “In a doctor’s eyes, there’s only the patient, no distinction between genders,” he added, perhaps trying to ease my embarrassment and concern over his gender. At this point, I had run out of excuses to avoid the situation. So, I braced myself. After all, he didn’t know me, and I could pretend not to know him. Plus, what if my condition was serious? What if delaying treatment worsened it? Lying on the hospital bed, I closed my eyes. “Take off your skirt and your underwear.” His voice snapped me back to reality. My face flushed red, and I awkwardly complied, feeling like the whole world was watching. It was as if everyone knew, and my mind was in turmoil. Here I was, undressing in front of Emily’s boyfriend. I wished I could disappear, wished nobody knew me. “Spread your legs.” Oh god! Was I going to expose myself like this to Michael? Reluctantly, I complied and exposed my most intimate part. I felt mortified, and at that moment, I could sense the intrusion of something.

I felt like a cold instrument was prying open the most private part of me, a place never before seen by a man. The chill sent shivers down my spine. And then it hit me. I needed to pee! At that moment, I wished the ground would swallow me whole. I tried my best to hold it in, but Michael gave me a reassuring pat. “Relax.” I trembled, almost losing control. Thankfully, Michael’s examination was gentle. Unlike what I’d read online about doctors being rough, he was nothing like that. His touch was soft, gradually calming me down. But my mind couldn’t stop racing. What if Michael found out my identity? What if Emily found out? Panic and an indescribable thrill consumed me. No one could be in a more awkward situation than I was at that moment. Unable to resist, I cautiously peeked through the gaps between my fingers, which were covering my eyes. I had to admit Emily had excellent taste in men. Even with a mask on, he still looked great. I had seen Michael’s photos before. He looked handsome in pictures, but in person, he was even more striking, with a remarkable presence. He conducted the examination meticulously and earnestly, treating me like any other patient without a hint of impure thoughts. However, when his fingers entered for the examination, the stark contrast between their warmth and the coldness of the instrument sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t help but tremble, feeling my strength drain away. My body involuntarily squirmed, and his fingers seemed to stick to me like suction cups. It was a sensation I had never experienced before, leaving me feeling light-headed and almost weightless, as if I were floating, disconnected from my body. So, this was what it felt like between a man and a woman during lovemaking. And to think, he was Emily’s boyfriend! My mind, as if a floodgate had been opened, began to entertain increasingly bold thoughts as his examination continued. What if Michael and I…

My cheeks were burning, probably as red as a tomato. I could feel the heat radiating off them. Would he be more forward if he knew who I was? Would it be even more exhilarating? No one outside could fathom the unique relationship between me and the doctor inside. Suddenly, through the gaps between my fingers, I noticed stains on the blue disposable mattress. The discovery stunned me. I had wet myself in front of Michael! How could I be so sensitive? I was here for a medical examination. Michael was just doing his job. How could I react like this? This discovery sent me into a panic, making me feel like the world was slipping away from me. I wanted to get up, but Michael’s hand gently pressed against my abdomen, the warmth of his palm draining my resistance. I lay back on the hospital bed, feeling too weak to even consider the implications of my relationship with Michael or think about the future or Emily. All I wanted was for him to have something that could truly come inside, embrace me, melt me, and make us one. My mind went blank, and I didn’t even realize I was biting my lip, letting out soft moans. It was as if I was urging him, tempting him to take control, even if he was Michael. All I could feel was the incredible comfort below my abdomen, tingling and soothing. It was like my soul had drifted away. I couldn’t believe how uninhibited I had become. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I spotted Michael holding a mirror, which he had somehow retrieved without me noticing, aimed at my private area. I saw my most intimate parts. It startled me, bringing me back to reality. And then, I realized that the source of my comfort was Michael’s hand. The instrument had been removed without me noticing. His fingers were completely enveloped by the delicate folds of my flesh, giving me an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. As his fingers moved within me, it felt like they were touching my soul. All I could think about was pulling him close, merging our bodies. As I quivered, I couldn’t help but wonder what Michael was planning. This was way beyond what a doctor should be doing. I had some vague suspicions, but I didn’t dare to dwell on them too much. He had been Emily’s boyfriend, after all! Despite wanting to resist, my body kept responding to him. It was incredible how comforting this sensation could be. But in my haze, I noticed Michael’s white coat had disappeared, and he stood before me completely naked. His movements became rougher, and his eyes seemed bloodshot and excited like he wanted to consume me. Listening to his heavy breaths and deep voice, I trembled. Even though he was Emily’s boyfriend, I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. Suddenly, I felt a surge of jealousy towards Emily. Why had he belong to her? Why couldn’t he be mine? As long as I kept quiet, who would know? I looked up, my gaze soft. Suddenly, my legs instinctively wrapped around Michael’s waist. He leaned in closer, locking eyes with me, his expression carrying a hint of an unreadable smile. “Samantha, You’re soaked…”

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I was an Alpha’s daughter, sheltered and petted, and had just yesterday married my childhood friend. Joyce had always been sweet to me, so I thought he would be a good husband. Little did I know, he had a cruel streak that was going to destroy my whole world. Just after our wedding day. “You know, Evelyn,” he says, interrupting me and taking a step closer so that he’s glaring down at me. “I really thought a girl like you – you know, a pretty girl, a noble girl, would be trained to please her husband. I am so…disappointed. To find that you’re not.” My eyes instantly fill with tears. “Joyce,” I whisper “What did I –“ He comes close to me so that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “making love to you,” he whispers, “is like a dead fish. You just lay there” he grits his teeth, “like a piece of meat. I wanted a wife to meet my needs, and now I’m tied to you, you pathetic, whiny little pup, forever.” Joyce turns away from me and walks to the window, shaking his head. “What a waste.” I am shocked and mortified. I stand in the middle of the room, wearing only my lacy thong and my stilettoes, trembling as tears stream down my face. “We’ve only had one night,” I whisper. Should I have known what to do? I was so scared – I’ve lived such a sheltered life and, of course, came to my wedding bed a virgin to honor my husband. Joyce laughs and won’t look at me. “Once was enough.” “I can,” I murmur, “I can…get better…” Joyce turns to me, snarling. Suddenly he’s in front of me, wrapping his hand against my throat, pushing me backwards until my back hits the wall. “You can’t get better,” he spits out, “because you don’t have it in you.” “You’re a fucking wolf, Evelyn” his teeth are fully bared now. “A wolf, and you fuck like a rabbit. I thought I would wake it up in you when I took you to bed, but you were…pathetic.” He snaps out the last word. I can feel his spittle drip down my cheek. “You’re no Alpha’s wife,” he says, releasing me to walk away. I drop to my knees, sobbing and gasping. I always knew Joyce was powerful and proud, but I have never seen him cruel. “Joyce,” I cry out, desperate. “Joyce, I’m sorry – I didn’t know! I’ll do anything you want – I’ll learn, I can change!” “Change?!” Joyce furiously grabs me by my hair and hauls me to my feet. “You can’t change what you are, you omega fucking bitch.” He drags me across the room and hurls me into the closet where I fall into a heap. He slams the doors shut and I’m suddenly in darkness, my only light coming from a crack between the two French doors. I hear the closet’s lock click. “You want to learn, Evelyn?” I hear Joyce’s words faintly – he’s across the room by the door to our suite now. “Then watch how a real woman pleases an Alpha. And if you make a fucking noise,” I hear the suite’s door creek as he begins to pull it open, “I’ll gut you like the prey you are.” I scramble for the door and press my eye to the crack. I hear a laugh – a woman’s laugh! – and the sound of footsteps. Two figures come into my line of sight – Joyce, and someone else in silky pink chiffon. Joyce growls and pulls the woman’s head back by her hair, exposing her throat. He runs his sharp teeth down the length of her neck and she laughs, running her hands down my husband’s chest, stomach, lower – until she – I gasp and slap my hands across my mouth. Her hand slips into Joyce’s pants and she groans. He growls and kisses her suddenly on the mouth, hard and slow. She pulls away and runs her hands through his hair, worshipping him. “I only exist to please you, Master,” she says, dropping to her knees and reaching up to unbuckle his belt. Joyce takes a step back so that he leans against the footboard of our bed and I finally see the face of my betrayer. Emma, my own sister, who stood next to me yesterday at my wedding. I fall back into the closet, unable to watch any further, and cry until my eyes are dry. Minutes or hours later – I’m really not sure – I wipe the tears off my face with the palms of my hands, trying to put my world back together. Was it a nightmare? It must have been, except…it was so far beyond anything my mind could have created, even in the darkest dream. My heart is completely shattered. My sister on her knees…my husband…the day after my wedding… Slowly, something awakens in me and I feel warmth spreading through my chest and my veins. Rage, anger, power. I have been embarrassed and betrayed – but damnit, I am my father’s daughter. I will not be humiliated like this. My lips pull back from my teeth in a snarl as I discover that what I want is not my husband’s back, but revenge. My Alpha husband wanted to teach me how to please him, but what he really awoke in me was something more powerful: my own Alpha nature. It has been sleeping inside me, but now it’s awake and hungry for vengeance. I rise to my feet and feel around the dark closet, stopping when my hands feel silk. I pull the dress off the hanger and slip it on. Dress is a generous term, I think, as lace cups my breasts and silk pools around my hips. This is more like lingerie, which I had intended to wear tonight when Joyce and I returned from the Alpha party. This morning I’d have been mortified to be seen in public wearing this. But now, everything has changed. I hunt around on the floor until I find a bobby pin and bend it into the right shape, working it into the lock and quickly turning the tumblers to release myself. I smirk as I walk steadily into the empty room. See, Joyce? I have some skills you wouldn’t expect from a nobleman’s daughter. I stride out of the room and walk boldly down the hallway, drawing eyes wherever I go, but I don’t give them any notice. I’m only looking for one thing. I enter the ballroom. Servants are just putting out their finishing touches on the annual Alpha party, which is a triumph of marble and gold. But that’s not what I came for. I scan the ranks of arriving guests, looking…there. At the top of the balcony stairs, Victor leans against the railing, swirling a Manhattan in his glass. Victor, heir to the Alpha throne, who outranks Joyce in every way and is two inches taller than him to boot. Perfect. I move towards him, keeping my eyes locked on his face, moving in a graceful prowl I didn’t know I had in me before tonight. As I move up the stairs he glances up once, and then twice, his lips falling open as I hold eye contact. “So, how have I never met you before?” He leans against the balcony. I close the gap between us and softly tug the half-full glass of whiskey from his hand.

I’ve been around, I say, my voice low and husky. “I thought I knew everyone in my kingdom,” he says, subtly scenting the air between us, trying to catch a whiff of my scent. “Not your kingdom yet,” I say, smirking, “and apparently, not everyone.” I take a cheeky sip from his glass. I lean in closer, turning my face up to him, bearing my neck. He can smell me now, I know, smell my unique scent as well as my desire. A growl rumbles in his chest. “Who are you,” he says, standing up to tower over me, closing the distance between us so that there is just a sliver of space. “Who is your sire.” “I’m single, and Alpha born,” I say, holding the space between us though every instinct in me tells me to quail. “Don’t worry. I’m no cheap piece of meat.” This time, he lets the growl slip between his teeth. “Come on,” I say, pulling Victor away to a dark corner alcove. “Let’s dance.” Inside, I stand close to Victor and begin to sway my hips to the music that the DJ just stared playing. I looking up into Victor’s face, breathing him in, relishing his smell, like winter air and pine. Starting to feel the music, I shake my head so that my hair cascades across my bare shoulders, but Victor takes my chin in his palm and makes me look up at him. “What’s your name,” he asks. “Evelyn Walsh,” I smile and then turn, pressing my back to his body, letting him feel me. Victor breathes out, a sharp breath, and then I feel him start to move with me. He runs a hand down my side, the other wrapping around my stomach, pressing me closer. As we dance, I feel that new thing rising within me, the wolf that’s never before had a reason to raise its head. But now I feel it racing, a wild thing finally freed. I laugh and reach my arms up, wrapping them around Victor’s neck. Victor turns my face and claims my mouth, as I wanted him to, unable to resist. He kisses me hard, his breath coming heavy against my lips. “Fuck,” he says, breaking away. “I can’t do this.” “No, it’s okay,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I want this. It can just be one night.” “One night,” he growls, clenching his teeth as I run my hand down his stomach, lower, as I saw my sister do earlier tonight. He grabs me by that hand and gives me a warning look as I smirk, knowing I’ve won. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging me towards the entrance, “and be discreet.” Victor takes me back to his room, checking around every corner to make sure we aren’t be seen. As soon as the door shuts, he is on me, running his hands across my body, down my back, grabbing my ass. I give into the impulses that claim my mind, telling me to get closer, to touch more. I hastily pull my dress up over my head, tossing it to the ground and stepping forward. But Victor steps back, away from me, and for a moment I hesitate. Then I see his eyes, hungry, devouring me as I stand before him naked except, again, for my thong and high heels. “God, Evelyn,” he says, his voice a low growl. “Evie,” I whisper, a little breathless. “Call me Evie.” Then, there’s no stopping us. We come together, Victor lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him, running my hands through his hair. He carries me over to the floor-to-ceiling window and presses me against it – I gasp as the cold glass touches my skin. I slip down against the window until I’m lower and I can Victor against me, his hard cock pulsing. I pull his shirt over his head. “How do you like it?” “Um,” I say, biting my lip, suddenly shy. “I don’t…I don’t know.” “Then I’ll show you,” he says, lowering me to the floor. I run my hands down his rippling abs and then slide his shorts off his body. “Fine,” I say taking in the sight of his full, magnificent body – his dick hard and thick. I can feel myself growing slick, ready. Victor turns me around, pressing himself hard against my ass. Then he puts a hand between my shoulder blades and presses gently. “Hands against the window,” he says. I comply. Victor slides my panties off and moves his foot between my heels, tapping against the inside of my shoes to demand, wordlessly, that I spread my legs. I do. I feel him slowly run his hand up the inside of my thigh, higher, higher, until – I inhale sharply, feeling him slowly trail a finger across my wetness, toying with me. I moan as he adds another finger, slipping inside me, and then dipping lower to touch me at my crest. I moan louder now, my knees going weak. Victor pulls his hand away. “More,” I moan, and the next thing I feel is something harder, thicker, pushing against my sex. “Fuck, Evie,” he says, pressing into me, “fuck it, I can’t wait.” Suddenly, he’s inside of me, sheathed to the hilt, and I press my hands against the glass, crying out as I feel every inch of him inside of me. Victor moves, hard, fast, holding my hips against him. I can feel him lean over me, his stomach touching my back, as he fucks me from behind. Suddenly, he pulls away from me, and turns me around, picking me up again and carrying me to the bed. “Please,” gasp as he puts me down on top of the clean, soft sheets. “Please,” I beg, pressing my mouth against him, climbing on top, needing more.

Victor holds me by the back of the neck, biting my shoulder as he reaches down and grabs his cock, and then, gloriously, he’s inside me again. I sit up and arch my back, writhing my hips against him. I look down into Victor’s eyes, my mouth open in awe. I never knew it could feel this good. I press my hands against his chest and close my eyes, moving my hips faster, faster, until – I hear Victor curse beneath me and open my eyes to see him gasp, and then clench his teeth as he comes. The sight of him – so powerful, so strong – sends me over the edge and I yell out, seeing stars and falling forward on top of his chest where I lay, panting and smiling. “God,” I say, after a few minutes have passed. “If I knew it felt like that…I’d have been doing this a long time ago.” Victor cups my ass and laughs softly. “Well get ready,” he says. “You’re about to do it again.” I smile and kiss him. “Yes, Alpha. Whatever pleases you.” In the morning, I wake tangled in the sheets. I blink the sleep away and sit up, looking around. “Victor?” There’s no answer. I move to get out of the bed and hear the crumple of a paper. Turning over, I pick it up. STAY HERE, EVELYN. I’LL STRAIGHTEN THIS OUT. DON’T LEAVE THE ROOM. My stomach drops and, on instinct, I reach for my phone before realizing – duh, of course – it’s not there. Frantically, I grab the remote and turn on the TV to the local news. Has there been some kind of disaster? Then I drop the remote, horrified, suddenly, to be confronted with pictures myself – my face ­– splashed across the screen. “These photos were taken just last night,” says the journalist voiceover, “of soon-to-be Alpha Victor Kensington cavorting with an unknown floozie. Citizens are outraged, as this goes directly against Kensington’s well-known stance on family values.” I gasp as more pictures scroll across the screen. Pictures of me, pictures of me and Victor, pictures of me and Victor dancing in what I thought was our secret alcove – walking down the hall…disappearing into this room. And – oh my God – pictures of us in this room, taken from outside the window – oh my god the window – My hands pressed up against the glass, with Victor behind me – I throw the remote across the room and pull the blankets over my head, sick at what I’ve seen. The fucking paparazzi – I should have known. Of course, I’ve never had a reason to even think about them before –my father has kept me safe at home, no one cares about what I do. The sound changes on tv and I peek out from beneath my blanket. There’s a podium set up on a stage now with reporters gathered before it. A blue box at the top of the screen reads “LIVE.” As I watch, a figure walks onto stage – a too familiar figure: green-eyed, well-muscled, a gaze that could stop a freight train. Victor. I cover my mouth with my hand and lean forward, rapt. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” he starts, flashing everyone his trademark smile. “Thank you for attending this early-morning press conference which I have called to stave off the rumors.” Lightbulbs start to flash in the crowd. “As I know many of you are aware,” he begins to smirk, “some rather…racy photographs were released last night, without my permission. “I want to begin by putting to rest the rumors that this was an illicit affair. As your future Alpha leader, I take my actions very seriously. While I wished to keep our new relationship personal for awhile, the press has forced my hand.” He glares at them. “The woman in the photos is not just a one-night-stand, but instead my new girlfriend – Alpha-born Evelyn Walsh, daughter of John Walsh, our nation’s Director of the Interior.” The reporters go mad, shouting out questions. Victor begins to respond, but suddenly a snarl rips out from the back of the room. The primary television camera pivots and turns its own attention to the wolf at the back of the hall, standing with his feet apart, his teeth bared, ready to kill. A shriek claws its way from my throat. Joyce. “Bullshit,” he growls, his chest heaving, his claws beginning to emerge from his fingertips. “Evelyn Walsh is my WIFE!” Joyce charges into the crowd, heading straight for Victor. The reporters scream and scatter and then – the feed cuts out to commercial. I pant and stare at the screen, unbelieving. I wanted revenge, yes, but this has spun out of control. Everything fell apart after that. I can’t say I regret ruining Joyce’s life, but Victor’s…I never meant for that to happen. His reputation was ruined after the press discovered that he lied at a live press conference and slept with another Alpha’s wife. Joyce sued me for infidelity and had me marked as rogue. I was expelled from the pack. After two months of scraping by on my own, I got an even bigger surprise in the form of a positive pregnancy test taken in the bathroom of a gas station. That’s where the world turned for me. I decided my child wasn’t going to suffer for my mistakes. I applied to a smaller, more progressive pack and enrolled in graduate school. It wasn’t easy at the start, trying to raise twin boys and study on the side, but I was determined. Six years later, I see the events of that night as a blessing. I am now a counselor who helps people every day make their relationships stronger. And best of all, I have Ian and Alvin – my twin boys, my stars, my lights in the darkness. Little did I know, my past was just about to return and put it all in jeopardy.

“I need to taste you right now, Evelyn.” Mark’s voice is thick with desire. “Get your ass up here.” I smirk at him, enjoying the view from my position kneeling down by his hips. Mark is all stretched out on my bed, six-foot-five inches of tanned, brawny lycanthrope handcuffed to my headboard. He’s all mine, for now. “I don’t know, baby,” I purr, hiking my silky blue nightgown up over my thighs and straddling him, writhing my hips against him in a way that makes him gasp. “I think I like you just like this.” Mark growls at me and bares his teeth to reveal his sharp incisors. “Come here,” he commands. I laugh softly and crawl up his body, running my hands over every inch of him as I go. “So impatient,” I whisper as I brush his lips with mine. “Uncuff me,” he pants. “I have to fuck you. Now.” I kiss him slowly and move my hand to the bowl on the bedside table where I keep the key, but my fingers slip against empty porcelain. I pull away from Mark in confusion. “Did you move the key, Mark?” I ask, sitting back and so I can look all around. Did it fall under the bed? “Baby,” he says, “please…don’t tease me like this.” “No, really,” I say, tucking a strand of my long brown hair behind my ear. “It’s gone.” The muffled sound of giggles erupts from the hallway. We have our answer. “Boys,” I call, glaring at the door. “You owe Mark an apology.” The door cracks open and two pairs of impish eyes peek around the corner. Ian, slightly braver than his twin Alvin, laughs and pushes the door open. “If he can’t get out on his own,” he says, bounding into the room, “he deserves to stay locked up!” His eyes are bright as he leaps onto the bed. “We know this is mommy’s favorite game – we added a twist!” He smiles wickedly as he begins to bounce around. “It’s no fun if there’s no challenge.” Alvin tiptoes softly into the room, characteristically cautious and shy. “We won’t do it again,” he says, making his way to the top of the bed and artfully unlocking the cuffs with a bent paper clip. “We hid the key!” Ian says, bouncing higher. “We don’t remember where we put it! But we don’t need it anyway.” I narrow my eyes at my boys – I didn’t raise them to be rude. I reach out a hand to snatch Ian by the waist and pull him down to me in a hug. “Enough jumping,” I say, placing a kiss precisely on his nose. “Too early for that, and I haven’t had my coffee. Plus, Mark is waiting for his apology.” “Sorry, Mark!” The boys chorus, Ian’s voice bright and insincere, Alvin’s soft and earnest. “Um…” I hear Mark say from beneath me, his voice unusually timid. I look down and am surprised to see that he’s bright red. “Can I…” he murmurs, “have my pants, please?” I laugh gently at him and reach forward to caress his face, enjoying the feeling of his rough stubble against my palm. “No need to be a prude, Mark, it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. We’re not shy about bodies in this house.” “Yeah!” Says Ian, smiling down at him. “It’s natural! Hey, are you our dad?” Alvin perks up at the question and turns wide, hopeful eyes towards Mark. I laugh at both of them and give Ian a nudge. “Okay, now you really are making him uncomfortable. You know he’s not your dad – the man who sired you is far, far away, and he’s not coming around anytime soon. Uncle Mark is just mommy’s friend,” I say, smiling. “Sometimes he sleeps over.” They’re so curious about their father’s identity, and I don’t mind. They’re just kids. But no way in hell will I ever tell them that secret. “Go on, babies, get ready for school and I’ll come make you breakfast,” I say, ruffling their hair and pushing them towards the door. Mark rubs his wrists and watches them go. “You have a…unique way of handling things, in this house,” he says. I don’t take it as criticism. “It’s true,” I shrug. “But there’s no reason they should grow up with outdated, old fashioned ideas about sex and relationships. I am an independent woman,” I say, leaning my body forward and stretching out against the length of him. “And I’m not going be ashamed of that, especially not in front of my boys.” I run my hand down the length of Mark’s obliques, and then lower, feeling him harden against me. “Now,” I murmur, wrapping my hand around his thick cock. “I still have time before the boys go to school. Where were we?” Our kitchen is a cheerful one, with bright sunshine flooding in through the windows and the smell of coffee in the air. Alvin reads the back of his cereal box while Ian tips toy army men into his mostly-empty bowl, watching them drown in the dregs of milk. I sip slowly from my mug, relishing the warmth that floods my body. I close my eyes for a moment and smile, remembering Mark’s performance this morning. A man of many talents, not least of which are in the bedroom. Now that he’s gone, though, I turn my focus to more important things. “Homework done?” I say, moving to the table to collect my boys’ empty bowls. “Yes!” They chorus. “We have good news, mama,” Alvin says, beaming up at me. I raise my eyebrows at him, inviting him to say more. “We’re going to be in a quiz competition!” Ian takes up the conversation seamlessly, something he’s been doing since the twins learned to talk. Alvin and Ian are so different, I think, looking them over as I put their bowls in the sink. But sometimes they seem like they’re two halves of one person, able to speak each other’s mind. “Oh really?” I ask, “a quiz competition? How did you enter that?” “They invited us,” Alvin says, stepping away from the table and neatly pushing in his chair. “After we played so much on the quiz website and did so well.” He shrugs slightly. “We always know all the answers.” I frown and lean against the counter. “Quiz website? When did you do that?” “At school,” Ian says, collecting his army men and putting them – still wet – in his pocket. “We get bored in kindergarten, and the teacher lets us use the computer. We found the quiz website all on our own, and we got all the answers right, and they want us to come compete!” I nod and smile at the boys, making a mental note to have a conversation with their teacher about how they spend their class time. “Okay,” I say, “Let me look at the details and we’ll see. In the meantime!” I clap my hands twice. “Get your backpacks! Time to go!” The walk to school is quick and I enjoy the crisp air as we walk. Ian scampers ahead, looking for frogs in the damp grass, but Alvin stays close to me, holding my hand. “Mama,” he says softly. “Do you think Daddy will see us in the quiz competition?” I am surprised by the question and look down into his big brown eyes. I run my hand over his hair and cup his cheek in my palm. “Why do you ask, Alvin? Why all these questions about your dad today?” He shrugs and looks away; I can tell he is a little disappointed. Ian is suddenly next to both of us, though I didn’t notice him listening or looking back. “We just want to make him proud,” Ian says, smiling wide and revealing the gap left by the loss of his front tooth just last week. “Don’t worry about that, boys,” I say. “I’m proud enough of you for two parents, all on my own. A thousand parents!” I wrinkle my nose at them, and we hear the school bell ring softly in the distance. “Oh no!” Alvin says, genuinely concerned. “We’re going to be late!” The walk home after I drop the boys off at school is some of the only me-time I get during the day. After this, it’s all work, work, work. As I walk, I pull my phone from my back pocket and open my favorite guilty pleasure app, CelebGoss. Unfortunately, the first thing pops up on the page is not an anonymous, vapid celebrity arrested for a DUI. Instead, it’s Victor. Victora and Amelia, Back Together, Hotter than Ever, the headline reads, followed by dozens of photos of our future Alpha King and his supermodel mate lounging on the beach, her sipping cocktails, him groping her ass. I feel my cheeks turn red and return my phone to my pocket. “Not interested,” I mutter. The last thing I need to see are pictures of Victor and his mate in the next chapter of their toxic relationship. What are the chances that today, of all days, my sons ask twice about their father and then his picture is the first thing I see when I open my phone? Is the universe trying to tell me something? I shake away the anxious thought and hurry home. I promised myself a long time ago that Victor would never know about our children. It’s a secret I plan to take to the grave.

I wave goodbye to Melissa, my client, as she wipes her eyes and walks to her car. She’s going to be all right – but wow, what an exhausting session. As she drives away I click my phone open and check my email, pleased to see that the confirmation I was looking for is there. “Boys!” I call, “get your shoes!” My children clatter around in the living room before spilling into the hallway, Ian hopping on one foot as he pulls on his sneaker. Alvin carries his shoes carefully and sits down to tie his laces. “What’s happening, mama?” I feign surprise, teasing them. “What, didn’t you want to go to the quiz show?” “Really, mama?!” Ian’s face lights up and he throws himself against me in a hug. “We can really go?!” I laugh and hug him back as Alvin joins us. “Well, you earned it, and I could use a break from my work. I contacted the show and it’s all real – you earned your place. Since you qualified together, though, you have to play as one. Are you okay with that?” “Yes!” they say together, two pairs of bright brown eyes smiling up at me. “Okay, into the car!” I say, smacking their bums as they pass. Off we go. “Alvin and Ian Ortega,” the receptionist says, her eyes wide. “This…this is them?” I nod, a hand on the shoulder of each boy. “Yes,” I say. “Is there a problem?” “No,” she says, shaking her head, surprise clear on her face. “They’re just so…young. You know,” she tears her eyes away from them and looks at me, “most of the contestants on this show are…adults. Doctors. Lawyers. Educated people.” “It’s not a mistake!” Alvin chimes in. “We qualified!” He slips his printed-out paper onto the desk. Ian gives the receptionist a gap-toothed grin. “Well,” the receptionist said, taking up the paper. “I guess…everything’s in order!” She laughs, “you’re the youngest contestants we’ve ever had! This will make for quite a show.” The receptionist waves a hand at the backstage door and the boys scamper off towards it. As I begin to follow, she stops me with a light hand on my arm. “You know, you really are lucky,” she breathes, “to have two such children, so handsome, so smart…” I smile warmly at her and gently pull my arm away. “Thanks,” I say. “I know. I count my blessings every day.” I catch up with my boys at the door and wrap each up in a hug, placing a kiss on the top of their heads. “Be good,” I said. “Try hard, of course, but overall you must remember to have fun, and be polite.” I narrow my eyes at Ian in particular. “No funny business.” “Okay, mama,” Alvin says, smiling his sweetest smile. “I wish dad were here,” Ian says, looking at me a little wistfully. “I want him to be proud.” My stomach turns with guilt, but I put on a smile anyway. “We’ve talked about this, boys. Your father is a great man, but he’s very busy – he’s out there doing big, big work, and helping people. He loves you,” I say, hoping, deep down, that it’s not a lie. “He just needs to be somewhere else. But he’s out there, thinking about you, and he’s proud.” The boys nod at the familiar story and a stagehand calls “Ortega?” from the backstage area. I gently push the boys forward and watch them run away to be prepared in hair in makeup, or whatever they do. I shrug and move to the craft services table, pouring myself a cup of coffee. The competition is very intense. I sit in the audience with my hands wrapped together in my lap, my legs bouncing with anticipation. I try to keep my face smooth so that if the boys look out into the audience they will find their mother placid and serene. Ha, what a lie. “Is the answer….magnesium?” Alvin ventures, his voice tremulous. The boys stand on stage behind a podium. Their answer appears in text on the front of the podium. A big pause, and then… “Yessssssssss!” The announcer shouts enthusiastically, and the crowd goes wild, me included. I am on my feet clapping for my boys, shouting their names. “You’ve done it!” The announcer says, “On to the final round! Congratulations, Ian and Alvin Ortega – you have the chance to be champions of Quizzzzz Nation! We’ll be back, after this commercial break!” A red light above the stage goes off and assistants rush around, blotting the host’s face with makeup, moving Alvin and Ian to a new set of podiums where they will face the previous champion, a scientist from LA. He generously shakes hands with the boys, who, I am pleased to see, greet him politely despite their excitement. “Thirty seconds,” an announcer says. Stagehands scatter and I take my seat. “Now before we get into the final level, let’s take a moment to get to know our newest contestants. Alvin and Ian,” the announcer says, leaning casually against their podium. “You are our youngest contestants ever and have, amazingly, made it to the final round on your first try. To what do you owe your amazing accomplishment?” “Our mom is real smart,” says Ian, and the crowd laughs. I blush and smile. The announcer smiles back at them, charmed. “And what will you do, if you win Quiz Nation? Spend your money on big prizes?” “We’re gonna find our dad!” Ian says, and the crowd hushes awkwardly. I huff out a breath of air and paste a smile on my face. What is with the dad stuff lately? “Yeah,” says Alvin. “Our dad is real busy, but we want him to know he can be proud.” “I am sure…he is very proud of you already,” the announcer says, a little stiffly, and then moves on the show. “Let’s play Quizzzzzzz Nation!” The competition continues, heating up as the twins fend off question after question. Behind the stage, an intern walks up to the title sponsor, carrying the trophy in her hand. “Um, sir?” she says, not daring to tug on his sleeve to get his attention. “What,” the man snarls, spinning to turn his angry attention to her instead of to the woman with whom he’s arguing. “Um, it’s almost time to present the trophy?” The intern whispers. The man grabs the trophy from her and she skitters away. He could care less about Quiz Nation, it’s just another media appearance to demonstrate to his people that he’s invested in arts and culture. Whatever. “It’s just not in the cards right now,” Amelia says to him, her arms elegantly folded across her chest. She leans back slightly, unphased by his rage. “I’m not having a baby.” “Deciding you’d rather defer having children for another time is different” he growls, “than getting pregnant and taking abortion pills to kill my child. Did you do it?!” His face grows red with rage. “Look, leave those stupid rumors aside, Victor,” she says, cool under pressure. “The fact is, I’m not into having a family right now. My career is on the rise – I’m scheduled to walk at Paris fashion week in the spring. I’m not giving that up to pop out a kid.” She narrows her eyes at him. “You never respected my career, my dreams. I don’t just exist to fulfill your demands and bear your pups. I have a life too, Victor,” she says, turning away in disgust. “I’m not playing your game.” Victor stands, clenching his teeth and rubbing his brow. His Beta comes forward to stand next to him, silent in black, but there if Victor needs him. “Maybe you’re right,” Victor says, rubbing his brows. “Maybe we do need to go to counseling.” “It can’t hurt, sir,” the Beta says, stoic. “In the meantime,” he gestures towards the trophy still gripped in Victor’s hand. “Right,” Victor says, “this stupid thing. What’s this show called, again?”

There’s a pop and confetti fills the air. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer shouts, “for the first time ever, we have a tie for the win of Quiz Nation!” The twins jump in the air, shouting amongst the noise, while the two contestant podiums display the same final answer written across their fronts. The announcer presses his finger to his ear, listening to his tiny earphone. “I am told,” he says, “that according to the Quiz Nation handbook, that we are obliged,” he pauses, letting the crowd cool down to listen, “to award the Quiz Nation title to the returning champion!” Half of the crowd cheers while the other half boos, clearly rooting for Alvin and Ian. I boo along with them, disappointed for my boys. “The rules state that in the rare case of a tie, the team with the smaller number of players wins! As Alvin and Ian are a pair, and Jim played individually, he is our winner! All of this knowledge coming from one brain instead of two is just a more impressive feat.” The boys’ faces fall in disappointment. “But we worked so hard!” Ian shouts. “And we’re so young -” “But that’s not all!” he announcer says, interrupting him. “In recognition of their great accomplishment, today Alvin and Ian Ortega are being awarded the rare People’s Choice award, to honor them for winning our hearts! Congratulations, boys!” I laugh as the boys begin to jump and cheer again, their sadness easily wiped away. I guess any trophy is just as good to them. As the boys rush forward to wave to the audience, I slip out of the room, hoping to get a bathroom break before I meet the boys backstage. All that coffee was a mistake. On stage, Alvin and Ian shake hands with the winner and come forward to receive their prize. A tall man comes forward from the left stage wing, carrying two trophies. He hands one to the victor, shaking his hand, and moves forward to chat with the host. “Do you see him?” says Ian. “He’s so tall. He looks like me!” “He looks like us,” Alvin corrects, staring at the man with the trophy with wide eyes. “Wow. I wish he was our dad, that’s what I always imagined he looked like…” The man finishes his conversation and turns towards the boys, ready to present them with their prize. When he sees them, though, he stops dead, the blood draining from his face. He hunches his shoulders instinctually, a predator, and comes towards the boys, scenting the air between them. The boys stand stock still, not afraid, but cautious. When the man gets a whiff of them, he gasps and the trophy slips from his fingers to the ground, breaking into three pieces. The man stumbles back, staring at them, and then turns, storming towards the wing. The boys watch him go, not even caring about their lost prize. In their hearts, they know what they have found. Victor paces back stage, mind-linking to his Beta, demanding that he come heel immediately. The boys were his children – there was no denying it. But how – where – He runs his hands through his hair and grits his teeth. Where did they come from?! How did he not know?! His Beta arrives with a quick salute. “The boys, who won the competition,” Victor spits out, the Beta nodding, “find whoever brought them here. Bring her to me, immediately.” “Yes, sir.” The Beta is gone in a flash. There is a blur of motion from the stage area and suddenly Victor feels two small somethings crash into him. Looking down, he sees a little boy attached to each of his legs, their arms wrapped around him like tiny koala bears. One boy even slips to the ground, wrapping his legs around Victor’s ankle, determined never to let go. “It’s so nice to meet you!” That one says, beaming up at him. “We’ve waited our whole lives!” “We know you’ve been busy, we understand,” says the other, smiling up at him and revealing a missing front tooth. “We got our wish!” Says the other, his eyes shining with joy. “Because we worked so hard, and won the competition! We wished for our dad, and we got him!” “It’s our prize!” Says the other, burying his face in the side of Victor’s suit jacket and sniffing deeply, learning his scent. For a moment, Victor freezes, not knowing – for the first time in his life – precisely what to do next. But then, he feels a warmth in his stomach, an instinctual urge, and he places a hand on each child’s head, caressing them. “If you won a dad, then I won the better prize,” he says softly, “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to meet you.” Victor stares down at the boys, feeling both delighted and overwhelmed at once. They were such an utter surprise – so handsome, energetic, smart and – well, so much like him. He could smell it on them, and see it on their faces – they were of his body, he had no doubt. Exhaling a big breath he didn’t know he was holding, Victor shakes his head at the boys, marveling that a life’s dream could come true in such an unlikely fashion. He had been longing for a child – hoping to have one with Amelia, his beloved mate and the future Luna. But she had put him off year after year, wanting to accomplish other things first. His family, too, had begun giving him sidelong glances at holidays and making hints about grandchildren and heirs. The newspapers as well had to begun to make sneaky jibes about infertility and look elsewhere amongst the pack’s Alpha population for the heirs to the line. All of it had filled Victor with anxiety, with rage. But here, suddenly, were the solutions that put all of that to rest. And made his hopes a reality. Two boys, even – what a blessing. But where…who… The sound of frantically clicking stilettos fills the room as a woman turns the corner, anxiety in her voice as she calls “Boys!? Boys!” The Beta strides around the corner just after her, working to keep up. Evelyn stops mid-step, frozen, staring at the image of her boys wrapped around the legs of…of… “You,” rasps Victor. “Oh my god,” says Evelyn, at the same moment. “It’s you.”

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After picking up my daughter Evelina from preschool, she came home in tears, clutching her broken cochlear implant. “Mommy, that boy in my class said this thing is ugly,” she sobbed. “He told me if I dared to wear it again, he’d hurt me.” Fuming with anger, I immediately tagged the boy’s mother in our class group chat. To my surprise, her response was shockingly arrogant: [So what if my son broke it? I even stole your husband—messing with your daughter’s things is nothing. [Sure, you’re the legitimate wife, but you gave birth to a defective child! [My son is the eldest grandson of the Clapham family and the future heir. Who do you think you are?] Even their teacher chimed in, advising me to let it go. [Ms. Isabel Quiller, maybe it’s best to apologize.] Ms. Lytton suggested gently. [After all, you’re both the wives of the Clapham family’s sons, but she gave birth to a healthy boy. Rich families still prioritize sons, don’t they?] I laughed, though there was no humor in it. Immediately, I froze my husband’s credit cards and called him directly. “What did you do? Using my money to fund a mistress while letting her bully me?” I demanded. He cried out in protest. “Honey, you can’t just accuse me of things because I’ve been away for a week!” I was in the study reviewing some documents when my daughter suddenly interrupted me. Before I could say a word, she burst into tears and threw herself into my arms. “Mom, Mommy!” “I don’t want to wear my hearing aid to school anymore!” Hearing her choking on her sobs, my heart tightened. I quickly took her shoulders and asked why. As I spoke, I noticed a clear crack on her hearing aid. Her next words confirmed my suspicions. “Murray Clapham in my class said this thing is ugly. “He… he won’t let me wear it. “He ripped it off my head and threw it on the ground.” Seeing her so upset, I felt a mix of sorrow and anger. Gently, I wiped away her tears. “Sweetie, don’t cry. I will set things straight.” But just as I reached for my phone, her small hand pressed down on mine. Her face was a mixture of fear and desperation as she shook her head. “Please, Mom, don’t. “We can’t afford to cross them! “His family… they’re the richest in town. He’s the son of the richest family.” Her gaze fell, her voice drained. “Never mind, Mom. I’ll just wear a hat to school tomorrow… “So he can’t see it.” I paused, puzzled. The richest? Wasn’t that supposed to be me? After all, I controlled the family’s finances and held the real authority. Since when did I gain a son without knowing? Seeing my daughter so downtrodden ignited a fire in me. “Evelina, don’t worry,” I promised. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to school with you. Let’s see who dares to bully you then.” After calming her down, I picked up my phone and reopened the class group chat, which I hadn’t used in ages. I tagged Murray Clapham’s mother. [Are you aware that your son deliberately broke my daughter’s cochlear implant?] Typically, I was patient, even kind, when handling mistakes made by my employees. But now, seeing my daughter bullied, I found all my composure gone. The once lively group chat went silent as soon as I sent my message. The lack of response from the person in question only fueled my anger. I tagged her again. “Ms. Sara Thomson, are you aware of what your son did?” This time, she responded, and her reply left me speechless. She posted a picture of her son’s hand in the group chat and then tagged me. [Oh, it’s you!] she began. [My Murray came home saying his hand hurt—it’s all red! [Turns out he scratched it pulling that thing off your daughter’s head. [I haven’t even come to you about it, and here you are, acting all offended. Do you even have any shame?] Reading the endless messages from her, I was dumbfounded. I had never seen anyone so brazenly shameless! I typed back without even thinking. [Well, your parenting is certainly a revelation. Truly remarkable. [Seems like there’s no point talking to you here. Let’s discuss this in person at the kindergarten tomorrow!] But as soon as I hit send, her response came back even more brazenly, flaunting her status. [You? Who do you think you are to talk to me? [Do you even know who my son is?] Right then, Daniel Parker’s mom jumped in, quick to support her. [He’s the son of Hughes Clapham, the wealthiest man in the city! [Evelina’s mom, you’d better apologize. Maybe they’ll forgive you if you’re lucky.] Seeing that familiar name, I couldn’t help but laugh. [When we all joined, didn’t we confirm each other’s identities? [Hughes Clapham is my child’s father. Or is there a case of mistaken identity here?] This time, Murray’s mother, sent a voice message. Her shrill voice rang out through my phone. [No mistake at all. We share the same husband! [It’s just that I gave him a son, and you only have a daughter.]

I was so upset that my phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the table. [What do you mean?] I typed back. Sara sent an emoji first, then boldly revealed her identity. [I’m Hughes’ mistress—but that’s about to change soon enough.] Reading her message made my skin crawl. Daniel’s mother chimed in immediately, ready to flatter her. [Mistress? Who cares about that? Anyone who bears a son is practically a wife!] Jeremy Hayden’s dad joined in. [Only someone as wealthy as Hughes Clapham could pull that off. Impressive!] Then Andrew Tuttle’s mother added her voice, hoping to score points. [Sara, you’ve got real talent—you have a boy, and a strong one at that! [You’re set for life now.] I recognized each word, but somehow, seeing them strung together left me struggling to process the meaning. Immediately after, Sara tagged me directly in the group chat. [Technically, I should show you some respect. [But you only gave Hughes a daughter and a disabled one at that. [Meanwhile, I had a boy. Need I say more about who’s more valuable here? [My son will be the heir of the Clapham family someday. But hey, if you get your daughter on her best behavior, I might just let her stay around in the future.] I couldn’t hold back any longer and typed back furiously. [Are you out of your mind? [Do you really think I wouldn’t know if Hughes had a mistress? [I’m here talking about my daughter—don’t bring up other stuff!] Daniel’s mother immediately jumped in. [Isabel, it’s not too late to admit you were wrong. [You’re all part of the same family, but her son is the firstborn heir, isn’t he?] Andrew’s mom couldn’t resist adding: [Exactly. So you’re the wife. Big deal. All you have is a useless daughter, and you know as well as I do that you are never going to be respected for it.] Their words, heartlessly discussing my daughter’s disability, made my whole body shake with anger. Without a second thought, I grabbed my phone and called my assistant. “Look up everything you can on Daniel Parker and Andrew Tuttle’s families!” The call ended, but new messages were popping up in the group. Sara taunted: [I took your husband. My son damaging your daughter’s hearing device. What can you do about it? [And consider what might happen if you cross me. [Hughes would definitely leave you if I asked him to.] Reading the enthusiastic messages cheering Sara on made me feel sick. I was just about to respond when Ms. Lytton, Evelina’s teacher, called. “Is this Isabel Quiller?” I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. “Yes, this is she. I just wanted to understand—” She cut me off sharply. “I know this might not entirely be your fault,” she said. “But let’s be clear. Do you even know who you’re dealing with?” “What kind of person are you talking about?” I muttered, feeling speechless. Ms. Lytton clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Look, I know both you and Sara are wives of the Clapham family’s sons. “But don’t you understand who holds more weight here? “Wealthy families have always favored sons, and let’s face it—your daughter has her own issues. “So, tell me, what makes you think you stand a chance here?” Her words were like a punch to the gut, leaving me nauseated. If I didn’t have Hughes’ every move under careful watch, I might have actually wondered if he’d really betrayed me. When I stayed silent, she took it as her cue to continue her “guidance.” “Honestly, the best thing you could do is let this go. “This is just kids playing around, right? He’s the Clapham heir. If he wants to roughhouse a little, who’s to stop him? “Just think it over carefully.” I finally snapped, my voice rising. “Tomorrow morning, I want a face-to-face meeting with Sara. “Please make it happen.” I hung up, heart pounding, a throbbing pain building in my temples as fury and disbelief washed over me.

Before going to bed, I decided to cut off Hughes’ credit card. Soon after, he called, sounding a bit cautious. “Honey, my card’s not working. I was just about to buy Evelina a gift.” I could barely contain my irritation. “Oh? So you’re using my money to keep another daughter on the side, and you even had a son?” There was a moment of confusion on the other end. “Honey, you’re accusing me of something here. What’s going on?” Still fuming, I filled him in on everything that happened today. He protested his innocence and assured me he’d booked a flight and would be home by tomorrow afternoon. That night, I slept beside my daughter. Her little cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were a bit swollen. The more I thought about Sara’s dismissive attitude, the more I couldn’t sleep. Early the next morning, the nanny came rushing in to tell me, “Evelina won’t put on her cochlear implant.” A pang of sadness struck me as I entered her room, where I found her quietly wiping away tears. When she saw me, she forced a smile. “Mommy!” I gently put the device on her. “Why aren’t you wearing it, sweetheart? Don’t you want to hear Mommy’s voice?” Evelina bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m afraid he’ll stomp on this new one, too.” It was clear that yesterday’s events had left her with an indelible scar. If I didn’t handle this properly, she’d be reminded of yesterday every time she wore her cochlear implant. I managed a small smile and gave her cheek a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. Today, Mommy’s going to school with you to make sure you’re okay.” After breakfast, I drove her to the kindergarten. As we entered, I noticed a few parents already gathered at the door. Ms. Lytton’s face darkened when she saw me. She came right over. “Isabel, Sara is here too. “I suggest you show some courtesy and apologize.” I brushed past her, holding my daughter close, and walked into the small crowd. I spotted Sara right away. Despite it being early autumn, she was already wrapped in a fur coat, with flashy gold jewelry hanging around her neck and wrists. She was basking in the attention of the other parents, her face beaming with pride. “Sara, your skin looks so flawless. How do you do it?” “Oh, that bracelet on your wrist must have cost quite a bit!” I walked up to them, cutting into the conversation with a cold tone. “So, you’re Murray’s mother, Sara Thomson? “Where’s your son? Are you planning to explain what he did to my daughter yesterday?” My words brought an instant chill to the atmosphere. The other women, who had been chatting away, turned their attention to me. To keep things professional, I was dressed in a tailored suit, and on my wrist was a simple watch with a Peppa Pig charm that Evelina loved. They looked me over from head to toe and finally gave me a disdainful smile. Sara crossed her arms and shot me a smug glance. “Oh, you actually had the nerve to come here?” I raised an eyebrow. “Your son was in the wrong. Why wouldn’t I come?” She laughed, waving me off dismissively, and then pointed at my daughter. “She’s just a disabled kid. My son bullied her, so what?”

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Clara, my little angel, clung to life by a thread. Her delicate fingers wrapped around two lollipops as she softly called, “Daddy, Daddy…” Heart racing, I dialed Sean. His voice cut through the line, irritated. “I told you not to call me at work.” “But Clara—” The call dropped. I tried again, only to find he’d blocked me. With her last whisper, Clara asked, “Mommy, does Daddy not care about me?” Her tiny hand relaxed, and the lollipops fell, echoing in the silence. My heart shattered into a million pieces. Later, I learned that on that very day, Sean had been with his lover. And it was that lover who killed my daughter! Rage consumed me. I would not let those who took my daughter from me go unpunished. They would pay for what they had done! … Rushing into the hospital, I was met with the doctor’s grim face. He gently explained they’d exhausted every option, but Clara’s time was running out. Desperate, I pleaded for them to try something, anything, but the finality in his eyes told me we’d reached the end of the road. Dragging my feet, I walked to Clara’s side. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and called out, “Mommy.” She was only four years old, delicate like a budding flower. But this… this was our final moment together. My heart ached as though it was being torn apart, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. “Clara…” I could barely speak through my sobs. “Don’t cry, Mommy. Here, have a lollipop.” She struggled to lift her tiny hand. She was holding a lollipop in one hand. In her other hand, she had another lollipop. “I want to give one to you and one to Daddy. Where’s Daddy?” In a rush, I pulled out my phone. “I’ll call your daddy right now.” I dialed Sean, but he didn’t answer. My anxiety grew with each passing second. I kept calling, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally picked up. Before I could say anything, he barked, “Didn’t I tell you not to bother me when I’m at work?” Yes, Sean had told me not to call him during this period. He was competing for a department manager position, a promotion that would come with a hefty pay raise. He had said that calling him at work could jeopardize his chances. But something this serious had happened to our daughter, and I felt he needed to know. I said, “No, Clara, she…” He cut me off, his tone harsh. “You always use Clara as an excuse! Can’t you even take care of a four-year-old? I’m busy. Don’t bother me!” “Clara is in the hospital…” Before I could finish, he hung up. I called again, only to realize he had blocked me. “Mommy,” Clara asked, “does Daddy not want me anymore?” “No, no,” I quickly shook my head, trying to reassure her. “Daddy loves you the most. He’s just at work, but he’ll be here soon…” Clara stared at the door, her voice growing weaker as she continued calling, “Daddy, Daddy…” I couldn’t bear to see her like this. Desperate, I called Sean’s colleague, Beckett Palmer, and asked him to help me find Sean. Sean called back shortly after. “Sophie, are you serious? You’re unbelievable! You called my rival at work? Are you trying to ruin me?” I had forgotten he was competing for the promotion against Beckett, the same Beckett who had once shared meals at our home. In my panic, I blurted out, “Clara is running out of time. You need to come to the hospital now…” “Sophie!” he shouted furiously, “How dare you curse our daughter! Take care of her, and if anything happens to Clara, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” I yelled back, “If you actually care about her, then come to the hospital now!” He hung up without listening to another word. I was about to call again when Clara’s soft voice interrupted me, “Mommy…” I immediately looked down at her. She gathered all the strength she had left and whispered, “The lollipops… I don’t want to give them to Daddy anymore. They’re both for you…” It was as if a knife had pierced my heart. I couldn’t imagine how hurt Clara must have felt to say something like that. The light in her eyes faded, and her hand went limp. The two lollipops fell to the floor. “Clara!” I screamed in anguish, but she never opened her eyes again. I held her as her body grew cold, sobbing uncontrollably. A nurse, unable to hold back her own tears, said, “She was such a good girl. She wouldn’t let go of the lollipops. She kept saying they were for you and her dad.” My entire body shook as I cried. I knew my Clara was a good girl. Whenever she got snacks at preschool, she would always save them for us. And she always brought two of everything. One for me and one for Sean. She never played favorites. But now, my precious daughter was gone. My world had collapsed.

I was overwhelmed with grief. I cried for so long that I became completely drained. Holding Clara’s cold body, it suddenly hit me that I needed to take care of her funeral. I wanted her to find peace as soon as possible. But Sean’s phone was still unreachable. Once again, I called Beckett. At this point, I didn’t care if he was Sean’s rival. After all, his was the only number I had. As expected, Sean called back, furious. “Sophie! Are you done? You’ve ruined everything for me! I missed the promotion because of you. Do you even want to keep this marriage? Let me tell you…” I shouted back, “Sean! If you don’t come back to arrange Clara’s funeral, we’re getting divorced tomorrow!” I screamed, and he cursed. I didn’t catch the rest of his words. But he definitely heard the word “divorce.” He roared, “Fine, divorce it is!” Then I heard a woman’s voice on his end, saying, “Sean, don’t be hasty…” He immediately hung up. I stared blankly at the phone. I knew that voice all too well. It was Rhoda Hilton, Sean’s first love. I couldn’t fathom how they were together. Sean’s department was full of men. There were no women in his office. Rhoda didn’t work for his company either. My instincts told me something was very wrong between them. I sat there, dazed, and pulled out my phone to scroll through Twitter. On the day Clara fell ill, Rhoda posted a video. In the video, a cat was being held by the scruff of its neck, meowing pitifully. Rhoda pointed at the cat, scolding it, “Baloo, you’ve been so naughty today! Running around the streets like that, you could’ve died. If you do it again, I swear I’ll kill you. Do you hear me?” The hand holding the cat wasn’t Rhoda’s. It was someone else’s. Even though that person’s face wasn’t shown, I recognized Sean’s wedding ring on the hand. I froze, thinking, “But he said he was at work.” Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t know him at all. I didn’t know how many more lies Sean had told me. I checked the time when Rhoda posted that video. It was after Clara had fallen ill. That meant while Clara was in the hospital bed, desperately hoping her father would come to see her, Sean was helping his mistress find her cat! Yet he had lied to me, saying he was working overtime, even turning off his phone! He didn’t know that Rhoda and I were Twitter friends, and he never imagined his whereabouts would be exposed! Over the past few days, Rhoda had posted many videos, mostly about searching for or feeding the cat. Sean’s face never appeared in the footage. But whether on purpose or by accident, Rhoda always managed to capture a hand or a foot of his. Her captions hinted that they were a sweet little family. “Baloo ran onto the road again. It was so dangerous! I’m so scared one day he’ll get hit by a car. Good thing his daddy was there, or I never would’ve caught him.” “Baloo had so much fun playing with his daddy. I was the photographer.” “Baloo is lying at his daddy’s feet, but he’s staring at me.” “Baloo seems to like having both his mommy and daddy around.” The more I scrolled, the angrier I became. I thought, “Sean, while our daughter was on her deathbed, you abandoned her to play house with a cat? So you’re their little family now, huh? You’re not worthy of being called a father!” Staring at the wedding ring on Sean’s finger in those videos, fury surged through me. I had no idea how long they had been together. But judging from the videos, it was clear they’d been inseparable these past few days. While Clara was fighting for her life, while she was calling out for her father, Sean was lying to me about working late, all while helping his lover with her cat! I thought about the way Clara had longed for her father in her final moments, and my heart ached. I decided not to tell Sean about Clara’s funeral. He didn’t deserve to be there. I felt he didn’t deserve to be Clara’s father at all! I cremated Clara’s body alone. I bought her a small plot at the cemetery, right next to my mother’s grave. I buried her ashes there, along with a small headstone. The headstone read: [I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I failed to protect you. Sophie] I wept as I prayed for my mother to take care of Clara in the afterlife. Then, through my tears, I said goodbye to them both. Shortly after leaving the cemetery, I received a call from Clara’s kindergarten teacher, Shelia Mitchell. “Mrs. Warren, is Clara feeling better? Will she be coming back to school soon?” In grief, I replied, “Clara has passed away. She won’t be returning to kindergarten.” “What?” Shelia stammered, shocked. “How could that be? She only had a cold!” It had been Shelia who brought Clara to the hospital, and she had been the one to call me about Clara’s illness. She said Clara had complained of a headache and had vomited, likely just the flu. I shook my head. “It wasn’t the flu. She had a head injury…” “A head injury? But she never fell at school.” “She told me it happened outside of school.”

Clara had told me that her birthday was coming up, and her father had taken her out to buy a gift. While they were out, she had accidentally fallen. I hadn’t realized her fall was that serious. I called Sean to find out what exactly had happened. But he wouldn’t answer the phone. Clara said her father hadn’t noticed when she fell. I realized that even if I asked Sean, he might not know what had really happened. Shelia was heartbroken as well. Through her tears, she said, “I thought Clara just had a cold. I never imagined this would happen. Mrs. Warren, don’t be too sad. You need to take care of yourself. Clara wouldn’t want you to suffer so much.” She comforted me for a while, then suddenly said, “By the way, the afternoon Mr. Warren picked up Clara, it was actually a woman who dropped her off. Clara called her Ms. Hilton.” My heart skipped a beat. I quickly found a picture of Rhoda and sent it to Shelia. “Was it her?” “Yes, that’s her,” Shelia confirmed. “Did they pick Clara up together?” I asked. “I only saw Mr. Warren pick her up. But when she was dropped off, it was that woman. Mr. Warren wasn’t there.” Confusion swirled inside me. After thanking Shelia, I decided I needed to investigate this matter further. Just then, the cemetery administrator called me again, asking why I hadn’t properly buried the urn but had left it lying on the path. I rushed over and saw Clara’s urn discarded in front of my mother’s grave. Her headstone was gone. The grave I had dug was filled back in. I couldn’t understand who could be so cruel, not even allowing my child to rest in peace. I went to the administrator to check the surveillance footage. After watching the video, I was furious. The footage showed that not long after I left, Rhoda had arrived at the cemetery. She was holding a cardboard box. When she saw my child’s headstone, she cursed, “Who put this here? Are they blind?” She noticed my name on the headstone and spat out, “This headstone was placed by Sophie? Did her stupid cat die too? What right does she have to bury it here?” Rhoda then dug up Clara’s headstone and hid it behind my mother’s grave. That was when Sean arrived. Rhoda pointed at Clara’s grave and said, “I don’t know who took this spot.” Sean said, “Let’s find another one.” “No way. I want Baloo buried next to my father. He should keep my dad company.” Only then did I realize that Rhoda’s father was buried in the neighboring plot. Sean said, “But someone’s already taken this spot.” Rhoda pouted. “There’s not even a headstone here. Who knows if it’s a cat or a dog? Let’s dig up the ashes and throw them away.” Under Rhoda’s coaxing, Sean actually dug up Clara’s urn and tossed it aside. Then, they placed their cardboard box in the grave. Rhoda said, “Let me take one last look at my darling.” She opened the box, and I saw that inside was a dead cat. She murmured, “Baloo, this is the resting place we’ve chosen for you. Rest in peace. We’ll love you forever. Be sure to keep Grandpa company down there.” Sean meticulously fixed up the grave, making it look beautiful, and then left with Rhoda. I returned to the grave and angrily flung the cardboard box far away. But I didn’t bury Clara’s ashes again. Instead, I took them home with me. I had originally intended to let my child rest peacefully. I had planned to wait until Sean found out what had happened, bring him here, and make him repent to Clara. Now, I wasn’t going to let Rhoda and Sean off so easily. I would seek justice for Clara! When I got home, I checked Rhoda’s Twitter. She had posted a picture of herself arm-in-arm with another person. The caption read: [Baloo is gone. But during my darkest moments, I’m so glad I have you by my side.] Sean’s face was fully visible in the photo. He gazed at Rhoda tenderly, smiling dotingly. I smirked coldly. “Laugh all you want, Sean. You won’t be smiling for much longer!” Two days later, Sean called me and said, “Tomorrow’s Clara’s birthday. We’ve got a few guests coming over, so make sure everything’s ready.” He seemed to have completely forgotten about our fight over the divorce. I didn’t bring it up either and replied, “Alright.” The next day, Sean came home. The funny thing was, he even had Rhoda on his arm. The house was packed with guests. He hadn’t expected me to go all out with the arrangements. In front of me stood a large display board covered with Clara’s toys. At the center was Clara’s favorite doll pillow, flanked by two lollipops. Sean chatted with the guests for a long while before he realized someone was missing. He looked at me and asked, “Where’s Clara? She’s the birthday girl. She can’t hide. Go get her to greet the guests.” This was the moment I had been waiting for. I moved the display board aside and pulled down the white veil on the wall. “Clara is right here!” Sean froze as he took in the sight of the living room, now arranged like a funeral, and the massive black-and-white portrait of Clara.

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My husband gave away our newborn son to repay a war buddy who once saved his life. He lied to me, saying our child had died. Years later, I accidentally learned our son was alive. When I confronted my husband, he simply said, “I owed him this.” I tried to find our child, but my husband blocked every attempt. Consumed by grief and regret over losing my son, I eventually died of a broken heart. Incredibly, I woke up again. Back on the day I gave birth. “You like giving away children? Then you can die childless!” ***** A sharp pain jolted me awake. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and I cried out. I tried to move, but my swollen belly pinned me down. “What’s wrong? Is it time?” a voice asked urgently. The door swung open as a man strode in, carrying two lunch boxes in one hand. He was tall and muscular, with striking features, sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes. His military uniform exuded an air of authority. Every inch of him radiated the vigor of youth. This was my husband, Tyler Davenport. But how had he become so young? Confused, I stared at Tyler, unable to look away. Before I could make sense of it, he was at my bedside, his face etched with worry and urgency. In one swift motion, he scooped me up from the bed. The fresh scent of soap filled my nostrils as his concerned voice, tinged with severity, reached my ears. “Your water broke and you didn’t call anyone? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve risked both your lives!” As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught the calendar on the wall. My heart raced as my fingers unconsciously gripped the rough fabric. I had been reborn, back to the day I gave birth. In my past life, I had labored for over two hours to bring this child into the world. Tyler immediately gave the baby to his war buddy. He lied to me, saying our child was too weak and didn’t survive. I believed him, blaming myself for being unable to keep our baby alive. Later, I discovered the truth by chance, but when I tried to get my child back, Tyler blocked me at every turn. When I confronted him, his face was cold, his words matter-of-fact. “George lost his chance to be a father while saving my life. I owe him this child. “He’ll never have another kid, but we can have plenty more. Gwen, forget about that baby. It’s better for everyone if we just pretend it didn’t make it.” “It’s better for everyone?” I scoffed inwardly. “It’s better for you!” That was my child, carried for nine months and born through my pain. It was not some gift to repay his kindness! I had a huge fight with Tyler and set out to find my baby. But Tyler’s influence grew. His power became almost limitless. He always managed to cut off any leads I found. My efforts were in vain. Living with the pain and regret of losing my child, I died of a broken heart before I even hit 45. Then, by some miracle, I got a second chance at life. This time, I swore, no one would take my baby from me! The joy of rebirth overwhelmed me. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. No, I couldn’t let Tyler be the only one with me when I gave birth. I was due any day now. “Wait,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the pain. “Send a telegram to my family. Ask my mother to come take care of me. This is my first child. I’m terrified.” I tilted my head back, catching only the sharp line of Tyler’s jaw. He chuckled softly, looking down at me. “It’s harvest season. Your mother probably can’t spare the time. Don’t worry, I’m your husband. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.” As he spoke, he gathered the supplies for the delivery. My heart sank. Next door, Samantha Moore heard the commotion. She opened her door and called out, “Is Gwen in labor? Do you need any help?” Samantha was the partner of a high-ranking government official. She was known for her warmth and fairness. We got along well. With her around, it would be harder for Tyler to try anything suspicious. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, “Samantha, could you please come with me to the hospital? It’s my first time having a baby, and I’m so nervous my heart’s about to jump out of my chest.”

Samantha set down the half-finished shoe insole and flashed a warm smile. “Of course! I’ll go with you. You two are first-time parents, so you’re bound to be all over the place. I can help make sure things go smoothly.” Her quick agreement made my anxiety ease a bit. But just as I started to relax, Tyler’s cool voice came from above. He politely declined Samantha’s offer with well-reasoned arguments. “Samantha, Ryan is still little. He needs you around. What would he do if you went to the hospital? Besides, it’s not good for kids to spend too much time in a place with so many people coming and going.” Ryan was Samantha’s youngest, just two years old and full of energy. Tyler’s words struck a chord with her. As a mother, her children always came first. Samantha began to waver. Sensing this, Tyler pressed his advantage, determined to put her mind at ease. He smiled, “I’ve already checked out the hospital. I know the place inside and out. Plus, I’m a grown man – I can take care of my wife and kid. Don’t worry about a thing, Samantha.” Samantha nodded repeatedly, clearly convinced. My heart, which had been half-settled, now raced with renewed anxiety. Spurred by a wave of pain, I reached for Samantha’s hand, my voice pleading. “Samantha, I’m in so much pain and I’m scared. Could you please come with me to the hospital?” I repeatedly expressed my fears. It was infuriating that no one knew about Tyler’s plan, and even if I said it now, no one would believe me. After all, how could a normal person secretly give away his child without telling his wife? In my past life, I’d been brainwashed into thinking the kid was dead. If I hadn’t stumbled across that money transfer, I’d never have known how “selfless” and “noble” my husband was, giving away his own child. I was in so much pain that I was sweating profusely, my lips pale. I looked pitiful. Samantha’s face showed sympathy, and she was about to agree. “Alright, I guess I could…” At that moment, a child’s loud cry rang out from Samantha’s house. A boy, about seven or eight years old, ran out calling for help. “Mom! The baby pooped all over himself and the bed. It stinks!” Samantha’s face fell, her priorities instantly shifting. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry. There’s always something going on at home. I can’t get away right now, but I promise I’ll visit you at the hospital after you give birth. With Tyler by your side, I’m not worried about you at all.” If only she knew that Tyler was exactly why I was worried! The baby’s cries grew louder. Samantha hurried back inside to comfort the child. Tyler carefully adjusted his hold on me, still wearing that “I’ve got everything under control” expression. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” he said. The pain was too much for me to speak. I just rolled my eyes at him from the safety of his arms. Then, wrapping my arms around his neck, I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “Ouch…” Tyler hissed through his teeth. I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing him in pain. Why should I be the only one suffering? This baby was half his doing, after all. My small act of revenge did little to lift the heaviness in my heart. A sense of helpless dread was threatening to overwhelm me, knowing the dangers that lay ahead but being powerless to avoid them. But I couldn’t just accept my fate. Surely, I wasn’t given this second chance just to repeat the mistakes of my past life! I released Tyler’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, gathering my strength. With Samantha out of the picture, the hospital was my last hope. We made our way down the stairs and through the residential complex. A car was already waiting for us at the main gate. Tyler carried me steadily, his grip never faltering. People stared as we passed, their eyes a mix of envy and admiration. “Mr. Davenport is so capable and thoughtful,” I overheard someone say. “I heard he took two weeks off work to take care of Gwen. Why can’t my husband be more like him?” “Humph, why does Gwen get such special treatment?” someone chimed in. “I remember when I went into labor, I was still out there husking corn. I gave birth right then and there. And when I went home, I had to carry the baby and half a basket of corn on my back!” In my past life, I thought they were just jealous, and I felt so lucky. Now, their words drip with irony. Tyler, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband, was planning to steal my baby out of some twisted sense of obligation. When I confronted him, he had the nerve to suggest I should have more children. In my previous life, I trusted Tyler completely. I never realized how dangerous it was to give birth without family by my side. This time around, I was still alone and helpless. The only difference was that now I knew what he was planning.

In the car, Tyler held me close, whispering words of comfort while repeatedly urging the driver to go faster. His face was a mask of concern as if he’d gladly take my place if he could. The perfect picture of a devoted husband. I closed my eyes to rest with a faint, sardonic smile. “Tyler,” I wondered, “is all this fuss really about my safety and the baby’s? Or are you just worried that if something goes wrong with the child, you won’t be able to repay your war buddy’s life-saving favor? Every day this baby isn’t handed over is another day of torment for your conscience, isn’t it?” The rest of the journey passed in silence. At the hospital, I was rushed into the delivery room. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made my eyes ache. Drawing on my experience from a past life, I focused on controlling my breathing and pushing rhythm. I lost track of time as the pain washed over me. Suddenly, I felt a release, as if something had slipped away from my body. “Waaah!” The baby’s clear cry rang out once, then abruptly stopped. “Why isn’t my baby crying?” I thought and struggled to sit up, catching only a glimpse of a nurse hurrying away. “My baby! Where are you taking my child?” I cried out. I tried to follow, but the doctor firmly held me down on the delivery bed. His mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. They held a familiar look of pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn. For your own health, you shouldn’t experience extreme emotions right after giving birth. It’s best to let your husband handle the arrangements for the child.” My heart froze and burned with anger. It was clear now – Tyler had bought off the doctor and nurses before I even went into labor. No matter what condition I or the baby were in after birth, they would all stick to the same story. The baby didn’t make it. In my previous life, I’d passed out from exhaustion and believed every word from Tyler and the medical staff. But now, living through this a second time, I saw right through Tyler’s plan. I didn’t believe a single word they said. “Hang on, my little one,” I thought to myself. “Mommy will find you. I promise.” With fury in my eyes, I slapped the doctor’s hand away and demanded, “I heard my baby cry! Where have you taken my child?” The doctor, unfazed by the blow, shook his head with a resigned look. “Several babies were born around the same time as yours. It’s easy to get confused. You’re still young. Once you’ve recovered, you can have more children.” The words and tone were all too familiar. The doctor’s face kept shifting before my eyes. One moment, I was back in military housing, surrounded by gossiping wives. “Gwen, dear, you can always have another baby. But if you lose your marriage, you lose everything.” “Don’t be angry with Mr. Davenport. Giving up the baby hurts him too. That man saved his life, which was a debt that outweighs everything. How can he be at peace if he doesn’t repay it?” Then, it was Tyler’s impatient face. “Gwen, how long are you going to keep this up? George can’t have children anymore because he saved me. I owe him. “It’s only right that I give him a child to care for him in his old age.” I clenched my fists, crumpling the sheets beneath me. It seemed like Tyler was the only person in the world who had it tough. Tyler was tortured by guilt over the debt he owed George for saving his life. That was why he felt compelled to give away his own son to ease his conscience. He was so conflicted, so anguished. And I, as Tyler’s wife, was apparently committing a grave sin. Instead of joyfully handing our child over to George without a second thought, I kept causing trouble, constantly demanding we find and bring our baby home. I was turning our household upside down, driving Tyler to his wit’s end. How utterly unforgivable of me! Those women were quick to advise me to give up on the child. Of course, it was easy for them to preach generosity. It wasn’t their baby at stake. Tyler, that shameless man, had the audacity to unzip his pants and offer to “bless” me with another child. He made it sound so simple. He wouldn’t be the one enduring nine months of pregnancy, so naturally, he could use our baby to repay his debt. All to clear his conscience and earn a reputation for gratitude. How convenient for him. But no one had asked if I was willing. All the resentment, heartache, and frustration from my past and present lives erupted at once. Suddenly, I felt filled with strength. That was my child. No one could take it away! I grabbed the doctor’s collar, using him for support as I sat up. My scream was hoarse with rage. “What gives you the right to say my baby is dead? I want proof! If you’ve got nothing to hide, why won’t you let me see my child?” The doctor’s face turned red as the collar tightened around his neck. A nearby nurse rushed over to pry my fingers loose. The doctor cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. “Ahem! The patient is becoming hysterical. We need a sedative, stat!” He had just managed to break free from the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he croaked out orders to the nurse. The nurse swiftly handed him a syringe and pushed me back down onto the bed. The doctor pressed the plunger, the sharp needle glinting as it moved towards me.

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On the day I married Jasper Hawthorne, my younger sister, Fiona Winslow, died. After her death, Jasper, who had twice rejected her love, suddenly realized he had been in love with her all along. He turned all his anger on me, calling me the one who drove her to her death, saying I deserved nothing but misery for the rest of my life. Even my mother hated me. She screamed at me again and again, “Elara, why wasn’t it you who died?” But later, when I was really dying, they begged me to hold on and live.

My best friend, Ava Gibson, was a mistress dissuasion expert. I lent her money to open a studio, but her first business deal was to discourage me from continuing with my husband. “Scarlett Walker, what’s the point of a loveless marriage? You’ve already wasted five years of Samuel Wright’s time. Do you still want to pester him and make him feel disgusted by you for the rest of his life?” she said. I was so amused by her nonsense that I asked the security guard to kick her out of my office. However, she brought the so-called “Anti-Mistress Alliance” to protest me while live streaming. “The one who is not loved is the mistress! Defend freedom of love!” They shouted slogans and smashed my company. I watched them calmly until they were tired of messing around. Then, I took out the IOU and declared to Ava, “The one million dollars you borrowed from me has been overdue for half a year. If you don’t pay it back, I will sue you. “In addition, the scientific research equipment you just smashed is worth 37 million dollars. Please compensate for the original price. “Otherwise, see you in court!” ***** During lunch break, Ava came to my company. “Scarlett, I have something to discuss with you about my work.” She sat upright with a serious expression. I understood what she came here for and directly picked up the phone. “How much money do you need this time?” Ava majored in psychology. Since it was hard to find a job after graduation, she decided to start her own business. I was not short of money but understood the hardships of starting a business. Whenever she asked for my help, I would give her money. After all, she was my only friend. Ava flushed awkwardly. “No, I’m not asking you to borrow me money.” I was slightly startled and asked, “Then, what do you want?” My work and hers had nothing in common. Apart from borrowing money, I really wondered what other work-related matters she wanted to discuss with me. Taking a deep breath, she finally made up her mind and said, “Scarlett, you know I’m a mistress dissuading expert. I received a commission a few days ago, which is… To persuade you to stop interrupting others’ relationships.” I was stunned and couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I got married to Samuel as soon as we graduated from college, and both our parents and friends knew each other very well. I was pretty sure I was not his mistress. How could she possibly receive the commission against me? “Wait, what? Samuel and I have been married for three years. How could I end up becoming his mistress?” I said. Ava stared at me and looked more and more stern. “Scarlett, although you are Samuel’s legal wife, it is now obvious that he has had an affair. Why don’t you give up confining him to you?” I looked at her in disbelief. “So, you are entrusted by Samuel’s mistress to persuade me, the original wife, to divorce him?” As a mistress dissuasion expert, Ava should convince those women who were ruining other’s families to quit, but she actually persuaded me, Samuel’s legal wife, to give my husband to his mistress. This was the first time I questioned Ava’s decency. Ava looked calm and nodded. Then, she said righteously, “Scarlett, don’t get me wrong. If it happened to someone else, I wouldn’t have accepted this mission. But you’re my friend, I can’t let you get stuck in this.” I was so confused that I reached for my phone. “Let me ask Samuel first.” I didn’t believe that Samuel, that dull but righteous guy, would cheat on his wife. He worked in my research institute, and the only place he went after work was our home. I really couldn’t believe he cheated on me. However, Ava stopped me and said, “Scarlett, will a man admit to cheating on you? What’s the point of asking him?” I frowned. “What do you mean?” “Divorce him!” Ava said firmly, “What else can you say to a bastard like this!” I looked at her anxious face and asked after a moment of silence, “Tell me who his mistress is.” Ava decisively refused. “No, I have to keep it confidential for my client.” I laughed at her angrily. “You neither told me who his mistress was, nor let me confirm it with Samuel. ​The only thing you want me to do is to divorce him without any virtual evidence. How can I believe you?” Ava nodded as a matter of course. “But I am your only friend. I won’t hurt you.” I looked at her, and my heart sank. In the past, whenever Ava brought up that she was my only friend as an excuse, I would always agree to her request unconditionally. But this was not a reason for her to force me to divorce. After a moment, I shook my head. “No, I can’t do it.” Ava stared at me with a hint of threat. “Scarlett, I have many ways to make you divorce voluntarily without any property divided, but I don’t want to use those against you, do you understand?” I know Ava’s methods. She would find a man to seduce those mistresses and get some sensitive pictures or videos as evidence to force them to cut off with those married men. I really didn’t expect that she would plot against me with those means.

I looked at my old friend and felt extremely disappointed. If she came here only to inform me that Samuel cheated on me, I would believe she did that out of kindness. But as she forced me to divorce without allowing me to verify the facts and even threatened me with her dirty means, I had to doubt her real intentions. I couldn’t help but recall that when Samuel and I began to date, Ava always complained about him. She believed that Samuel buying me breakfast was his gaslighting skill. When Samuel bought me expensive gifts, she said he was using money to seduce me while calling me a gold digger with his pals. Even when Samuel proposed to me, she pointed out countless mistakes on the spot. I recalled in silence and became more and more severe. Seeing me in silence, Ava seemed confident in succeeding. She stood up and grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go. I can just go home with you to get the documents, and you call Samuel to divorce.” I came to my senses and shook off her hand. “No, I can’t divorce him just based on your one-sided words.” She looked at me in surprise, never expecting me to reject her again. “Scarlett! I’m doing this for your own good!” Her voice suddenly rose. “Samuel has cheated on you and doesn’t love you anymore! Why are you still clinging to him?” Her face distorted like the fierce beast that I had ever seen. She looked so strange to me now. Compared to Ava, who lost her temper, I couldn’t help but feel partial to my husband who said “I love you” dozens of times this morning. “You must listen to me! Divorce Samuel now!” Ava yelled and grabbed me again. I had been spending all year in the laboratory and couldn’t compete with Ava in terms of strength. I couldn’t get rid of her grip. However, I just asked for my assistant, Charlie Evans. Charlie rushed into my office and pulled Ava away. “Scarlett! You actually let him touch me?” Ava looked insane and stared at me like a devil. I rubbed my wrist that was hurt by her grip and said seriously, “I don’t need you to make decisions about my family affairs. I have other things to do at the company. Goodbye” After saying that, I gestured to Charlie to take her away. She stared at me angrily and sneered. “Okay, Scarlett, don’t blame me if anything happens to you!” I thought she was just threatening. After all, we had been friends for so many years, and even if she was mad at me for a now, it was unlikely for her to really turn against me. It turned out that I overestimated my friendship with her. I also underestimated her bottom line. Taking a sip of water, Charlie brought me bad news when I was thinking about how to question Samuel. “Ms. Walker! Ms. Gibson came back with some…” Charlie looked embarrassed and hesitated to continue. I frowned. “What did she bring here?” “They held up a banner and called themselves…” Charlie said, “Anti-mistress alliance.” I spat out a mouthful of water on the table and was extremely stunned. “They were downstairs, holding banners and shouting with loud speakers in a live stream…” Charlie reported to me, placing an iPad in front of me. In the live stream, Ava was in the center of the crowd, followed by a bunch of burly men. They held up a banner of the Anti-Mistress Alliance and even got my company’s logo on the camera. “The president of the Walker Pharmaceutical Company, Scarlett, took a girl’s boyfriend!” she shouted. In the camera, Ava looked indignant and sad, but he spoke coherently, and each word of her words hit the nail. “I am a mistress dissuading expert and also a good friend of Scarlett. However, I learned from one of my clients that she seduced her boyfriend! “Although I am her best friend, I absolutely cannot tolerate such immoral behavior. This is the basic quality of a psychiatrist! “Just now, I tried to persuade Scarlett to leave that man… But she asked her secretary to throw me out and refused to listen to me.” The live stream turned exuberant with more than ten thousand viewers, and the number of audience was still rising. Netizen A: [Is it the city’s signature enterprise, the Walker Pharmaceutical Company?] Netizen B: [Isn’t this company devoted to charity? Why do they have a bitch boss?] Netizen C: [I told you a woman could never be a manager. She must sleep with her bosses to gain her position.] Netizen D: [Shameless mistress! Boycott the Walker Pharmaceutical Company!] Looking at the surging comments, I felt annoyed. Ava was really my good friend. She knew very well how to hurt me. My company was going public soon, so we cannot afford any negative news. If the listing failed because of this shit, it would be more severe for me to make it up!

In the live stream, Ava suddenly wiped the corners of his eyes and changed the subject. “Scarlett, I know you still love him, but please think about those people you hurt. You broke up their happiness. It’s really not cool to do this. Everyone makes mistakes. As long as you correct them in time, I believe everyone will forgive you.” She said that with tears, looking like a saint who was thinking about me wholeheartedly and trying to persuade me to turn back to the right path. I couldn’t help but sneer as I listened to her nonsense. She was smart that she told the netizens she was here to persuade a man’s legal wife to divorce her husband. Hearing her words, anyone would be convinced that I was the mistress. Moreover, she kept saying that she exposed this matter under her real name, so why didn’t she mention her own name at all? Netizen A: [stop trying. She is a bitch, and it’s useless to make her regretful only by talking!] Netizen B: [Just go in and smash her company.] Netizen C: [That’s right! Destroy her company so that she will know the consequences of ruining people’s relationships!] Countless online judges in the comments were supporting her. Ava’s eyes lit up, and she said immediately, “Okay! The anti-mistress alliance will enforce justice today!” After saying that, she waved at those robust men and rampaged into my company. “Ms. Walker, what should we do?” Charlie was a young girl who had just graduated. She had never seen such a mess and was a little panicked. I responded calmly, “Send a message in the company group and inform everyone to leave through the safe passage. Every employee gets paid leave today. Tell them to run away as far as possible in case they get hurt.” “Also, don’t let any of them post anything online. I will handle this,” I added. She immediately nodded and carried out my order. I continued staring at the live stream. The strong men Ava brought with her were really good at looting and smashing things. They kicked open the gate and swarmed into my company like gangs. They smashed everything they saw, and even the plant next to the elevator was also ruined. Fortunately, they didn’t see the employees. Netizen A: [Why isn’t anyone here working? The Walker Pharmaceutical Company must be a briefcase company!] Netizen B: [Just destroy everything here! Make that bitch lose her job!] Netizen C: [Smash those expensive equipment! No, stop kicking that plant! Choose their computers!] Perhaps encouraged by the comments, those people went crazy and smashed several computers at workstations. They even approached the laboratory. Ava said to the camera, “I know this is the safest place in the entire company. Scarlett must be hiding here!” She insisted on saying that even though she knew exactly I was in my office. So, she was here to destroy my lab. Netizen A: [Open that door and kill that bitch!] Netizen B: [That’s what you get as a mistress, Scarlett!] Netizen C: [Kill that bitch! Kill that bitch!] The netizens were celebrating, and the number of viewers had soared to over a hundred thousand. I watched them violently break into the laboratory and smash those expensive equipment. Fortunately, the laboratory moved to a new location the day before yesterday, and there were only two instruments that had not been moved away in time; plus, there was no data in them. I calculated the losses in my mind and estimated that it was enough for these thugs to be imprisoned, so I stood up and walked out of the office. “What are you doing? That’s a pharmaceutical laboratory! The equipment inside is worth tens of millions. Put that down!” I tried to stop them from committing the crime in a hurry. “Scarlett, you finally came out,” she said. Ava turned the camera towards me with a smug look on his face but pleaded to me humbly, “Don’t be mad at me, I’m doing this for your own good. Since I can’t stop you by myself, I can only call on the netizens to save you before you make bigger mistakes!” I looked at the messy laboratory and the burly men with bulging pockets with a frown and said, “You are maliciously damaging my property, and I suspect you are stealing something from my lab.” “Scarlett! Stop changing the topic!” Ava looked disappointed. “Don’t you understand that you are doing something immoral by interfering in other people’s relationships?” I stared at her and clarified, “You mean that I interfere in my legal husband’s relationship with another girl?”

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Three days from now, I was supposed to get engaged to my girlfriend. When I went to pick up the veil from the store, I saw a loving couple trying on wedding attire. I felt touched by their love until I realized, to my shock, that the bride-to-be was my girlfriend, and the man beside her was her ex. The sales assistant beamed at them and said, “You two are the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen.” They exchanged a smile, one that spoke of a world that only belonged to the two of them. Unable to contain myself, I interjected, “Your wedding must be a grand affair. Don’t forget to send me two invitations. I’ll be bringing my fiancée.” My girlfriend’s face went pale with panic. After picking up the veil, I passed by a bridal shop. Through the window, I saw a tender scene unfold inside. A bride-to-be stood before a mirror, her groom holding her hand tightly. Their gazes were locked onto each other. They seemed so intimately connected. Three days from now, I would be engaged to my girlfriend, Estella Quimby. I couldn’t help but compare Estella to the woman inside, and I still thought my girlfriend was more beautiful. I believed our love would be sweeter than theirs. I was already impatient to see Estella in a wedding gown. Perhaps I was anticipating too much because suddenly, I found myself imagining Estella as that bride in the shop. Then, I froze. As the image cleared, I realized that the bride was indeed Estella. The man beside her sent a chill through my heart. I recognized him—it was Marlon Faulkner, Estella’s ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t help but walk into the shop. The sales assistants were still chatting away, “You two are the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen.” “Oh, the groom is so generous, buying such an expensive wedding dress without a second thought.” “Indeed, it’s so costly! Such a waste to wear it only once.” Estella playfully tapped Marlon, but her eyes were filled with happiness. Marlon held her hand, his gaze tender yet firm. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime moment for us. I don’t want you to have any regrets. And one day, our daughter can wear this dress too, so she knows just how much her parents loved each other.” “I’m not giving you a daughter; I’m having a son.” “As long as it’s yours, I’ll love them either way.” The sales assistants sighed in admiration. Their sweet words were enough to make anyone envious. I stood there, watching my girlfriend plan a future with another man, a future that already included children. Estella had told me she didn’t want kids and even asked me to have a vasectomy before our engagement to prove my love for her. I knew Estella wasn’t deeply in love with me. But in this day and age, finding someone you like isn’t easy. I figured I shouldn’t dwell on who loved whom more. But now, this scene before me was like a knife to the heart. Forcing a smile, I stepped forward. “Your wedding is bound to be lively. Don’t forget to invite me.” It was only then that Estella noticed me, her smile freezing on her face. Marlon immediately pulled Estella closer, asking me sharply, “Who are you?” I threw the question back to Estella. “Why don’t you tell him who I am?” Everyone waited for her answer. Estella couldn’t bring herself to look at me. Finally, in a low voice, she said, “He’s just a colleague.” She didn’t even say I was a friend. A coldness spread through my chest. I had wanted to confront her, but when she gave that answer, I realized the reasons didn’t matter anymore. After all, my soon-to-be fiancée was pretending not to know me for the sake of another man. Suppressing the pain in my heart, I smiled and said, “Please make sure to send me two invitations. I’ll bring my fiancée.” Then, I turned and walked out. Estella didn’t come after me. Looking back, I saw Marlon whisper something in Estella’s ear, and she laughed. Without me, the uninvited guest, their happiness was restored. Marlon gently placed his hand on Estella’s waist. She didn’t mind and even helped straighten his collar. Their actions were so natural and intimate as if they were long accustomed to them. At that moment, I was nothing more than an outsider, watching this romance that had nothing to do with me from outside the window.

A few hours later, I received a notification on my phone about a charge. The message stated that two hundred and thirty thousand dollars had been spent, and the recipient was the bridal shop where I had caught Estella earlier. So, in the end, I paid for the wedding dress they tried on. I immediately dialed Estella’s number, my fingers trembling slightly with rage. But all I got was the cold sound of an automated message. She wasn’t picking up. I tried several more times, each with the same result. By the seventh call, I laughed in anger. “How could I forget?” I thought to myself. “Of course, I’ve probably been blocked by now.” This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. In the past, she would often disappear without a word. No matter how many times I called, she wouldn’t answer. In the end, I would get so anxious that I’d borrow someone else’s phone to call her, and she’d pick up right away. Later, when I asked her why she didn’t answer my calls and if she knew how worried I was, she dismissively said, “I just don’t want you checking up on me. If I block you, I can have fun without being bothered.” Now, I finally understood. To her, I was nothing more than an annoyance. That’s why she could so easily brush off my concern as interference. One after another, deduction notifications kept popping up on my phone. “She doesn’t need me,” I thought. “She just needs the limitless supplementary card I gave her. She must be having a great time.” “She’s probably having an even better time spending my money with her ex-boyfriend.” “I’ve basically become their ATM.” My phone buzzed again. I received a new notification about another charge. This time, she had dropped one hundred and twenty thousand dollars in one go at a bar. I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to that bar. The place was dimly lit, filled with a deafening mix of music and voices. When I finally spotted them, Estella was leaning drunkenly against Marlon, feeding him drinks from her glass. I couldn’t help but clench my fists, feeling the anger flare up inside me once more. Estella caught sight of me and immediately looked annoyed. “Ugh, here comes the killjoy.” Her voice was slurred with drunkenness, but I could hear every word clearly. I stood there, my body stiff with anger and humiliation, my breath growing heavy. Marlon, on the other hand, wore a smug expression, his eyes taunting me under the dim lights. I asked her, “Estella, don’t you have anything to say?” She took a casual sip of her drink and replied, “I’m just out with friends having a drink. Don’t you have friends? Can’t you see?” A group of people I didn’t know chimed in mockingly, “Yeah, man. Why so uptight? Come have a drink with us!” Estella always acted like a haughty little princess in front of me. She never spoke to me kindly. Even in front of a crowd, she’d always have to jab at me, never caring about my dignity. With those sycophantic friends around, she got even more brazen. “I wanted to tell you earlier today that Marlon’s getting married tomorrow. Tonight is his last night as a single man, and as his friend, of course, I want him to have a great time. Why are you being so petty? You caused a scene during the day, and now you’re here at night to drag me away. “How am I supposed to have any fun like this?” Others started criticizing me, too. “Yeah, man.” “It’s Marlon’s last night of freedom. You’re ruining the mood for everyone.” “Wow, what a control freak. Can’t even let his girlfriend have a good time?” Their accusations, mixed with the blaring music, drowned me. Estella watched coldly from the sidelines. Seeing things spiral further out of control, Marlon decided to play the good guy. “Alright, everyone, that’s enough. Let me say something. I’m sure he’s just worried, that’s all.” The crowd fell silent immediately. He pretended to be friendly and patted my shoulder. I recoiled in disgust, but he didn’t get angry. “Don’t worry. When Estella is with me, I’ll always take good care of her. You can go home and relax now.” As soon as he finished, all eyes turned to me as if they were all urging me to leave. I looked helplessly at Estella. But her expression was the same. My heart shattered, piece by piece. In the end, I gave up resisting, said nothing, and turned to leave. Behind me, their cheers erupted. “Woohoo! Let’s keep drinking, everyone!” “Let’s make this night unforgettable!”

Estella didn’t come home all night. It wasn’t until noon that she stumbled through the door. Clearly, she was still hungover. She barged in without a care, knocking over various items, but she didn’t seem to notice. She staggered her way through the house and finally collapsed onto the bed. I stood there, watching her as she fell into a deep sleep. A ridiculous thought flashed through my mind, “At least she still knows to come home.” But then, I saw a love bite on her neck. The swollen red mark told the story of Estella’s reckless night. It was unmistakably Marlon’s way of mocking me, a brazen insult. I had been the one who pursued Estella in the first place. Back in school, she and Marlon were a famous couple, and their breakup was the talk of the campus. I had fallen for her at first sight during my freshman year. When I heard they had broken up, I seized the chance and began pursuing Estella with relentless passion. At first, she was indifferent to me, but eventually, out of all her suitors, she accepted only my gifts. That gave me hope. I tried even harder, and finally, I won her heart. Estella told me she broke up with Marlon because he had cheated on her. She was heartbroken and had lost faith in love. So, she needed me to constantly prove my love for her. I did everything I could to show her how much I cared. But in the end, I realized that whenever Marlon beckoned, Estella would run back to him without hesitation. All my efforts had become a joke. Now, I could no longer deceive myself. I knew it was time to face the reality that this relationship was beyond saving. Estella hadn’t been asleep long before she woke up and started making noise again. When she saw the mess she’d left from the night before, she looked very displeased. “Where’s Dora? Why hasn’t she cleaned up all this trash?” I stopped her. “Estella, we need to talk.” She frowned and sidestepped me. She wore that all-too-familiar look of impatience. “I don’t have time to listen to your nonsense right now.” But I insisted. “Last night\.\.\.” She cut me off immediately. “There you go again about last night. Aren’t you tired of it? You want to know about the wedding dress? It was just a gift. Isn’t it normal to give a friend a gift when they’re getting married?” I thought, “Sure, giving a gift is normal, but a wedding dress? Giving a wedding dress to your ex-boyfriend is definitely not normal.” “As for the drinking, it was just a normal gathering among friends. There were a lot of people there. Stop overthinking it.” I thought, “Drinking with friends is normal, but the way you two were all over each other, and the way they kicked me out—none of that is normal.” I had given up, hoping for a reasonable explanation. Frustrated, I said, “If you hate me so much, then let’s just…” But Estella had already gathered her things and completely lost her patience. “Ugh, I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m not talking to you anymore. I’m going to Marlon’s wedding tonight. You don’t like him anyway, so there’s no need for you to come. “Just stay home and take some time to cool off.” With that, she headed straight for the door, not giving me another chance to speak. The door slammed shut in my face. The room suddenly fell silent. I stood there, waves of bitterness rising within me. Her indifference was unbearable. Compared to Marlon, she didn’t even want to spare me a glance. I thought, “She’s so eager to go to the wedding. But is Marlon really having a wedding tonight?” I started to suspect that this might just be a false rumor Marlon had spread to lure Estella in. And, of course, Estella would take the bait. She loved him, so of course, she would go. Just as I had guessed, a friend who went to Marlon’s wedding told me the event had been called off. “The bride ran away.” I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” “For real! I saw it with my own eyes. Marlon’s fiancée was Scarlett Ramirez, the daughter of the CEO of the Ramirez Group. Rumor has it she ran away for an old flame. But that guy’s already engaged too.” I hadn’t expected this at all. I knew Scarlett. We had even gone on a few dates arranged by our families. From what I remember, she was a very gentle girl. The Ramirez Group and our Haynes Group had business ties, so us being together would have made perfect sense. But back then, all I could think about was Estella, so I turned it down. I never imagined such a quiet girl would pull off a stunt like running away from her own wedding. I couldn’t help but wonder who that old flame was that had driven her to such extremes. I thought, “Sure enough, love makes people do things they never would.” That night, Estella didn’t come home. I wasn’t even surprised anymore. In my mind, I was already making excuses for her. I guessed she’d probably say, “My friend is going through a tough time. Isn’t it only right for me to be there for him?” I thought bitterly, “When she decided to be there for Marlon, did she think about me even for a second?” I laughed at myself. I didn’t know why. Even now, I was still trying to find excuses for her. I knew all of this was already meaningless.

The next day was Saturday. Estella’s mother, Marina Quimby, had Alzheimer’s, and her condition had been worsening recently. To spend more time with Marina, we’d agreed to have lunch together every Saturday. Even though I was upset with Estella, I couldn’t just ignore Marina. Before she fell ill, she had always treated me very kindly. I adjusted my mood and went to the nursing home anyway. I hadn’t expected to see Estella there. She glanced up at me, her face expressionless, as if she wasn’t planning to explain anything about yesterday, or even wanted me there at all. “I thought after all the drama you caused yesterday, you wouldn’t show up today.” “I’m here to see Mrs. Quimby.” Estella wasn’t having it. “Well, she doesn’t even recognize you anymore.” I didn’t quite understand what she meant until I heard a voice calling from inside, “Kylian, help me out.” Just as I was about to respond, a voice answered quicker than mine, “Of course, Mrs. Quimby.” In a moment, Marina was helped out of the room. The person supporting her was Marlon. I hadn’t expected Estella to bring him here. I stood there, frozen. Marina seemed delighted, holding Marlon’s hand and asking with concern. “Kylian, I saved some grapes for you—your favorite. I’ve been waiting for you to come and eat them. Have you been working hard lately? Thank you so much for visiting me even when you’re so busy.” Marina had mistaken Marlon for me, thinking he was the one who had always cared for her. It felt like a massive weight pressed down on my chest. I finally understood what Estella had meant earlier. She thought I was easily replaceable. And reality had proven her right. It felt like a hard slap across my face. I realized coming here was just a foolish attempt on my part. I knew if I stayed any longer, I’d only be making a fool of myself. I turned to leave. But Marina seemed to sense something. She shook off Marlon’s hand and suddenly began shouting, “Where is Kylian? Where is Kylian?” “Mrs. Quimby, I’m Kylian.” “Mom, Kylian is right here.” No matter how Estella and Marlon tried to calm her down, Marina only became more agitated. I stopped in my tracks and handed an apple to Marina. She took the apple, and slowly, she began to calm down. Marina looked up and studied me carefully as if trying to match my face to some image buried in her memories. She still didn’t recognize me, but there was an inexplicable kindness in her eyes. “Young man, who are you? Stay and have lunch with us.” Marlon, seemingly wanting to make me uncomfortable, played along, pretending to be the host. “Yes, join us for lunch.” Marina shot him a glare. “Kylian, why are you so talkative today? You’re not as pleasant as you used to be.” I couldn’t help but laugh at Marina’s words. I realized that while Marina mistook Marlon for me, she could still sense the difference between us. During lunch, Marina kept asking about me and showing concern. Estella tried to butt in but never got the chance. “Young man, are you married?” “No.” “Do you have a girlfriend?” I was silent for a couple of seconds, then firmly shook my head. “We broke up.” Estella’s fork slipped from her hand. She stared at me, wide-eyed, in disbelief. Marina’s eyes suddenly seemed clearer. She sighed and looked at me with affection. “It’s good you broke up. It’s good. Silly boy, you need to take care of yourself.” After the torment of the past few days, her warm words nearly brought tears to my eyes. But before I could shed a tear, Estella, disregarding her mother’s presence, angrily blurted out, “Kylian, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you trying to humiliate me in front of my mom?” I looked at this woman I had loved for six years, now so unfamiliar, and shook my head again, saying, “No, I’m serious. Let’s break up.” My voice was calm and resolute, with no trace of wavering. I made a final judgment on our relationship with a sense of detachment.

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