Category: English

My name was Oliver Pettyfer. My wife, Fiona Jameson, was a surgeon. Throughout her career, she had saved countless lives. But the one person she couldn’t save was me. Nathan Aniston, her true love, and I were in a car accident together. She rushed to his side first. It wasn’t until three months after my death that she realized the person frequently chatting with her on WhatsApp wasn’t me, and she panicked. After my death, bound by unfinished destiny, I lingered on as a spirit, quietly staying by Fiona’s side. The hospital corridors echoed with the sounds of screams and cries. Just an hour ago, a severe multi-vehicle collision had occurred on the city’s bridge; the scene was unbearable. Every doctor in the city, including Fiona, was called in to help. I lay in a pool of blood, struggling to suppress the metallic taste rising in my throat. When I saw Fiona, I felt a surge of relief. But the next moment, I felt as if I had plunged into an icy abyss. Fiona saw me lying there, yet she stepped over me and rushed to Nathan’s side. She lifted him, her face filled with concern and urgency I had never seen before. I was covered in blood, and I tried to tell her I was hurt, but as I opened my mouth, a torrent of blood gushed out. By the time I could lift my head again, Fiona had already placed Nathan in the ambulance. I didn’t want to die alone, so I mustered all my strength and called out her name, “Fiona…” Fiona turned back and looked at me coldly. “You just vomited some blood. Nathan has multiple fractures; he needs me more than you do. I know what you’re going to say, but you wait here. Someone else will come to help you.” With that, she slammed the ambulance door shut and disappeared from my sight with Nathan. Fiona didn’t know that a piece of rebar was embedded in my back, piercing through my body. I was about to die. If she had just looked closely, she would have seen it, but her attention was entirely on Nathan. But none of that mattered anymore. After all, what was left to fight for when one was about to die? The hospital was overflowing with patients, and there weren’t enough beds to go around. After finishing Nathan’s surgery, Fiona had no choice but to place him on a temporary bed in the hallway.

  Wrapped in bandages and looking pale and drained, Nathan tugged at Fiona’s heartstrings. In a hoarse voice, Nathan said, “I’m fine now. You should go check on Oliver; he sounded pretty bad too…” Fiona frowned sharply at the mention of my name. “What does it matter about that jealous, petty guy? Your health is what’s important right now.” Nathan fell silent for a moment. Then, as if reflecting on something significant, he continued, “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t come back, you two wouldn’t be in such a mess that it’s come to the brink of a divorce.” That was true. Just before the accident, Fiona and I were in heated discussions about our looming separation. Our marriage had been an arrangement between families, while Nathan was her university classmate. I knew all along that Fiona didn’t like me, but under the pressure from our families, we went through with it anyway. I tried everything to be the husband she deserved, hoping that one day I could take Nathan’s place in her heart. Then Nathan returned from abroad, shattering my hopes. Upon his return, he called Fiona first. It changed everything. Despite the fact that I was the one who married her, Fiona spent most of her time with Nathan. We had an explosive argument just before my accident. After I lost my cool, she stormed off. Moments later, I got a call from Nathan asking to meet. I never imagined I would crash my car on the way to see him—and that it would cost me my life. Shaking off those thoughts, I watched as Fiona tucked the blanket around Nathan, speaking softly, “It’s not your fault. Oliver and I were never on the same page. He’s too suspicious and overly sensitive; he doesn’t even take the time to understand me. Our divorce was mutual, so don’t blame yourself.” I wore a wry smile, thinking, “So, this is how she views me.” Just then, a frazzled nurse rushed over, holding my ID. “Dr. Jameson, your husband, Oliver, he…” Fiona’s expression instantly turned cold. “So he wants me to go see him? Please. He just coughed up a little blood. A grown man can handle that; he’s probably just faking to get some sympathy. Tell him I’m going through with the divorce and that he needs to stop bothering me.” Without allowing the nurse to respond, Fiona spun on her heel and walked away briskly, a wave of indignation trailing behind her. I remembered a time when I had a fever so high I barely knew what was happening. I’d pleaded with her to stay by my side. When I finally came to, she had slapped me hard and said, “Today was Nathan’s birthday! You made me break my promise to spend it with him just because you were sick. I know you did this on purpose, Oliver!” From that moment on, her disdain for me only deepened. Now, once again, she believed I was merely playing the sympathy card and would no longer trust me.

  My spirit followed Fiona as she left the hospital corridor. Just outside, she paused, pulling out her phone. After hesitating for a while, typing, and deleting, Fiona finally settled on one simple word: [Divorce.] Then she hit send. Fiona didn’t know I was gone and wouldn’t be able to respond to her message. But to my surprise, just as her message was sent, I found “myself” replying on the other end: [So you want a divorce because of Nathan, huh? Fine by me. I’ll sign whatever you want; you and this little charmer deserve each other!] At the sight of that message, Fiona’s anger boiled over, and she smashed her phone into pieces. “You’d better be serious about wanting a divorce! Don’t come crying to me later about regretting it!” As my spirit hovered nearby, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered. “Wait, I’m dead! How can I still respond to Fiona’s messages?” It felt like the person was deliberately imitating my tone down to the same punctuation. Before I could process it, Fiona picked up the shattered pieces of her phone from the floor and turned to leave. A week later, Nathan was discharged from the hospital. Fiona brought him back to our home. Nathan, perched in a wheelchair, looked around nervously and asked, “Are you sure Oliver won’t be upset about me being here?” Fiona shrugged off his concern. “Let him be. He has no right to question who I bring home, especially since he’s already agreed to the divorce.” Nathan’s surprise was palpable. “I can’t believe Oliver, who loves you so much, would actually agree to this. Did he say it himself?” With a soft “Hmm,” Fiona confirmed it. My spirit floated above them. I was desperate to shout that I was no longer alive and that I had never sent that message about the divorce. Yet whether I screamed or shouted, she couldn’t hear me. Fiona seemed determined to avoid mentioning my name. She changed the subject, saying, “You sit tight. I’ll get you a glass of water.” As she walked away, I noticed Nathan making an attempt to stand from his wheelchair. Nathan was unsteady, and just as he managed to get on his feet, his legs buckled, threatening to send him crashing to the floor. Fiona, seeing his struggle, tossed the water cup aside and rushed to catch him. The two of them tumbled down, Nathan landing heavily on top of Fiona, their bodies tangled in an intimate embrace. Looking deep into her eyes, Nathan said, “I’ve always held back because of Oliver, but now that you two are getting divorced, I feel free. Fiona, I like you—can we start over?” Fiona was clearly moved by his heartfelt declaration. She nodded, tears of joy welling in her eyes. Moments later, Nathan leaned in and kissed her, and she didn’t hesitate to respond with the same fervor. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. After all those years of marriage, Fiona had always kept me at a distance, never allowing me even the slightest touch, let alone anything more intimate. I had always respected her wishes and never forced myself on her. But now, the woman I had cared for so deeply was wrapped up in another man’s arms, responding to his every advance with a passion I had never witnessed from her. I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to leave this nightmare behind, but it was as if some invisible force held me captive, making me a helpless witness to this steamy scene. The sounds of their pleasure pierced through my ears as they somehow ended up rolling onto the bed, right in front of our wedding photos, crossing boundaries I had never imagined they would. I clamped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the reality unfolding before me. Time stretched on, feeling like an eternity, until finally, an hour had passed, and they drew their intimate encounter to a close. I watched coldly as the two of them lay in bed, having just finished their tryst. Fiona got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After she cleaned herself up, she decided to find a fresh pair of pajamas. But when Fiona opened the cupboard, she couldn’t find a single clean set. I used to take care of all the household chores—cleaning the clothes and preparing meals. I’d pampered her like a princess, so Fiona never had to worry about a thing. But now, nearly a week since my death, our once-tidy home had become a filthy mess. Irritated, she picked up the scattered clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washing machine, only to realize she had no idea how to use it. The kettle was empty, and the electric pot had no water. When Fiona opened the fridge, a nauseating odor of rotting vegetables hit her. Fiona stared at the chaos before her; her brow furrowed deeply. She thought about calling me but soon remembered her phone was broken and she hadn’t replaced it yet. With a bitter laugh, she muttered, “Oliver, did you really think all your efforts would keep me from moving on? How ridiculous!” With no other option and her stomach growling, Fiona reluctantly ordered takeout. ***** The next day, Fiona bought a new phone. Once she set it up and logged into WhatsApp, she noticed a plethora of unread messages. Among them were a few of my friends. One message read: [Do you know where Oliver is? It’s been a week since he went missing. I invited him to dinner, but he hasn’t shown up.] Fiona frowned but didn’t reply. Instead, she browsed through my status updates. Normally, I was someone who loved sharing snippets of my life, yet I hadn’t posted anything in almost a week. Her frown deepened further, and after a moment of contemplation, she decided to message me again. [Oliver, weren’t you the one who wanted a divorce? We can go get the paperwork in a few days!] The other side replied quickly: [Ha, you’re really eager to be with Nathan, huh? I’ll agree to the divorce, but you owe me for all those years of emotional damage.] [After all these years of marriage, you barely even let me touch you, and you had the nerve to cheat on me with Nathan. You owe me at least three million dollars in damages!] Fiona seethed as she read the message from the other side of my WhatsApp. Her chest heaved with anger. [Oliver, I can’t believe I ever trusted you!] Then, just like that, she transferred 500 thousand dollars to the other end of the chat. Fiona added, [I only have this much! Take it or leave it! See you in court in three days!] With that, she blocked me. Perhaps in her fury, she muttered one last insult, “Oliver, why don’t you just go die!” I thought, “Well, as you wished, Fiona, I really am dead.” If only she had paid a little more attention, she might have realized the truth of my death, but her heart was completely focused on Nathan. Fiona had been swamped with work, but she had taken three months off just to care for Nathan. Three months passed. Fiona finally returned to her job at the hospital. During the monthly staff meeting, the hospital administration brought up the tragic accident that had occurred on the cross-river bridge last month. They mentioned that 17 people had been critically injured and, sadly, one person had lost his life. The young nurse who had taken my ID to find Fiona sat next to her. She tugged at Fiona’s sleeve and leaned in. “Dr. Jameson, do you know who the single fatality from that accident was?” Fiona shook her head. “Actually, it was…” the nurse whispered.

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After Rebirth, the Real Daughter of a Rich Man Went Crazy In the moment my adoptive mother was about to slice me open, the wealthiest man in the land finally tracked me down. He was my biological father. He wept, begging me to return and promising recompense. I feigned a cringe, asking, “My foster mother said I could be sold to fund my brother’s education abroad. “Are you taking me away so that my sister can go abroad, too? “But I believe I’m worth more as a whole person.” My biological father was so distraught he contemplated killing my adoptive parents. I laughed it off. But the person I truly wished to eliminate was the one pretending to be me.

While we were in the midst of applying for our marriage license, Bryce Clark, my boyfriend of three years, received news that his neighbor, Patricia Adams, was about to give birth. Without any hesitation, he left me behind. “Patricia is about to give birth. I must take care of her. Let’s get the license another day.”

Under my mother’s strict discipline, I was successfully admitted to Harvel University. On the day the results were announced, everyone praised my mother’s educational methods, believing she would enjoy a happy life. A reporter came to interview her, and she shared her educational experiences without any humility. She said, “Only through strict discipline can a child achieve success.” The whole city was celebrating for me. However, I left a farewell letter and stood on the rooftop. I thought, “Mom, you wanted me to go to Harvel University, and I got accepted. Please let me go.” My mother held a doctorate, and my father had a master’s degree from a prestigious university. After I was born, I could speak at seven months and walk at eight months. Everyone praised me as a naturally smart child, saying that with proper nurturing, I would surely get into Harvel University. My mother thought the same. She even used Harvel as my name, naming me Harvel Walsh. She was very dedicated to this goal. By the time I was three, I still couldn’t write well. I went to kindergarten during the day and came home at night to recite past presidential speeches. While my peers played freely in the yard, I envied them, always peering longingly through the window. When my mother noticed, she had the curtains drawn, cutting off my desire to see the outside world completely. She would hit my palms with a stick, her face full of disdain. “These kids are already losing at the starting line and will achieve nothing great in the future. You cannot be led astray by them.” Relatives advised my mother to have another child, saying such good genes shouldn’t be wasted. But my mother firmly refused. “All my time and energy must be devoted to Harvel. She is meant to go to Harvel University; she cannot be distracted.” Then she turned to me and said, “I’ve sacrificed so much and pinned all my hopes on you. You must succeed in your application.” When I started elementary school, my mother’s methods became even stricter. I had to complete extra exercises she assigned until midnight, barely getting enough sleep. I often fell asleep over my work. My mother would stand behind me and wake me with a thin stick. “All you do is sleep. You’re not allowed to sleep until these exercises are finished.” In pain, I would tear up but dared not resist. Over time, my mental state deteriorated. Relatives couldn’t bear to watch anymore and said my mother was stifling my natural talent and would drive me crazy sooner or later. My mother was furious, accusing them of being jealous of her genius daughter. Relatives told my father, who worked far away, but he was powerless to intervene. He could only advise relatives to mind their own business. Later, the relatives stopped visiting, saying our family was crazy and anyone who got involved would be unlucky. But my mother was very satisfied with the situation. Every day, she stood behind me with a stick, watching me do my exercises. “Now that no one dares to disturb you, let’s see how you can slack off.” The stack of exercise books beside my desk kept growing higher. I felt exhausted. After graduating from elementary school, I entered the best junior high school in the city. In this new environment, no one knew me. Because of that, I made my first friend. Her name was Melinda Acosta, and she was my deskmate. Melinda was cheerful and struck up a conversation with me right away, sharing her favorite snacks. I was thrilled and reluctant to eat the snacks she gave me, keeping them hidden in my backpack. After school, I eagerly gave the snacks to my mother and told her about my first friend. But my mother turned around and threw the snacks into the trash, scolding me for being distracted by trivial things. I lowered my head and dared not speak further. She then asked about the girl’s grades. I answered honestly, “She’s at the bottom of the class.” My mother’s expression darkened, and she said nothing more. The next day, Melinda refused to play with me and even asked the teacher for a seat change. I was confused and went to ask her. Melinda shoved me hard and shouted, “Your mom called my house and said that a poor student like me doesn’t deserve to be friends with you and will only drag you down!” The whole class looked over, whispering among themselves. “What’s so great about good grades that you look down on others?” “Is her mom crazy? What’s wrong with having poor grades? How can she insult others?” I was so upset that tears streamed down my face as I walked away silently. Returning to my seat, I found that the desk and chair next to me were gone. The homeroom teacher awkwardly told me, “Your mother insisted that you sit alone, saying that other students would affect your studies.” I kept my head down and said I understood. From that day on, no one dared to come near me, afraid of being warned by my mother for talking to me. I ate alone every day, attended classes alone, and went home alone. Every night, I did exercises until late into the night. In every exam, I was at the top of the grade. My mother proudly proclaimed it everywhere. She said her daughter was indeed born to go to Harvel University. I bitterly thought, “Is this talent?” I touched the thick calluses on my hands. They were the marks left by countless exercises. Later, I entered the top high school in the province with the highest score in the city. I broke the record for the highest score ever and was awarded ten thousand dollars. My mother gleefully collected the money. Many of her colleagues came to ask her for advice on how to raise such an outstanding child. My mother called each one to share her experience. “I think it’s still about talent. Both my husband and I graduated from prestigious universities, so how could our child be any worse? “If there’s no talent, then it’s all about effort. My Harvel does ten worksheets a day without fail. “No talent and no effort? Then use punishment. Discipline produces devoted children and talented ones.” She posted a video on her Twitter account. The title was [Strict Mothers Are Good Mothers] In the video, when I got a question wrong, she hit my back with a stick. The post was shared by her colleagues and unexpectedly made the front page of a small but prominent newspaper’s website. The headline was: [Will Children Raised by Strict Mothers Become Successful or Rebel?] My mother firmly commented: [Of course they will become successful. Harvel has never defied me.] But soon, my actions completely embarrassed her.

At the top high school in the province, I was surrounded by classmates who were both intelligent and hardworking. I found it increasingly difficult to keep up with my studies. In the first monthly exam, my grades plummeted—I fell to 30th place in the year. My mother couldn’t accept this. She stormed into the school and caused a huge scene. She insisted there must have been a mistake in the grading process and demanded a recheck. “Harvel has been a top student all her life. How could she possibly rank so low? You must have taken bribes and deliberately marked her down!” The teachers were frustrated but helpless. I felt incredibly embarrassed and tried to tug at my mother’s sleeve, hoping she would leave. But she slapped me hard across the face, her expression twisted with rage. “Harvel, you’d better pray they really made a mistake, or you’ll be in big trouble!” I clutched my face and retreated to a corner. The teachers tried to persuade her, saying that no matter what, she shouldn’t lay hands on a child. But my mother wouldn’t listen. She was adamant about the recheck. Unable to stop her, the teachers had to call in the principal. The principal asked the teachers to pull out my exam papers and regrade them right in front of her. The results were the same. My mother’s face turned dark. Without a word, she dragged me home roughly, without even asking for leave. Back home, in that study with the sealed-off windows, I endured a beating worse than ever before. “Harvel, is this how you repay me? You think I can’t control you anymore? If you keep scoring this low, how do you expect to get into Harvel University?” I curled up in the corner, shutting my eyes against the pain. All the wounds were on my back; when I returned to school, no one would see them. I had become infamous at school. Everyone was talking about how my mother had made a scene. But I had grown numb to it. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. The teachers were concerned and subtly asked if I needed help. I shook my head and forced a smile. I knew no one could help me. For the first time, I skipped class and wandered to the pond behind the school. The pond was filled with thick lotus leaves, and the blooming lotuses were beautiful and mesmerizing. I stood there, lost in thought, and a dangerous idea flashed through my mind. I thought, “If I jump in, no one will find me. It would be a way to end all this suffering.” I didn’t even want my mother to have my body. I pressed my lips together and moved closer to the railing. “Woof… woof…” I had one foot over the railing when I suddenly heard a faint bark from the bushes nearby. I stopped and slowly pulled my leg back. I thought, “I should take a look. One last look.” I never had a childhood—only endless practice papers day and night. When I was seven, I dared to ask my mother if we could get a cat or a dog. But she coldly refused. To her, anything that could tempt me was a devil luring me to stray from my path. It wasn’t that I particularly liked cats or dogs—I just wanted to feel the presence of something alive. I just wanted to feel that I was still alive. I walked in the direction of the sound. As I got closer, I saw a boy crouching in the bushes. He was focused on feeding a small dog with a piece of sausage. I recognized him. He was Spencer Benton. He was the second-highest scorer in the recent monthly exams. His photo was on the school’s honor roll. Noticing my presence, he looked up and offered me the remaining half of the sausage with a gentle smile. “Do you want to feed it?” I pressed my lips together, silently took the sausage, and fed it to the little dog. The puppy ate eagerly, occasionally licking my fingers with its tongue. The sensation was strange and new. I was surprised by the feeling and found myself smiling for the first time in a long while. After feeding it the rest of the sausage, I was still reluctant to let go of the moment. “You’ve had your fill for today. No more being greedy.” Spencer gently stroked the puppy’s fur. His voice was soft and soothing. I was a bit surprised and asked quietly, “Do good students skip classes too?” Spencer chuckled and glanced at me. “Didn’t you skip class too?” I bit my lip and instinctively lowered my head. It was then that I noticed the faint white scars on the inside of his wrist. “You…” I instantly understood why he was wearing long sleeves in the summer. I looked at him in shock. Spencer seemed to notice my gaze. He tugged at his sleeve, hiding his exposed wrist. He continued stroking the dog, his eyes downcast. “Her name is Bonbon. Isn’t she cute?” “Bonbon was born to a stray dog here on campus. Her mom was beaten to death. She’s all alone, so I come by every day to feed her.” While he spoke, I sat down beside him. No one had ever shared anything personal with me before, so I listened with keen interest. Then, suddenly, Spencer fell silent. I looked at him in confusion. “To be honest, I saw you thinking about ending your life earlier, so I purposely made Bonbon bark. I bet you’d have something to hold on to.” He lifted his eyes, a faint, pained smile on his pale face. “And I was right. You came back on your own.” “Because we’re the same.” I froze, stunned. Maybe it was because it was the first time I had met someone in the same situation. We found so much in common. He told me about his family. He had a twin brother who was a genius. His brother had won numerous national awards and had already been admitted to a prestigious university. As his twin, Spencer had grown up constantly being compared to him. Without his brother’s high intelligence, Spencer had to work a hundred times harder to make up for it. But he could never quite measure up. I looked at him earnestly. “But you’re already very good.” Spencer gave a bitter smile. “If only they thought like you.” By “they,” he meant his parents. I fell silent, feeling unqualified to comfort him. Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He picked up Bonbon and placed her in her little nest. Before leaving, he extended an invitation. “Do you want to come by tomorrow to feed Bonbon together?” I nodded eagerly, feeling a secret surge of joy. I felt that this place had become a secret paradise, just for the two of us. On my way back to class, my steps felt lighter, and it seemed like even the breeze smelled sweet. But as soon as I reached the classroom, my smile froze. My mother was standing right outside the door, staring at me with cold, unforgiving eyes.

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As I settled into the plush leather seat of my wife’s luxury car, my eyes caught sight of cigarette ash scattered on the passenger side. My wife simply answered, “My new assistant is rather careless.” I filed for divorce, and her expression shifted to disbelief. “Is that all it takes to break us?” “Yes, that’s all it takes.” ***** Truth be told, I was not the petty type. Yet, when I once sat in my wife’s car and pulled out a cigarette case, she snatched it from my hand and hurled it out the window. Her face was contorted with disgust. “No smoking in my car! How many times must I tell you that?” For a moment, I could only offer a wry smile and pocket the lighter. So, when I spotted cigarette ash in her car, I realized her mysophobia wasn’t the issue; she was merely selective in her rules. Clearly, I wasn’t the one who could bend her principles. I had been married to Cindy Smith for three years. Over that time, Cindy had transformed from a fresh face in the company to a powerhouse in the workplace. Those who knew her well addressed her as Ms. Smith. I was merely the docile spouse trailing behind her shadow. Few knew that when Cindy and I ventured into business together, she suffered a miscarriage due to a drunken altercation with a client. I urged her to recuperate at home, but she refused. Unable to bear watching her suffer, I retreated, taking on the logistics behind the scenes. However, Cindy seemed to have forgotten that I once was a figure in the business world. I chose to step back out of pity for her, yet now, in her eyes, I had become a burden. Arriving at the company, I sent her the divorce papers. Cindy was stunned. “What are you doing? “Daniel Whitman, is there someone else in your life?” I offered a wry smile, “You really don’t know?” She took a deep breath. “Is it because we haven’t had a child in three years of marriage? “Didn’t I make it clear? I don’t want children! Can you stop pressuring me?” The “you” she referred to were my parents. Last time, when we went home for dinner, my mother made subtle jabs about having a grandchild. Cindy was displeased, resenting my mother for bringing up the topic. Initially, Cindy excused her poor health, but since my retirement, I had spent every day cooking for her, and her health had long since recovered. “No.” I pulled out my cigarette case, ready to light up, but Cindy slapped it away! “I’ve told you, no smoking around me!” I was taken aback, noticing the red mark she left on my hand, and my anger flared! “Others can smoke in your car, but not me, right? “Your mysophobia is just for me! And you ask why I want a divorce? What do you think?” It was the first time I raised my voice in front of Cindy. She was stunned for a moment, then realized her actions and fell silent. “Sign it, and let’s part ways amicably!” Seeing my resolve, Cindy couldn’t help but yell, “He’s a new hire this year with valuable connections. Otherwise, why would I indulge him? “Daniel, if you haven’t retired now, how can I possibly be this exhausted?” Little did Cindy know that her eyes brimmed with contempt as she complained about me. There was no underlying resentment but palpable disdain that spoke volumes of her current feelings in her eyes. I couldn’t help but sneer, “Since you’re so tired and see me as a burden, why not divorce me? “Sign it!” Seeing my insistence on divorce, Cindy made a scene and refused to sign, kicking me out directly! As I stepped out, the office outside was eerily quiet. I spotted a young man at once, and he looked at me with a peculiar expression. “Daniel! Ms. Smith has been working too hard lately, so she’s upset. Don’t take it personally.” I glanced at his badge, revealing his position as Cindy’s assistant. The realization that he was the one smoking struck me. I thought, “With such a young hottie, no wonder Cindy naturally looked down on me.” I ignored his words and turned to leave, but he insisted on escorting me out. “Daniel, if I were in your shoes, I’d leave sooner rather than later. Being a kept man isn’t as sweet as it seems, especially when you’re utterly useless and can’t assist her in any way!”

He was convinced that I was nothing more than a leech, and his tone towards me had lost its former respect. I watched as I reached out to remove his work badge, rubbing it between my fingers before gazing at him. “Do you really think I’m living off her?” “What else could it be? Ms. Smith works tirelessly. A man like you isn’t fit to be by her side. Leave now. Don’t ever show your face at the company again, lest you anger Ms. Smith!” With those words, he snatched the badge from my hand, turned on his heel, and departed by fastening it to his collar. I watched his retreating figure and couldn’t help but sneer. Everyone labeled me as the insignificant man behind Cindy’s success. But few knew the truth. When Cindy’s company, Smith Group, was on the brink of collapse, it was my family who offered three million dollars to save it from ruin. As she gradually found her footing, Cindy threw herself into her work with relentless vigor. To shield her from excessive drinking and to ease her burdens, I secretly reached out to my father’s influential friends. It was through securing a steady stream of orders for Smith Group that Cindy ascended to the pinnacle of her industry, transforming into a formidable force. Now that the company was stable, did she intend to abandon me and look down on me? Cindy likely forgot the humble pleas for help she once made. It had only been three years, and she probably assumed my family had fallen into decline after witnessing our move from a lavish villa to a modest apartment and then to a junior suite, didn’t she? I couldn’t help but chuckle. My parents merely felt the grand house was too vast and lonely for the two of them, so they opted for a cozier abode. In reality, we still owned villas and expansive apartments. Upon returning home, I went straight to my parents. My mother frowned upon seeing my dejected state. “Why are you here alone? Where’s Cindy?” “Mom, Dad, I want a divorce.” My mother was stunned upon hearing this. “Why the sudden divorce? You must think this through carefully!” My father also scrutinized me with a grave expression. “After three years of marriage, you’re calling it quits. Did we offend her last time when we urged her to be pregnant?” I took a drag from my cigarette and exhaled a long sigh. “I feel like I’ve become a pushover, unworthy of her.” Hearing this, my parents burst into laughter. “I suppose they thought our family was in dire straits. You’re not working now, so after benefiting from us, she wants to cut ties and kick you out! “Is she cheating on you?” I nodded. “Absolutely!” Mental infidelity, though not physical, was still a betrayal of the heart. Even amidst my uncertainty, I could discern from Cindy’s demeanor around the young man that their connection transcended the boundaries of casual friendship. My mother slammed the table. “She cheats on you during marriage and still has the audacity to disdain you. If that’s the case, then by all means, divorce!” I was a bit taken aback. My mother looked at me and comforted me. “Don’t worry. Our family isn’t the type to cling. We don’t covet Smith Group! “We still have some resources left.” My father led me to the study and handed me a stack of documents. Upon opening them, I was astonished. “Dad, you have so many ventures!” My father was quite proud. “Of course, I don’t dabble in what I can’t handle. The three million dollars I invested in Smith Group before was just a drop in the ocean! “If I were to throw three hundred million dollars at Cindy, she’d surely leap at the chance and latch onto us to drain our resources. “Your mother and I extended our help to Cindy because we believed it would pave the way for a harmonious life between you two. But we never expected her to be so ungrateful and turn her back on us! “In that case, let’s not hold back. We don’t need people like her!” With my father’s backing, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Now that I had money, I could proceed without reservation!

Previously, I had imagined our family’s wealth to be at most in the tens of millions of dollars, but now it appeared to be an order of magnitude greater. At that moment, I nodded and greeted my father’s old companions. My father had invited them to dinner, announcing his intention to make a grand return to the business world and entrust everything to me. Upon hearing this, his friends lit up with joy, clapping me on the shoulder. “Daniel, your dad has finally seen the light. He retired early, saying he wanted to bask in the joy of grandchildren, but here he is, three years later, back for you!” I felt a twinge of guilt. “It’s all for me. It’s not right for me to just lounge at home at such a young age. I might as well venture out and test my fate.” “Absolutely! Come intern at my company!” Bob Short, who had watched me grow, extended a warm invitation. “Spend some time with me and get a feel for things. There’s no rush; treat it like a game! “And I’ve got a new project kicking off. How about you give me your thoughts?” “No problem.” I agreed readily, and my father smiled in approval. After that meal, the entire market landscape shifted. Though my father had left the business world, his legend endured. As his son, I was naturally a chip off the old block. Bob was the first to court me, not just for our longstanding friendship but more for the resources my family commanded. To bolster Smith Group and Cindy, my father leveraged his connections to a certain extent. That explained why Cindy’s ascent was so meteoric. But now, the tide turned. With my decision to act, Smith Group’s fortunes would change. After the meal, I returned to pack my belongings. Just as I finished, Cindy arrived. The alcohol on her breath spoke volumes of her state of inebriation. Predictably, it was the young man who had escorted her home. Cindy sneered at the sight of me, but upon noticing the luggage beside me, she was irritated. “Daniel, what are you planning?” “A divorce. Didn’t I make that clear?” I handed her the printed divorce agreement. “Return the 300,000 dollars I invested, and I won’t ask for anything else. “Just sign it. After all, someone is waiting for you.” My words carried weight, and Cindy flushed with rage. “You! Just wait for me!” “Fine, I will see you at nine tomorrow morning!” With that, I dragged my suitcase and left without a backward glance. The man beside Cindy shot me a contemptuous smirk, but I paid him no heed. If he fancied Cindy, he was welcome to her. I had no desire for her anymore. Upon returning to my parents’ home, that man quickly sent me a friend request. Opening it, I discovered his name was Max George. He sent me a video of Cindy lying on the bed. Their fingers were interlaced. The video revealed Cindy’s nightgown, a stark contrast to the regular clothes she had on when she returned. Who else could be in the house but Max? I thought, “Max had no shame, but that was fine by me. Given that his bond with Cindy had transcended the realm of mere friendship, it was only fitting for me to seek a divorce from Cindy.” Pondering this, I messaged Max. Daniel: [Has she signed the divorce agreement? Max, surely you haven’t lost your charm? You’ve managed to draw her into your embrace, yet she’s still not ready to commit to you!] Max erupted in anger. I was about to send an emoji when a red exclamation point appeared. He deleted me! I smiled, put my phone away, and was about to rest when there was a knock on the door. “Daniel, come out! “You brat, how dare you mention divorce? Who do you think you are? Get out here now!”

I leaped up with a mix of excitement and disbelief coursing through me. Why was Lily Smith here? My parents, equally perturbed, opened the door to welcome our unexpected guests. Lily was Cindy’s sister, whose existence was defined by indulgence. There she was, alongside her husband, Jason Brown, standing in our living room. Their fury was palpable. Catching sight of me, Lily sneered, “Mr. and Mrs. Whitman, you’ve really outdone yourselves with your parenting. Teaching a son like Daniel is truly an eye-opener!” “Thank you.” My mother replied coolly and perched on the sofa with an air of nonchalance. Lily was momentarily taken aback. My mother might have been considered polite, but her tone was anything but. Lily stood there, momentarily lost for words, until Jason piped up, “Your family is utterly heartless. You’ve lived off Cindy for three years, but you now want a divorce? “When Cindy called us, she said Daniel was filing for divorce and wanted 300,000 dollars! What’s this? Trying to split the family fortune?” I scoffed, “Family fortune? Cindy’s worth is over thirty million dollars. Is it wrong to take back my three million dollars? “If you think it’s too much, I can sue. I’ll consult a lawyer right away. Given her infidelity during marriage, don’t I deserve greater recompense?” “What did you say? How dare you slander her?” I presented the video Max had given me, thrusting it into their line of sight. “Take a good look. We’re all adults here. She’s lying on the bed with another man! Shouldn’t I seek a divorce?” They were unprepared for this turn of events. Thanks to Max, Cindy’s face was vividly clear on the screen, and the soft moans escaping her pink lips were enough to bring a blush to Lily’s cheeks. My mother slammed her palm on the table and shouted, “What a shameless daughter your family has raised! Cindy cheats during marriage, bringing her lover back to the marital bed, but now you dare question my son! “Lily, is this how you’ve taught your sister?” Lily, caught off guard by the revelation, flushed with embarrassment. Thanks to Cindy, Lily had lived like a queen at home. Her hand was never far from the purse strings when it came to jewelry, and her demeanor was haughty at every social gathering. Little did they know that they were all benefiting from the largesse of my family. Now, they had the audacity to confront me, only to be blindsided by this video. I smiled, “Go back and tell Cindy to sign the divorce papers, or I’ll release this video to the public! “Our family isn’t what it once was. If anything were to happen to us, there’s not much left for us to lose. But for your family, the stakes are entirely different.” The Smith family had only recently risen to prominence, so their roots were not yet deep enough to secure their newfound status. Acutely aware of their vulnerability, Lily could easily foresee the collapse that would ensue if Cindy were to falter. She felt scared. Jason was equally anxious and blurted out, “You can’t divorce! You’ve been married for three years!” Ignoring their pleas, I stated with a solemnity that brooked no argument, “You have three days. If Cindy doesn’t agree to the divorce, I’ll send the video to the media. By then, your family is doomed!” My ultimatum sent them into a frenzy. Lily hesitated, unable to form a coherent response for a long while. My mother, ever direct, opened the door and physically ejected them from our home. She turned to me. “If I had known they were this despicable, we should have cut ties long ago. Why wait until now? “You’re too soft-hearted sometimes.” I sighed. It wasn’t soft-heartedness that held me back. From the start, I had hoped for a happy life with Cindy. When we first crossed paths, I was genuinely taken with Cindy. She embodied an air of pure innocence. It was apparent, in every gesture and word, that she had been nurtured with the utmost care and refinement. But I was deceived by her appearance. Once she had used me to achieve her ambitions, she cast me aside like a spent tool.

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My parents gave me two hundred thousand dollars for my graduation trip. My boyfriend, Rylan Blake, wanted to come along, so I agreed. On the day we boarded, he showed up empty-handed with his parents and brother. His parents didn’t chip in a dime. They were not even for her underwear; that was on my tab, too. His brother, Alvin Blake, threw a fit at the amusement park, making us miss our train to the next stop. I lost my cool and snapped at the little brat. His parents immediately hardened, and she started scolding me with her hands on her hips. “How dare you yell at Alvin? He’s your future husband’s brother. Whatever he wants, you better provide!” My boyfriend held me back as I was about to retort, saying that his parents had worked hard their entire lives and this was their rare chance to travel, so it shouldn’t be difficult. Fine, fine, if that were the case, I would indulge them. That evening, I booked two presidential suites for them at a five-star hotel and took them out for a luxurious dinner. While they were busy taking photos, I made a smooth exit. At the airport, I was reviewing my travel itinerary while waiting for my boyfriend, Rylan Blake. Suddenly, an unruly child burst onto the scene, jumping and bouncing around. He yelled at the top of his lungs, “Airplane! We’re going on a big airplane!” People he bumped into or stepped on glared at him with annoyance, but he only became more energized. Just then, Rylan appeared in the distance, waving at me. I smiled and waved back. I had been planning this graduation trip for ages, and my parents generously gave me two hundred thousand to have a blast. My boyfriend Rylan, who I’ve been dating for two years, mentioned that he’s never even left the province and wanted to see the world with me. So I agreed to bring him along. Halfway through the trip, I noticed a man and a woman trailing behind Rylan. They gave a thumbs-up to the same kid who had caused trouble earlier. “Olivia, these are my parents, and that’s my younger brother Alvin Blake.” “The three of them didn’t buy plane tickets. Is it too late to buy them now?” Rylan pointed at the three of them, who hadn’t brought any luggage, and looked at me expectantly. His father, Oscar Blake, clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at me expressionlessly. His mother, Wendy Blake, on the other hand, unabashedly sized me up from head to toe. I felt a bit offended. However, Rylan mentioned that his parents had spent their whole life in the countryside. Perhaps their customs were different, and I could understand. The original plan for a romantic getaway for two turned into a trip with my boyfriend’s entire family, and my excitement instantly plummeted. Rylan seemed to sense my displeasure and pulled me aside. “Olivia, my parents worked hard to put me through college, and I want to take them on a trip. “They wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Alvin home alone. “When I start working and earning money, I’ll take your parents on a trip too.” He spoke sincerely. Although my parents didn’t need him to spend money on them, his intentions were good. It was about understanding and compromising with each other. I nodded in agreement. Knowing Rylan’s financial situation, I took the initiative to buy their plane tickets. After boarding the plane, Alvin was so excited that he was jumping up and down and making strange noises. The other passengers were very annoyed and complained. The flight attendants tried to calm him down several times, but it didn’t work, and Wendy even accused them of meddling. I had to ask Rylan to intervene. When Alvin heard that he might be kicked off the plane, he finally quieted down. However, his parents looked at me with great displeasure. Two hours later, the plane finally landed in Kingstown. The sun was relentless, and the heat was stifling, making us all eager to get to the hotel and rest. As per the original plan, I had only booked two rooms. Now, with the hotel fully booked, we couldn’t get an extra room for Rylan’s family. “How are two rooms not enough? Rylan and Olivia can share one, and the three of us can take the other,” Oscar declared as if it were the most obvious solution. I quickly objected, “Mr. Blake, Rylan and I aren’t married. We can’t share a room.” My parents had raised me to value self-respect and to be cautious about intimacy before marriage. Wendy scoffed, her eyes lingering on my bare legs exposed by my shorts. “You’re with our Rylan now. This is bound to happen sooner or later. Don’t be so prudish.” Her words made me extremely uncomfortable. The others were also giving us strange looks. My already poor impression of them worsened, and my patience finally snapped.

To avoid delaying other guests’ check-in, I pulled them aside. “Mrs. Blake. Rylan and I aren’t married yet. You’re overstepping with such personal matters.” My sharp retort didn’t sit well with Wendy. Just as she was about to blow up, Rylan arrived with water, offering a glass to each of us. When he reached Wendy, she didn’t take the water, only wiping her tears with her sleeve. “Rylan, you’re so successful now, mom’s words don’t matter anymore.” Oscar also had a dark expression, refusing to drink the water. It was as if I had caused them immense grievance while Rylan was away. How could they still be playing these manipulative games at their age? I looked Rylan in the eyes and demanded sharply, “Your mom said in public that I should share a room with you and sleep with you. “Ask any woman here how they’d feel about that.” Rylan didn’t expect me to get so angry and kept apologizing profusely. “My mom is just like that. She has a sharp tongue but a good heart. “She thought having us share a room would save you money.” At least they knew they were spending my money. He whispered something to Wendy, and though she looked reluctant, she came over to apologize for what had happened. Rylan winked at me and put his hands together in a pleading gesture. I didn’t want to stay angry and ruin the trip, so I softened my expression and offered to find them another hotel. Alvin was enjoying the air conditioning in the hotel lobby and refused to leave. So Rylan asked his parents to stay there with Alvin while he went to find another hotel. I was tired and didn’t have the energy to deal with their issues. I took my key card and went to my room to rest. I had booked two connecting rooms, and his parents loud voice could still be heard through the wall. They seemed to be saying they were hungry and wanted to eat and that it was time to take a shower and change clothes. The sound was intermittent, and it was making it hard for me to sleep. Just then, my mom called to ask how my trip was going. I vented all my frustrations from the day, not caring if the people next door could hear me. “Rylan’s mom actually said that to you in the lobby?” My mom’s voice was shocked and displeased. She was a university professor, and she usually interacted with students and intellectuals. She had never heard such rude and disrespectful language. “Olivia, Rylan is a good kid. How can his parents be like this?” I was silent because I didn’t know the answer either. From meeting in a club activity to me accepting his advances, Rylan had always given me the impression of being gentle, courteous, and responsible. He always indulged my little whims and fancies. Besides, he excelled in his studies and was ambitious. My parents met him once at school and were very impressed. They didn’t care about Rylan’s family background; as long as he was honest, dependable, and would love and cherish me, it was enough for them. If nothing unexpected happened, we were going to get married. However, after interacting with his family today, I felt it was better to put the marriage talk on hold for now. After a while, my mom spoke again. “Olivia, if you want a long-term relationship with Rylan, you have to consider his parents and family. “He can pretend in front of you, but what is he like in front of his parents when he doesn’t need to pretend? “You need to see his true character clearly. In any case, Mom will always support your decision.” My nose tingled; it felt so good to be loved by my mom. “Oh, and your dad is busy with the branch office in Kingstown these days. If you have any trouble, just contact him directly.” Just as I hung up the phone, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Rylan, sweating profusely, holding a bag of oranges out to me.

After taking a plane or train, I tend to feel nauseous and want to vomit. Eating oranges always helped. He had always been mindful of this little quirk of mine. “Aren’t you going to invite me in to cool off?” Rylan offered the oranges again. I didn’t take the oranges, but I opened the door to let him in. He went on about finding a cheap hotel nearby and asked if I was still planning to visit Kingstown’s famous night market tonight. The thought of the bustling market and its diverse array of goods lifted my spirits. I took the peeled oranges from him, and we shared them. As night fell, the weather cooled down considerably. The night market was a seemingly endless street filled with clothes, shoes, trinkets, and specialties from all over the country. I was having a great time browsing when a vendor grabbed my arm. “Miss, you haven’t paid yet!” He ran a clothing stall, but I didn’t buy anything from him. The owner pointed at Rylan’s parents’ backs. “They said you’d pay.” They were carrying a bag of clothes, and Alvin had a handful of grilled sausages. Seeing my hesitation, the owner grew impatient. “You’re not trying to skip out on the bill, are you?” Rylan stepped forward to explain and urged me to pay quickly. The long bill included underwear, socks, and other items. The total came to 1562 dollars. Then there was the grilled food, which cost 86 dollars. As we continued walking, several other vendors asked me to settle their bills. Rylan, beside me, was excitedly looking around, completely oblivious to the situation. I stopped and said sternly, “Rylan, your parents came to Kingstown without bringing anything. “They’re treating me like an ATM, aren’t they?” Rylan held a pair of shoes Oscar had worn, examining them as he spoke. “Olivia, why are you making such a fuss over this little bit of money? “Your mom gave you two hundred thousand dollars, so what’s the big deal if my parents buy some clothes and shoes?” His tone implied that it was my duty to foot the bill for them. “That two hundred thousand dollars is my money, and how I spend it is my decision. “Who says just because I have money, I have to buy clothes for your parents and snacks for your brother?” Rylan froze, then looked at me with a wounded expression. “Olivia, we’re going to be family soon. It hurts when you talk like that. “Shouldn’t family members support each other? What’s wrong with spending a little money now to make the elders happy? “When I have money in the future, I’ll also take care of your parents.” It finally dawned on me. Rylan was painting a rosy picture for me, like a boss promising future rewards to his employees. He was saying that when he makes it big someday, he would take my parents on trips and shower them with gifts. He was so sure of his bright future that he saw my current contributions as an early investment, something he deserved to receive without any guilt. So, I saw my current contributions as an early investment in him, something he deserved. Yet, he still hadn’t found a job. While everyone else was busy sending out resumes during spring and fall recruiting seasons, he was out wining and dining people, all on my dime. He called it “looking for entrepreneurial partners”. He looked down on ordinary jobs, only dreaming of getting rich quickly and soaring to the top. In a positive light, it was ambition. In a negative light, it was impatience. They said travel was the ultimate test of a relationship. Less than a day in, and he was already showing his true colors. I calm down, deciding to test the sincerity of his words. “Rylan, you’re right, family should support each other. “I have a bit of a headache now, and I’d like some mint lemonade.” With that, I hold my head and squat down. Rylan’s parents kept piling on purchases. Seeing that I hadn’t followed to pay, they turned around and angrily demanded to know what I was doing.

Rylan accused me of making a fuss over nothing. “It is Kingstown, not Butterwort. Where do you think you’ll find mint lemonade here? “Are you trying to ruin the mood for my parents?” Kingstown had mint lemonade; he just couldn’t be bothered to look for it. It was what he meant by supporting each other. It essentially meant I could support his family, but his family couldn’t return the favor. I went along with Rylan’s words. “Fine, I won’t ruin the fun. I’m heading back to the hotel.” I stood up, shouldered my bag, and returned to the hotel alone. The front desk handed me a long bill. It turned out Rylan’s parents had ordered room service. They’d ordered every overpriced dish on the menu. I put away the bills, returned to my room, locked the door, and prepared to take a bath. Between the flights, hotel, and various other expenses, the Blake family had already cost me over twenty-six thousand dollars. My planned trip still had fourteen days left. If things continued like this, I wouldn’t even be able to afford a return ticket. I’d deal with the breakup later. Since I was already here, I was determined to complete my planned itinerary. I hung up on Rylan’s call and went to bed early, deciding to go to the amusement park alone the next day. When I finished my makeup and set off with my selfie stick, Rylan’s parents’ room was still quiet. Finally, I could enjoy myself alone. It was cloudy today, but it was more relaxed than yesterday. In a great mood, I lined up outside the park to get my ticket checked. To my surprise, Rylan showed up with his entire family. Alvin, who had always been rude to me, rushed over as soon as he saw me, begging to ride the coin-operated kiddie ride. “Olivia, please, just let me play for a little while,” he pleaded, lying on the ground and refusing to get up, drawing the attention of both visitors and staff. Rylan knew I hated making a scene in public, which was why he had the owner make me pay the bill last night. He was trying the same trick today, but it wasn’t going to work. I didn’t even glance at him, continuing to wait in line for the ticket check. Because his tantrum was disrupting the order of the amusement park, security had to step in and remove Alvin. It triggered Wendy. She immediately went up and shoved the security guard, who accidentally bumped into her during the struggle. She instantly collapsed to the ground. The park management had no choice but to call the police. Rylan pointed me out as a related witness, so I ended up going to the police station, too. Because of the complicated situation between Rylan, Wendy, and the security guard, the mediation dragged on for two hours without any resolution. Alvin, under someone’s influence, cried incessantly, claiming the security guard had broken his arm. So, we went back to the hospital for another X-ray. The amusement park plan was ruined. We also missed the 3 pm train, and tomorrow’s trip to Oceana was off the table. The ridiculous part was that Wendy actually had the nerve to demand that I pay the hospital bill. “If it weren’t for you, Alvin wouldn’t have been hurt.” I looked at the perfectly fine Alvin and the now useless Disney tickets, my anger boiling over. “Is he hurt? Where is he hurt?” Furious, I grabbed his arm and shook it back and forth. “If he hadn’t been rolling around on the ground at the entrance, I’d be taking pictures and watching shows at Disney right now. “Every time he walked with me, I wanted to find a hole to crawl into, do you understand?” From the airport onwards, Alvin’s bratty behavior annoyed countless people. Only Wendy still thought her child’s wildness and boldness were admirable. Rylan and Wendy swatted my hand away and shielded their younger son. Oscar glared at me fiercely and said, “Alvin is your husband’s brother. You have to give him whatever he wants, or you can forget about joining the Blake family.” They thought the Blake family was some prestigious clan everyone was dying to join. I pulled out a mirror from my bag and held it up to them. “Take a good look. You guys think you’re something special, huh? Chasing after things way out of your league and still not satisfied. “And now you want your whole family to get a piece of that swan. “Well, let me tell you, swans aren’t so easy to fool. Be careful, or one of them might just peck you back to reality.” Rylan came rushing over with the inspection report in hand. He snatched the mirror out of mine, frustrated. “How can you speak to my family like that?”

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I almost died from severe bleeding while giving birth to my daughter. My husband Arthur was not around, he told me on the phone that he wished he could drop everything and come back to me. But later I found out wedding photos of him and his first love on his other Twitter account. The date was the same day I had my difficult labor…

When I first met my boyfriend’s twin, he asked, “Can you tell us apart?” Back then, I nodded confidently. Later, they blindfolded me and made me guess. If I got it wrong, I’d get punished…

Abby “If you want to meet with the Alpha, you’ll have to book ahead of time. And he’s booked out for three months.” The cool words of Karl’s secretary run through my mind for the millionth time. I tried reminding her he’s also my husband, but it didn’t matter. He’s been so busy with work that I haven’t spoken to him in a month. But it’s finally Christmas and all the Alphas are expected to be home celebrating with their families. I stop in front of the mirror one last time, just to make sure everything’s perfect. I run my fingers through my silky black hair, marveling at the new color. He loves black hair, so I decided to surprise him. I’m wearing a red lingerie set I bought especially for tonight and red lipstick to match. I feel Karl’s presence, and turn to look at him, a wide smile already on my face. I have to resist the urge to run across the room and jump into his arms. His expression is unreadable. His brown eyes meet mine, but there’s none of the usual warmth when he looks at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a step forward. His eyes sweep over me, but he doesn’t comment on what I’m wearing, or my hair. “Abby.” His voice is harsh, and I shrink back a little. “Let’s get a divorce.” Three Years Later “Hey, Abby.” I smile at my restaurant manager, Olivia. “Hey, how are things going out here?” I walk around the front desk to stand beside her. “Another busy night, it seems.” I look around at the packed restaurant. “Sure, is.” A sudden feeling of pride flows through me. When I started here, hardly anyone knew about this place. Now it’s one of the most popular eateries in the capital, all thanks to me and my team. My best friend Chloe walks in with her friend, Jennine, her smile widening at the sight of me behind the counter. She walks up and nods hello to Olivia. “Look at you.” Chloe practically beams with excitement, and I can’t help but grin. “If he could see you now.” I don’t have to ask to know she’s talking about Karl. It’s been three years since the divorce. At first, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I felt lost without my role as Luna, but now I own a restaurant and I’m a chef. It might not be what I expected, but I’m happy. “He’d go crazy if he saw you like this,” Chloe continues. He certainly would. I don’t think he’d be able to handle knowing that his ex-wife is doing what I’m doing. But he gave up his right to dictate my life when he ended our marriage without warning. The door opens, and Emily enters. The minute she sees me behind the desk, a sympathetic look crosses her face. I know she enjoys seeing me like this, but I plaster on my best customer-service smile. “Hi Emily, how are you?” Her husband enters behind her, his gaze locked on his phone. “Good dear,” she says. She lifts her hand to adjust her bangs, a diamond tennis bracelet glinting on her wrist. Emily is outrageously wealthy. We knew each other back when we were both Luna, and I know she just comes in here to see me is all my ‘misery.’ “Oh, just the regular for us, dear,” she says. She’s taken to calling me dear now that I’m a restaurant owner and not a Luna like her. It’s always said with pity, but I don’t let it get to me. I return with their drinks moments later, placing them carefully on the table. Emily takes a sip and smiles up at me. “Who would have thought we’d end up here?” I know she really means me and not ‘we,’ but I just nod my head. “Abby, the envy of the town, now a waitress.” I don’t bother pointing out that I’m the owner and chef. “Who ever thought that after divorcing Karl, you’d end up a staff member?” She’s got that fake sympathetic smile back on her face. I know what she’s thinking. Poor Abby, abandoned by Karl. “I certainly am a little envious,” I say, glancing at her husband. A smug look crosses her face. I know that one reason, if not the main reason, she comes in here is that she enjoys seeing me like this. I’ve used that to my advantage. My former role as Karl’s wife has allowed me to turn this restaurant into a place where the elite gather. “Your waiter will be right with you,” I say with a diplomatic smile. “I’m here if you need anything.” I retreat to the counter when she waves me off. This restaurant is the first thing I’ve owned. The first thing that’s truly mine, and a few mean comments can’t take that away from me. I know she’ll be back, eager to watch my downfall. From Luna to a mere chef–but I don’t mind. The room is packed with all the wealthy people I used to run in the same circles with. I know where they like to sit, their tastes, what they usually order to eat and drink. All the qualities that made me a good Luna have made me great at my job. A man in a tailored suit walks in, his dress shoes shining in the restaurant lights. He approaches the counter and I give him a welcoming smile. “Hi, how can I help you today?” I ask. I’ve never seen him before, but he certainly looks important. “I want to book this restaurant,” he says. I glance at the books and frown. “I’m sorry, Sir, but we’re fully booked for the week. You’ll have to wait until next week.” He frowns and takes a somewhat menacing step forward. “Don’t you know who I am?” he seethes. My eyebrows go up. “My boss is Karl from the Moon River pack, one of the most powerful Alphas. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” I step around the counter and smile at him, my hands clasped in front of me. “Tell Karl that I’m the boss. If he needs anything, he can make an appointment with my restaurant manager.” I nod at Olivia, who smiles. The man shakes his head. “Are you sure about this? Do you know his background?” I know only too well, but I just raise an eyebrow. “If it’s Karl, his appointment will be scheduled in three months.” I turn and walk back through the restaurant, leaving Olivia to deal with him. I push into the kitchen and breathe in the scent of cooking food, a satisfied smile overtaking my face. Maybe it wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s time Karl gets a taste of his own medicine.

Abby “Abby, these are so good,” Leah says, humming slightly as she chews her lemon poppyseed muffin. They’re a specialty of mine. Leah, Chloe, and I have a standing afternoon tea date in the capital. Once a week, we get together to catch up on everything we’ve missed. “Thank you,” I say, blushing slightly. I have a contract to provide desserts for this restaurant and a few others. “Your desserts are getting better and better,” Chloe adds. She’s already finished her blueberry scone and has several others in a box to take home to her mother. “All thanks to you guys,” I say. “You’re my first tasters after all.” Leah wipes some stray sugar off the edge of her lip. “A role I treasure.” “You’ll never guess who came into the restaurant the other night,” I say, doing my best to sound nonchalant. “Who?” Chloe asks, pushing her hair behind her ears. “A member of Karl’s staff. He wanted to make a reservation.” Leah looks up, closing the compact mirror with a loud snap. “Tell me you didn’t say yes to him!” I laugh. “I told him we’re reserved three months out. He doesn’t stand a chance.” Chloe grins and high fives me. Across the table, Leah gives me an approving look. “Good, I’m proud of you, girlie.” “I know you guys never really liked him…” Chloe shakes her head. “I liked him at first, but he dragged you along way longer than he needed to. He never treated you right.” I sit back in my chair, trying to quell the rise of indignation. Far be it from me to suddenly stand up for Karl, but I do believe he truly loved me at one point. He couldn’t have faked everything without me picking up on it. There was a time when I meant the world to him. “You sacrificed too much for him,” Leah adds, probably noticing my skeptical look. “You think?” I ask. She nods. “Everything changed the minute you married him. You had to dress the way he wanted you to dress.” I concede that point. Karl never liked me to dress too flashy. He preferred me to dress more conservatively, so that’s what I did. At the time, I didn’t really mind. I was willing to do just about anything if I knew it would make him happy. “Don’t even get me started on the black hair,” Chloe jumps in. I push my long, golden curls off my shoulder. It took me forever to get it back to my natural color. “He loved the black hair,” I say. Leah frowns. “He was too controlling.” “Way too controlling,” Chloe agrees. I know they’re right, but I hate admitting it, even to them. It’s hard to think about all the things I changed about myself just for him. I changed so much that when I look back at pictures from that time, I don’t even recognize myself. That’s why I hide all evidence of my past life at the back of my closet, where I can pretend it doesn’t exist. “He also hated when I cooked,” I say in a small voice, kicking myself a little for how feeble I sound. I’ve always loved to cook, but Karl never understood why I wanted to spend my time in the kitchen when I could have been reading or studying instead. And, like everything else, I resisted the urge to do what I really wanted so I could do what he said. “And you’re so talented at it,” Chloe says, gesturing to the crumbs on her plate. I was a good housewife, and I did whatever I could to please him, but even that wasn’t good enough. He still left me, for no reason that I can think of. And without a good education, and my father’s businesses in jeopardy, I had no way to make a living. Nobody would hire me. To top it off, no matter how many times I asked, he never told me why he decided to leave me. To this day, I still don’t know. Just thinking about the darkness I plunged into during those months after the divorce makes something heavy sit on my chest. My wolf took it just as hard, if not harder, and she’s been in a coma ever since. “He’s trash,” Leah says, conclusively. “Total garbage,” Chloe agrees. “You gave him way too much of yourself, and he never deserved it.” “But hey, at least you got a good settlement in the divorce.” Leah twirls a strand of chocolate brown hair around her finger. “Now you have this great life you created all for yourself.” “I am happy,” I say. Chloe reaches over and squeezes my hand. “And you deserve to be.” “I wonder what he’s up to now,” Leah says, pulling out her phone. She quickly searches Karl up and then shows us a photo of him in the capital. It’s of him, looking handsome in a well-cut suit. Apparently, he’s staying in the capital for an upcoming Alpha party. “I don’t even want to know,” I say, waving the phone away. “This interview is something you have to see!” Leah practically screams. “God, he’s ridiculous!” The three of us lean forward to look at the screen. It’s Karl’s business story. The interview is with Karl’s secretary and she’s going on and on about how wonderful Karl is and how cool he is. She’s practically beaming with pride as she talks about the pack’s growth and how many new investments he’s gotten. It’s clear she admires him. “No one who meets Karl could ever forget him,” she says. “I’ve even seen lots of women cry.” The reporter asks her if she thinks Karl attracts a lot of women, and the secretary nods. “I’m well aware of his charms.” She grins. “Women pester him constantly, and it’s my job to help him handle that.” “What about you?” the reporter jokes. She flashes a confidential smile in response. Beside me, Chloe rolls her eyes, leaning away from the screen. Leah looks revolted, and I imagine I have a similar expression on my face. What a narcissist. “Geez,” Leah says, putting her phone away. “We’re going to find you someone a thousand times better than Karl.” I nod. I’ve been meaning to go on a date, but I just haven’t made the time. If I keep this up for too long, though, my estrogen levels are going to plummet. “Here,” she says, “I’m going to send you some contact information. We’re going to find you a hot guy who isn’t a controlling narcissist.” Chloe claps her hands together. “Now, won’t this be fun,” she says. There’s nothing they love more than trying to set me up with someone. They’re determined to find me someone new, so I can officially leave Karl in the past. I pull out my phone, and my eyebrows go up. Leah sent me the information of… 17 hot guys ?! Well, at least I’ll have options.

Abby “I know there’s a lot to choose from,” Leah says innocently. “So, just pick the ones you want to sleep with the most.” I give her a look, but she just plasters on that innocent smile and waits for me to look at my phone. Beside me, Chloe leans in slightly, trying to get a look at the screen. “Fine, this guy,” I say, showing them the one I picked. “There, I have a date,” “Why not meet someone else too, while you’re at it?” Leah says. “Just to save time.” I’m a bit resistant to the idea, but I eventually give in to Leah’s pestering. I message another guy to meet me later in the evening. “You guys need to help me find something to wear,” I say when everything’s been planned. They both agree, and we pay our bill. We walk around the shops until we find one that might have the kind of thing I’m looking for. Chloe and Leah help me pick out a few dresses, and I go in the back to try them on. I decide on a form-fitting black dress. It hugs my curves and cuts down in the front to show a bit of cleavage. It’s flattering on my fuller figure, and I can’t help but admire myself a bit in the mirror. It’s the kind of dress Karl never would have wanted me to wear. Leah grins when I walk out to show them. I do a little twirl, and Chloe claps. “Now that’s a dress!” she exclaims. “You look like a goddess,” Leah adds. I can feel my face warm. “Come on, stop,” I say with a laugh. “Very sexy,” Chloe continues, making me blush even harder. I wave them off and go into the back to change into my regular clothes. I buy the dress and a pair of strappy black heels to match, leaving Chloe and Leah with the promise that I’ll fill them in the minute the dates end. I meet the first guy, Luke, a few hours later. It’s already crowded when I arrive, and it takes me a minute to spot him at the bar. He’s handsome. Even better than his pictures. Usually, the men Leah sets me up with are total duds, but maybe tonight will be different. “You look gorgeous,” he says, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. I smile. “You look pretty good yourself.” We edge slightly away from the crowd, and he leans in to talk to me. He starts telling me about his career, all the while glancing not so discreetly at my breasts. I can’t help but feel a little bored. I always had so much fun when I went out with Karl. He dragged me out onto the dance floor and was constantly making jokes. I never knew what to expect with Karl, but it was always exciting. Luke’s like every guy I’ve been out with recently–more interested in how impressive he is than in what I might have to say. Partway through the conversation, I have to cut him off. “Excuse me,” I say, stopping him mid-sentence as he drones on about his recent account at work. “I just need to run to the ladies.” “Alright, don’t take too long,” he says with a wink. I have to resist the urge to cringe as I cross the bar. I adjust my hair in the bathroom mirror, then slip into one of the open stalls. A minute later, the door opens, and Luke pushes his way into my stall. He slips his hand around me and slides it down my back, grabbing my butt. My instincts kick in and I knee him hard. He goes down with a groan. Too bad for him, the only class I aced in school was Warrior Training. I leave him like that, crumbled over in the stall with a pained look on his face. I’ve been out with a number of handsome guys in the last three years, and I haven’t gone home with any of them. They’re all the same, desperate to get into bed with me rather than get to know me. And even though I try not to, I always find myself comparing them to Karl, and they always fall short. I go back to the bar. For a moment, I have the intense feeling that I’m being watched. I look around, expecting it to be Luke, but I catch sight of him retreating out the front door. The feeling persists, and I look around at the crowd again. No one stands out to me. Not anyone I can see from this vantage point, anyway. The next guy arrives, and he walks over with a wide smile. “Hey, I’m Adam,” he says, his voice deep and gritty in a way that makes me perk up a little. I force myself to forget the presence I feel. He’s handsome too, and more my type. He has curly brown hair and deep blue eyes. He’s not as tall as the last guy, but still a few inches taller than me. I wait while he buys us both drinks, then we edge over to a table in the corner to talk. “So, what are your hobbies?” he asks, inching closer. I can feel the heavy weight of someone’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn around. “Please don’t laugh,” I say, “but it’s actually cooking.” I wait for his response, biting my lip. “I like to cook and share it with my friends,” I add. I can’t help but think about Karl and how he liked smart women, not women who can cook. Maybe Adam’s the same. The service industry is the lowest of the low in the eyes of many. He looks a little surprised and I squirm a bit. “Can I try your cooking sometime?” he asks, catching me off guard. “I’m an investor in the food business.” “Sure,” I say. “You should come by my restaurant sometime.” I tell him which one it is, and he makes a note of it on his phone. “I can’t wait.” He orders us both more drinks, and I smile. I can be quick to judge, but I’m trying to be better. It’s not fair to compare everyone to my ex, and Adam seems different from the other guys. So far, he hasn’t leered at my breasts, or tried to grope me in the bathroom. I open my mouth to ask him about his hobbies when I feel Adam’s sudden burst of intimidation. A broad figure shoves between us, cutting Adam off from me. I look up at him and take a half-step back. Karl glares down at me, his jaw tense. Clearly, his was the looming presence I felt. I should have known. Behind him, Adam edges away with a nervous look on his face. He doesn’t leave, though, which I’m grateful for. “Excuse me–” I start. “I’ve been here for hours,” he says, cutting me off. “You’ve been dating several men in a row.” His gaze rakes down my body and I grit my teeth. “And wearing such revealing clothes? When exactly did you become like this?” “What?！” I exclaim angrily.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397396”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Werewolf #Divorce #LoveAfterLoss #regret #DaretoLove

Mable Short, the woman my fiancé cherished, and I both fell from the building at the exact same moment. My fiancé, being a doctor, rushed to save Mable first, leaving me, drenched in my own blood, to await the ambulance’s arrival. In my dying moments, I implored him not to abandon me. Frank Cullen, my fiancé, however, brusquely kicked my hand away. “Gianna! Can’t you be a bit more compassionate? Don’t you see Mable is unconscious? I’ll deal with you later for pushing her down the stairs!” But Frank never got the chance. As he turned to carry Mable away, I perished alongside the baby in my womb. My death was agonizing. I suffered from numerous fractures, with several ribs piercing my uterus, leading to a rupture and severe hemorrhaging. As I died, my blood saturated the bed. The scene was so gruesome that even the medical staff reacted in horror. Perhaps my soul lingered because my death was so unwilling. I gazed at my body in disbelief until a familiar voice caught my attention, and I followed it with curiosity. Indeed, it was Frank. In the emergency room, he hastily donned surgical garb, reassuring his lover. “Mable, hold on. I’ll operate on you now!” He then turned his attention to her surgery. His expression was more solemn than I had ever witnessed before. Only after the operation did he exhale in relief. Seeing Mable’s vital signs stabilize, Frank summoned his assistant, Max Harrison, to transfer her to a general ward for observation. Max paused, with a flicker of indecision crossing his face, which sparked Frank’s curiosity. “What is it?” Max answered, “Dr. Cullen, do you know the woman who was brought in right after Ms. Short? Just now…” Max was about to inform Frank of my demise. However, Frank swiftly cut him off and sternly explained, “I don’t know that woman, nor do I wish to know her condition.” Max nodded slightly. Hearing this, I felt a chill running through me. Frank despised me so vehemently, so how could he acknowledge me as his fiancée to outsiders? Yet, he remained unaware that I lay dead, just a wall away in another ward. I recalled how, before the accident, I had clung to his trouser leg with all my might. “Save me. I’m truly dying. “Don’t leave me. Please save me…” No one could remain indifferent to the sight of the vast pool of blood beneath me. Yet, my beloved fiancé gazed down at me with a look of disgust. “Gianna, can’t you show a shred of kindness? Can’t you see Mable is unconscious? “Isn’t it enough that you pushed her down the stairs? Now, you’re trying to stop me from saving her? Do you want her life that badly? “Gianna, I never expected you to be so malicious!” I released my grip on Frank, my bloodstained hands fumbling in my pocket for the pregnancy test report. I yearned to tell him about the baby and plead for our child’s sake that he save me. Yet, he didn’t grant me a single glance. He spoke harshly, “I’ll deal with you when I get back!” Ignoring my blood-soaked form, he lifted the unconscious Mable and turned away. By the time I retrieved the pregnancy test report, they had vanished from my sight. Tears splashed onto the report as I stared at the evidence of the small life that had begun to form inside me. I murmured, “I’m sorry, baby. Your dad doesn’t care for me, so he won’t save me, let alone you.” Upon confirming my death, the doctor reached out to my sole relative, Henry Wells, my father. When he arrived, all he found was a lifeless body. He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, grappling with the incomprehensible reality that I was gone in an instant. Assisted to his feet by a nurse, he suppressed his grief and tried to contact Frank. But his calls, more than ten, were all met with disconnection.

Eventually, his calls ceased to go through. Unable to endure the disturbance, Frank blacklisted Henry. After that, Frank made his way to the hospital ward and gently took the hand of Mable, who had just awakened from her coma. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You have no idea how worried I was…” Mable’s complexion was ghostly white, betraying her frail health. Only I knew the truth that she had fallen down the stairs on purpose. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Frank, when I fell, I thought I was going to die. “Thankfully, you brought me here in time for surgery. Without you, I don’t know what would have happened.” As she spoke, she sniffled, fixing her gaze lovingly on Frank. “Frank, from now on, my life is yours.” Frank’s eyes softened at her words. He silently withdrew a pure gold bracelet from his pocket, fastening it around her wrist. “I got you a gift. I hope it brightens your spirits. “Staying positive will help you recover faster.” The bracelet was exquisitely crafted, the very one I had coveted the most. I had pleaded with him to gift it to me on my birthday, but he had refused. Yet, now, he had bought it and placed it on Mable’s wrist. Mable caressed the bracelet and wore a radiant smile. “Frank, you’re so good to me.” Her expression then clouded over. “But what about Gianna? Won’t she mind you being so sweet to me?” At the mention of my name, Frank’s face blanched. “Don’t bring up that woman! If she hadn’t pushed you down the stairs, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!” He clasped Mable’s hand firmly and sternly vowed, “Don’t you worry. I’ll make things right for you when I’m back. I promise!” He recalled that I had been taken to the same hospital by ambulance. He was burning with the desire to avenge Mable, so he was headed straight for me. Just as he stepped out of her ward, a stretcher carrying a body rolled past him. I knew that the body on the stretcher was mine, even though it was shrouded in a stark white sheet. My hand, adorned with the engagement ring, hung loosely. This was the ring Frank had bought me when he proposed eight years ago, and I had never once removed it. I couldn’t believe Frank wouldn’t recognize that ring. My soul hovered around Frank, repeatedly urging, “Frank, the body on the stretcher is me!” I yearned for Frank to acknowledge me. I wanted to see if, upon realizing it was his misjudgment that had led to the demise of me and our child, he would be so devastated he’d break down, or if he’d remain indifferent, deeming it insignificant. “Make way.” The staff urged Frank aside as they maneuvered the stretcher through. Frank frowned, his gaze flicking to my dangling hand. Then, he stepped back impatiently, allowing the stretcher to pass without incident. In the end, he failed to recognize me as his fiancée. Our eight years together now felt like a cruel joke. After the stretcher conveyed my body to the morgue, Frank approached the ward where I had been. “Where is Gianna Wells, who was brought here?” Frank inquired of the nurse upon entering. The nurse, recognizing Frank, responded swiftly, “Dr. Cullen, are you acquainted with Gianna Wells? Unfortunately, she succumbed to her grave injuries. There was nothing we could do. “Her father fainted from grief. We need to contact those close to her to handle the formalities. “It would be wonderful if you were a friend of her. Could you accompany me now…” Frank cut the nurse off, his anger flaring. “Isn’t Gianna taking things too far? She actually got people to act with her? “She’s really milking this victim role, huh? Just like Mable, she fell from a building, but Mable’s okay, right?” I had anticipated that Frank wouldn’t believe the nurse. Mable was still in one piece because Frank, the chief physician, had stepped in with his scalpel just in the nick of time. As for me, my injuries were too severe; I could only await my doom. Seeing Frank’s terrifyingly grim expression, the nurse didn’t dare say more and could only shake her head as she left. Unable to find me, Frank had no choice but to return to Mable. Mable, having learned of my possible demise, coaxed Frank, “Why don’t you go check on Gianna? What if something really happened?” Despite being the one who pushed me down the stairs, Mable twisted the truth. “I don’t think Gianna meant to push me. It must have been an accident. “If she fell, she would definitely get hurt. “You’re her fiancé, after all. You should go take a look, right?” Frank’s eyes brimmed with a tender warmth. “Mable, you’re so kind.” But his gentle expression suddenly hardened. “I know Gianna. She’s always been jealous of you, misunderstanding our relationship. “I wanted to take you to the hospital, but she tried to stop me! She’s so vicious that she must have pushed you on purpose.” Mable feigned concern. “It’s okay. I don’t blame her. I’m just worried she might be hurt…” “Impossible!” Frank declared firmly. “She loves using this trick to deceive me. She even claimed she had pneumonia when she wasn’t sick. I almost had to rush back from abroad! “She just likes to play the victim. The person I trust least is Gianna!” I tried to speak, but no sound emerged. My health had indeed not been great, and Frank was aware of this. But to spare him any added weight, especially when his career was at such a pivotal juncture, I would slip away to the hospital alone, in silence, never breathing a word of it. Sometimes, before fully recovering, I appeared a bit frail. Frank chuckled at me. “What’s this? Trying to trick me into staying by playing the pity card again?” I matched his playful tone. “Yeah, that’s right.” But even as I put on a brave face, Mable would find reasons to call Frank, feigning some ailment or another, insisting he should come to check on her. Frank was unwittingly under the thumb of the seemingly frail Mable. When I first discovered these calls, I was livid. I confronted Mable, intending to demand her true intentions face-to-face. However, before I could get a few words out, Mable burst into tears. I left, utterly bewildered by the situation. Not long after, Frank angrily confronted me. “Why did you try to irk Mable? She’s not well. As her neighbor and someone who’s practically watched her grow up, what’s wrong with me accompanying her to the hospital?” He showed me a photo on his phone. “Are you a shrew? Can’t you just talk to her nicely? Why resort to violence?” I stared at the photo in shock. There was a distinct slap mark on Mable’s face. But I hadn’t laid a finger on her! I had no defense.

Frank refused to believe me. He pointed at me and harshly warned me. “Our issues are between us. Don’t you dare bother innocent people!” I wished I could explain that I had never made things difficult for Mable. Instead, it was the seemingly innocent Mable who had mercilessly reached out and caused my downfall. I watched as they exchanged affectionate glances and embraced. Mable remained in the hospital for days under Frank’s attentive care. On the day of her discharge, Frank handled everything. After he brought Mable home, she clung to him, reluctant to let go. “Frank, I don’t want to worry my parents. “But I’m so clumsy that I can barely look after myself. Could you stay? Keep me company?” Frank reveled in her dependence. He embraced her and gently comforted her. “It’s alright. I’ll take some more time off and stay to take care of you properly.” The pain in my heart was indescribable. I never anticipated that the man I once hesitated to bother would offer himself so freely to another woman. Their tender embrace was shattered by the insistent ringing of the phone. Seeing an unfamiliar local number, Frank answered, puzzled. From the other end, Henry’s voice boomed. “You heartless bastard! How dare you do this to my daughter? You made her die with regrets!” Frank’s face shifted instantly. “Aren’t you bored? Are you in cahoots with Gianna, trying to deceive me again? “Is pretending to be sick not enough now? Has she upgraded to faking death? “Tell Gianna I won’t believe her! Even if something did happen to her, she had it coming!” Henry was incensed by Frank’s words. “You killed my daughter! You and that woman deserve to die!” Perhaps blinded by fury, Henry’s words tumbled out, somewhat jumbled and incoherent. After listening for a moment, Frank frowned and hung up. Mable approached, with curiosity in her eyes. “Who was that?” Frank shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s Gianna’s father, playing along with her act. “How could there be such a father? Willing to curse his own daughter, saying she’s dead.” Frank wore a bemused expression. “The Wells family will stop at nothing to marry me off.” Mable’s gaze dimmed. “So, are you still planning to marry Gianna?” Frank knitted his brows deeply, betraying his conflicting emotions. “We’re officially engaged, and my parents adore her. Breaking it off could get messy.” As he spoke, Frank suddenly sighed. “Actually, apart from the whole picking on you thing and the endless squabbles and cold wars over you, she’s not half bad in other respects.” Frank was right. I was with him for eight long years, engaged for six months. Beyond the constant anger and upset directed at Mable and Frank, I could be described as unconditionally tolerant of Frank. I understood his work kept him busy, so even when neglected, I’d suppress my frustration and remain his steadfast support. When his parents fell ill, I was the one who spared no expense or effort in caring for them. Yet, I feared Frank’s current indecision wasn’t born out of love for me. I worried he simply saw me as a suitable match for marriage. As Frank spoke of this, Mable’s expression grew increasingly sour. Just as she was about to press Frank for answers, he received a call from his father, John Cullen. “Frank, you’re absolutely ridiculous! How could I have fathered a son like you!” John berated Frank. “Gianna has suffered a tremendous tragedy, and you’re just going to ignore it?” Frank was momentarily stunned before offering a nonchalant smile. “Dad, don’t let Gianna pull the wool over my eyes with you,” he implored. John was so furious he was rendered speechless. “Who would risk someone’s life just to cause a scene? “Don’t you realize Gianna is dead? Your wife-to-be, Gianna, is gone!”

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