Category: English

My older brother returned from his business trip in Paris with two shopping bags. One held an Hermès Birkin in classic gold togo leather. The other, a Chanel classic flap in black caviar. He went to my sister’s bedroom first. By the time he made it down the hall to my room, both shopping bags were gone. All that was left in his hands was a box of hazelnut chocolates you could buy at any corner drugstore. I wanted to tell my fiancé, Colin, about it. I needed to vent. But when I tracked his location to the boutiques on Fifth Avenue and walked in, I found him leaning against the glass display counters, agonizing over two necklaces. One was a Bulgari Divas’ Dream pendant. The other was a B.zero1 ceramic ring studded with diamonds. Which one should I give to your sister? He looked genuinely torn. My chest caved in. But I didn’t dare go home to cry. Instead, I hid in a quiet, marble-tiled alcove near the mall’s fitting rooms, pulling out my phone. I opened my messages and began typing through blurred vision to a guy I’d met in an online lobby six months ago. [My brother called me greedy, but I didn’t even ask for a bag. Am I really that greedy?] [Colin is supposed to be my fiancé, but he’s buying high jewelry for my sister. Am I just being petty?] The messages delivered. A moment later, a voice note popped up on my screen. “Why don’t you just be with me?” “However many bags, however many diamonds you want—I’ll give them all to you.” “I’d only ever give them to you. And I promise, no one would ever call you greedy or petty again.” 1 I froze. The sheer shock of it literally stopped my tears. For half a year, I had been chatting with this person whose screen name was simply “Gold,” their profile picture a blank white square. We had met through a co-op video game, and this was far from the first time I had cried to them. But usually, Gold only ever typed back, offering patient, quiet comfort. I had always assumed Gold was a gentle, soft-spoken girl. That was why I felt so safe pouring my heart out. But the voice that just played from my phone was undeniably male. It was a deep, unhurried baritone. Smooth and dangerously tender. A second voice note appeared. I pressed play. “More than that. If you were ever in danger, I’d save you. Only you. I can promise you that much,” the man’s voice murmured, a quiet gravity grounding every word. “Think about it.” I listened to it again. A sharp ache flared at the bridge of my nose. The tears I thought I had stopped suddenly spilled over my lashes, hot and heavy. 2 It wasn’t that I loved to cry. It was just that, most of the time, I didn’t know how to swallow the pain. When I was five, my parents divorced. To better care for my chronically ill older sister, Bella, my mother took her across the country to live in Los Angeles. My brother, Jon, and I were left in New York with my father. Three years ago, my father died in a multi-car pileup. Last year, my mother succumbed to breast cancer. But ever since Jon flew to California and brought Bella back to live with us in the New York townhouse, I realized I was no longer allowed to cry in my own home. “Mia, your sister’s heart condition acts up when she’s stressed. Are you trying to make her sick?” “What are you even sulking about? Crying like that—how do you think it makes Bella feel?” That was what Jon always said. After being scolded enough times, I didn’t even dare pull the covers over my head to weep in the dark. When the weight of it became too much, my only option was to flee the house and hide in the white noise of a crowded public space. Colin was the match my father had arranged for me before he passed. Our families moved in the same wealthy circles, and it was a quiet, understood agreement. In the beginning, Colin used to look out for me. When he found out Jon was bringing Bella gifts every single evening and ignoring me completely, he would hold my hand and say, “Why don’t we just get married the second you graduate?” “Once we’re married, whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you, okay?” When Bella took a liking to a wooden sculpture I had carved myself, and Jon screamed at me for refusing to give it to her, Colin had been furious on my behalf. “It’s your art. Why the hell should you have to give it up?” he had told me. “Mia, don’t you dare back down. You hear me?” That was how it was. Until four months ago, when Jon brought home a custom haute couture gown. I happened to be in the hallway when he handed the garment bag to Bella. I had only lingered for a second, my eyes catching on the intricate beadwork. Out of nowhere, Jon snapped. “Mia, have you ever lacked for anything in your entire life? Why do you always have to covet what belongs to your sister?” “Get out! Don’t come back until you figure out what you did wrong!” I sat on the limestone steps of our front porch for the entire night. The next morning, Colin came by to pick me up. Seeing me shivering in the autumn chill, he was immediately sympathetic. “It’s just a dress. How could Jon kick you out over that?” “Mia, are you crazy? Why didn’t you fight back?” But then, the heavy oak door opened, and Jon walked out—with Bella right behind him. Colin’s voice died in his throat. He stared. That was the very first time Colin ever laid eyes on my sister. He turned to me, blinking like a man waking from a dream. “Mia… is this your sister, Bella?” I gave a stiff, numb nod. And just like that, Colin’s tone completely shifted. “Oh. Well, then this is on you, Mia.” “You really should learn to compromise for her.” 3 I caught a terrible fever that day. My body ached so profoundly I had no choice but to hide in my room, quietly wiping away tears while texting “Gold” about how much it hurt. But crying didn’t change reality. Because after that day, the frequency of Colin’s visits to our townhouse suddenly spiked. His family was incredibly wealthy. Whenever he brought me a pastry or a gift, he suddenly started bringing a matching one for Bella. On my birthday, he gave me a pair of diamond studs. He bought a second box for her. He’d say, “Mia, I only get Bella things because she’s your sister. Don’t overthink it.” But last month, Jon took Bella and me up to a luxury cabin retreat in the Catskills. Colin tagged along. The entire drive up, Colin’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, checking on Bella. He asked her if she was cold, if she was hungry, if the winding roads were making her dizzy. He didn’t ask me a single question. Later that evening, everything went to hell. A group of heavily intoxicated locals crashed the resort, starting a brawl and smashing the outdoor patio heaters. Colin immediately shielded Bella with his body. “Don’t look, Bella. I’ve got you,” he kept whispering. Jon didn’t even hesitate. While physically holding back two aggressive drunks, he yelled over his shoulder, “Colin, get Bella to the SUV! Go!” They rushed her to the car. Just as the heavy door slammed shut, one of the drunks lunged, grabbing my arm so hard I felt the bruise blooming instantly. Jon saw it happen. But he put the car in drive anyway. He rolled down the window just enough to shout, “Mia, wait right there! Let me get your sister to safety and I’ll come right back for you!” They never came back. When the men started smashing glass and throwing punches at the staff, a good Samaritan finally called the cops. In the end, it was a police cruiser that drove me home. When the officer dropped me off, the townhouse was completely silent. I was too terrified to go inside. I stood on the sidewalk for a long, long time, texting Gold, letting the digital text ground me. When my breathing finally steadied, I limped my way up the steps and unlocked the door. I braced myself for the chaos. But the house was dead quiet. Bella was sick. The “shock” of the evening had triggered her palpitations. She had taken her medication and was fast asleep in her plush bed. Colin had just left half an hour ago. And Jon was sitting in a velvet chair by her bedside, keeping watch. No one was looking for me. When Jon stepped out into the hallway and saw me standing there, bruised and shivering, his expression barely shifted. “Glad you made it back safe,” he said, keeping his voice to a low whisper. “Keep it down, don’t wake your sister. Go wash up and go to sleep.” The tears I had fought so hard to keep back nearly shattered the dam right then and there. 4 When I went looking for Colin today, it wasn’t actually to complain about Jon not giving me a Chanel bag. I was fine without it. Lately, I had been fine with having nothing at all. But yesterday, Jon had called me into his study. “Mia, the Carmichaels are a powerful family. Colin isn’t the primary heir, but he holds his own in our circle,” Jon had said, swirling a glass of scotch. “You’re still young. There’s no rush for you. But your sister’s health is delicate, and I can tell Colin genuinely cares for her. I think it’s best if you step aside and let Bella take this marriage arrangement.” It wasn’t a discussion. It was an eviction notice from my own future. I went to the mall today to ask Colin a simple question: Was this Jon’s idea, or was it his? But Colin had been distracted from the second I found him. Even while holding the two luxury necklaces, he had asked: “Mia, which one do you think Bella would like more?” Standing under the harsh, brilliant lighting of the jewelry boutique, looking at his conflicted face, I suddenly had my answer. “Why don’t you just buy both?” I told him quietly. “Give them both to her.” And now, sitting in the shadowy corner of the mall, listening to the deep, steady voice of the man on the phone. I wiped the dampness from my cheeks. My heart settled into a strange, terrifying calm. I pressed the microphone button. “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s be together.” 5 By the time I dried my eyes and took an Uber home, dusk had fallen. Colin and Bella were standing on the front porch. The amber glow of the gas lamps stretched their shadows long, blending them into one. I watched from the bottom of the steps as Colin, his face flushed, handed her the velvet Bulgari boxes. What was he saying to her? I was too far away to hear. Then Bella spotted me. Her face lit up with a practiced, radiant smile, and she practically glided down the steps toward me. “Colin, you bought these beautiful necklaces for me, but what about Mia?” she asked, her voice light and teasing. “Did you get anything for Mia?” Her cold, manicured hand reached out and grasped mine. She hadn’t taken the boxes from him yet. She was performing the role of the protective, generous older sister. Colin froze. A beat of awkward silence hung in the air before he awkwardly reached into his tailored coat pocket and pulled out a flimsy, velvet pouch. “Of course. I got something for Mia, too.” Bella’s smile deepened, as if she were genuinely thrilled for me. She took the pouch, pulled out a thin silver chain, and draped it over my wrist, fastening the clasp. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “Isn’t it pretty? It suits Mia so perfectly. Do you love it, Mia?” “No.” A wave of intense, suffocating humiliation crashed over me. This bracelet. Three months ago, for my birthday, Colin had given me the exact same one. He had told me then that he had spent hours picking it out. But today, standing at the jewelry counter, I had seen the truth. It was a promotional gift-with-purchase. The boutique had a whole drawer of them. You got one if you bought a necklace. You got one if you bought a watch. You got one if you bought earrings. The $30,000 diamond bracelet Colin had gifted Bella on my birthday—the one she was currently wearing on her left wrist? That was fine jewelry. The identical promotional freebie now resting against my skin was an afterthought. Bella had to have known. She shopped at these boutiques constantly. Colin definitely knew. 6 I didn’t want the bracelet. I undid the clasp, pulled off the one I was already wearing from my birthday, and threw both of them into Colin’s chest. As I turned and ran up the steps into the house, I heard Bella’s soft, distressed sigh behind me. “I’m so sorry, Colin. Mia didn’t accept your gift. If I take these necklaces now, it’ll just upset her even more…” I wasn’t an idiot. I could hear the subtle, poisoned needle hidden in those words. But I just didn’t understand. If she wanted to play hard to get with Colin, why did she have to use me as the stepping stone? Even though our parents had divorced, whenever I spent my summer vacations in LA when we were little, she had been so sweet to me. When our mother scolded me for being messy, Bella used to hide me in her closet and read me stories. Why had everything changed the second she moved into my house? I slept with my head buried under the duvet that night. When I woke up, my eyes were swollen to the size of walnuts. I was sitting in the kitchen pressing cold spoons against my eyelids when our housekeeper, Martha, came rushing in. “Mia, there are guests here to discuss marriage arrangements. Mrs. Carmichael is here!” “Hurry, go take a look.” Mrs. Carmichael. Colin’s mother? I blinked, confused. Martha was already pulling me up from the stool. Martha knew about the unspoken engagement my father had arranged with the Carmichaels. But she didn’t know Jon was planning to swap Bella in my place. And she certainly didn’t know Colin had already shifted his affections. Sure enough, when I reached the top of the grand staircase and peered into the living room, Mrs. Carmichael was seated on the velvet sofa. But she wasn’t alone. Sitting opposite her was an incredibly elegant, strikingly beautiful woman I had never seen before. Seeing me on the landing, Mrs. Carmichael’s smile turned brittle and strained. “Oh. Mia is home, too.” At her words, the other woman’s eyes lit up. A warm, genuine smile broke across her face. “Are you Mia?” I nodded slowly, my eyes sliding past the two matriarchs to look at Jon. I had never seen my brother look this ecstatic. He was practically vibrating with excitement, though he was trying hard to maintain a veneer of corporate humility. “Well, we are in the twenty-first century now. We don’t believe in arranged marriages in the traditional sense,” Jon was saying, adjusting his cuffs. “An alliance of this magnitude… I really must consult with my sister first.” He turned to Martha. “Go upstairs and bring the eldest Miss Davis down.” The elegant stranger immediately held up a hand, halting him. “The eldest?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “No, no, there’s been a misunderstanding. The girl our family is here to propose to is Mia.” Mrs. Carmichael sat frozen, staring into her teacup, a humiliated flush creeping up her neck. A sharp prick of shock hit my chest. I instinctively looked at Jon. Jon’s triumphant smile faltered. He looked incredibly displeased that Bella wasn’t getting to choose between two elite suitors. He frowned at the elegant woman. “Mrs. Astor, are you absolutely certain you mean… Mia, and not Bella?” Before she could answer, a cold, authoritative voice drifted in from the grand entryway. “We are certain.” I whipped my head around. A man stood in the foyer. Dressed in a sharp black overcoat and tailored trousers, his features were strikingly handsome, his eyes dark and unreadable. “The woman I want,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “is Mia.” 7 Theo Astor. The sole heir to the Astor dynasty. There wasn’t a single person in New York high society who didn’t know his name. His father was the Chairman of Astor Holdings. His mother was old-money New England royalty, a direct descendant of the Vanderbilt line. They were, without question, one of the top three most powerful families on the East Coast. Gold… was him? I stared blankly at the man walking into my living room. He was breathtaking. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—he looked like he had stepped straight out of a Tom Ford campaign. He stopped at the base of the stairs, looked up at me, and offered a soft, private smile. “We meet again, Mia.” The breath finally caught in my lungs. It was him. The voice was exactly the same. I lowered my eyes, my fingers gripping the mahogany banister to hide my trembling. “We meet again…” Theo’s dark gaze flicked to my swollen, red eyelids. For a fraction of a second, his jaw tightened. When he turned to look at my brother, the smile remained on his lips, but the warmth in his voice was completely gone. “Mr. Davis, do you have a problem with my judgment?” Jon offered a sycophantic, nervous laugh. “No, no, of course not.” “Then why did I just hear you question whether Mia was the one I wanted? Did you assume I’m incapable of recognizing the woman I have feelings for?” His tone was sharp, laced with a double meaning that cut through the room like glass. Jon’s laugh turned stiff. He shot me a dark, covert glare—I couldn’t tell if it was a warning or an accusation. “How could I ever assume that?” Jon muttered. Theo dismissed him entirely. He turned his attention back to me, and the ice in his voice melted instantly into something akin to a spring breeze. “So, Mia,” he asked gently. “This arrangement. Do you accept?” It felt like he was holding up the sky for me. Like he was coaxing me out of a dark corner. For some inexplicable reason, an ache rose in my throat. “I—” I wanted to say yes. We had agreed to it last night. But the moment I opened my mouth, a frantic voice interrupted from the top of the stairs. “Is that you? Theo?” It was Bella. She had slipped out of her room and was now standing on the landing above me, staring down at Theo with a mixture of breathless joy and engineered shyness. Theo? Why was she speaking to him so informally? My chest tightened. My fingers gripped the banister harder. Bella had already composed her features into a picture of elegant grace as she descended the stairs, bypassing me entirely. “Five years ago, at the Ivy League debate tournament in Boston. I was the second speaker for the opposition. Do you remember me?” 8 Did Theo remember her? Was he going to be just like Colin? Was he going to see Bella shining in the spotlight and immediately forget I existed? Was he going to be like Jon—the second Bella entered the room, all the gravity shifted to her? I stared at Theo, my stomach tying itself into a sickening knot. But Theo just looked at her. His gaze swept over Bella’s perfectly made-up face without a flicker of recognition. Without missing a beat, he asked in a voice made of absolute frost, “Who are you? And why on earth would I remember you?” Bella’s radiant smile shattered. Seeing her shock, Jon desperately tried to salvage the situation. “Oh, so Bella and Mr. Astor are old acquaintances! Well, looking at it that way, it must be destiny that you two reunited in my home today.” Destiny? But Theo came here for me. It felt like someone had poured battery acid straight into my chest. The sour, burning sting rushed right behind my eyes. Terrified that Jon would notice and reprimand me again, I ducked my head, trying to blink away the blurriness. Then, Theo’s voice sliced through the tension. “Mr. Davis, it was a collegiate debate tournament. By your logic, I’m ‘destined’ to marry half the corporate litigators in Manhattan.” He paused, and I heard his footsteps move closer to the stairs. “Mia.” His voice was back to that soft, steady rhythm. I looked up, straight into eyes that held absolutely no doubt. “You haven’t answered my question yet. Will you marry me?” It was as if a warm gust of wind had swept through the suffocating house, blowing away the dust and leaving nothing but sunlight. In that moment, I didn’t care about Jon’s suddenly furious expression. I didn’t care about Bella, who was standing there pale and trembling on the verge of tears. All I saw was Theo Astor, waiting for me with a patient, reassuring smile. “Yes,” I breathed out. “I will.”

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Chapter 1 1 My best friend and my boyfriend were both individuals with Asperger’s syndrome—and high-IQ geniuses. I, on the other hand, was just their sidekick. At seven years old, while they were discussing high school physics, I was the one packing their backpacks. At seventeen, they were accepted into Ivy League universities early, while they casually picked a local state college nearby for me. At twenty-five, they graduated with their PhDs and became the “golden duo” of a top-tier research institute. I was just the receptionist there. We shared an apartment, where I managed their diets and daily lives, never once able to break into their high-level conversations. Even my own wedding turned into a backdrop for them to debate an experiment. “Ethan, the ceremony is starting,” I said, anxiously pulling his arm to get him to the altar. “What?” “The wedding…” “I wasn’t asking you.” Ethan didn’t even look at me. His eyes were locked onto my best friend, Chloe. “What were those parameters you just mentioned?” Chloe patted my arm, coaxing me in a low voice: “Don’t throw a tantrum, Emma. We’re in the middle of discussing an experiment. Just stall for a bit.” “It’s just a wedding. Worst case, we can host another one some other day.” The two of them immediately dove back into a sea of data I couldn’t understand. Reaching a point of excitement, they completely abandoned me and a room full of guests, hurrying out the door to head back to the lab. On their way out, they even bumped into the champagne tower, sending it crashing to the floor. Leaving me standing there, utterly humiliated. But this time, I didn’t clean up their mess like I usually did. Host another one? I didn’t need to. I was done being the genius’s bride. … At 2:00 AM, the front door unlocked. The two of them pushed the door open, discussing loudly, completely inconsiderate of the fact that they were waking me up. “See, Ethan? I told you we needed to tweak the parameters my way. It clicked perfectly!” Ethan pinched Chloe’s cheek, a little stubborn but clearly amused. “You just got lucky.” When they saw me walk out of the bedroom, Ethan casually tossed his jacket onto the floor. “Emma, do the laundry for us. And make us some ramen. Chloe is hungry.” He didn’t seem to care at all about how today’s wedding had ended. “I’m tired.” I said it coldly. It was my very first time refusing him. Ethan froze. Chloe bumped his shoulder hard and winked dramatically. “Idiot! Your EQ is so low! Can’t you see Emma is throwing a fit?” “You ignored her for our experiment today, and she’s mad!” With that, she pinched Ethan’s chest and laughed. “There, there! I punished him for you. Don’t be mad anymore, bestie!” Ethan hissed in pain and rubbed his temples exhaustedly. “Emma, we’re exhausted enough from the lab. Can you just give us a break?” “It was just a wedding. How could that be more important than our research progress? Honestly, nobody cares about that stuff except the bride.” “Worst case, we’ll just throw a bigger, better one.” I couldn’t even count how many times this had happened. Two years ago, during our graduation trip, I waited for them at an international airport for seven hours. Ethan eventually called to tell me they lost track of time in the lab. A year ago, at our engagement dinner, Chloe claimed there was an “equipment anomaly” and dragged Ethan away, leaving me to handle the guests alone. Over the last six months, I had made four appointments at City Hall for us to get our marriage license, and he stood me up every single time. Every time, Ethan’s excuse was that he couldn’t leave the lab. In their world of scientific research, everything related to me was forever insignificant. “What do you mean, ‘just a wedding’?” Even my question fell on deaf ears. The two of them were already huddled over a stack of documents, arguing again. Everyone envied me for having such a successful fiancé and best friend. But I truly didn’t want to be this invisible, nonexistent shadow anymore. Silently opening my phone, I updated my resume, submitted it online, and bought a one-way ticket to Chicago. 2 Early the next morning, a severe storm rolled in. I hurried downstairs, planning to catch a ride to work in Ethan’s car. Even though I was just a receptionist, we did work at the same institute. Ethan started the car while deep in conversation with Chloe, who was sitting in the passenger seat. I frantically tapped on the window, but he didn’t notice and drove straight off. “Ethan, wait!” I chased after the car for a few steps, slipped on the slick pavement, and fell hard, scraping my elbow. Ethan still didn’t see me. Whenever Chloe was around, he was blind to my existence. I could only hastily wipe away the bloody mud, endure the stinging pain, and run toward the subway station. By the time I reached the institute, I was late. Ethan and Chloe were walking shoulder-to-shoulder when they passed the front desk. Seeing me, the smiles vanished from their faces. Ethan frowned. “Is this how you do your job? Look what time it is.” “Why didn’t you wait for me this morning?” I asked, forcing down my heartbreak. Before Ethan could reply, Chloe chimed in. “It’s not that Ethan didn’t want to wait for you, Emma. If you don’t do research, you wouldn’t understand. Every single second of our experiments is crucial. We really can’t waste time waiting.” She patted my shoulder, speaking in a low, coaxing tone. Ethan sighed heavily. He looked at me with exasperation, like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “You knew it was storming. Why couldn’t you leave the house earlier?” “Ever since we were in school, I’ve told you to be more disciplined. Why do you never listen?” “I don’t expect you to achieve greatness like Chloe, but can’t you even do a basic receptionist job properly?” But I clearly remembered all the times Chloe forgot her bag. He was always so patient with her. He would laugh and tease her, calling her a “genius in the lab, but a lovable klutz in life.” In that moment, I suddenly felt too tired to even argue. The next second, Ethan abruptly took a step back, turning his head to pretend he didn’t know me at all. Someone was approaching. Ethan had told me the institute forbade office romances, so we had to strictly avoid suspicion. The passing colleagues stopped to tease him and Chloe: “Oh, Dr. Brooks, Dr. Bennett! If it isn’t the institute’s golden duo!” “Did the lovely couple come to work together again today?” I kept my head down numbly. I was used to this. At the institute, Ethan and Chloe were the perfect match. Childhood sweethearts, twin geniuses, dual PhDs, rising stars. Until someone gasped: “Who says Ethan doesn’t know how to spoil a girl? Isn’t that bag the new season’s limited edition? That’s so expensive and hard to get!” I stole a quiet glance and froze. Chloe’s bag was indeed beautiful. I had mentioned that exact bag to Ethan before. He had gone online and bought me a cheap, unbranded knockoff instead. He told me he was too busy and couldn’t tell the difference. But now, the authentic, limited-edition color was slung over Chloe’s shoulder. “Hey, you, the receptionist. Can’t you see Dr. Bennett and Dr. Brooks are discussing work here?” “Pour them some tea. You have zero situational awareness.” I quickly snapped back to reality, suppressing the sour ache in my chest. I nodded apologetically and hurried over to pour the tea. Suddenly, getting overly excited about their conversation, Chloe threw her hands up. The scalding hot tea spilled everywhere. It ran straight down my sleeve and soaked my shirt. The pain made the blood drain from my face. Ethan shoved me aside and carefully grabbed Chloe’s hands. “Chloe! Are you okay?!” After making sure Chloe wasn’t burned, he frantically checked the data sheets on the table, inspecting them meticulously. Only then did he finally look at me, his voice dark with anger. “You can’t even pour a cup of tea properly? Do you have any idea how important her hands are for our experiments?!” “Alright, Ethan, do you care more about me or the experiment?” Chloe feigned annoyance. Then, she finally noticed me clutching my arm, which was now a massive, blistering red patch. She let out a gasp. “Ethan, Emma got burned really badly! Go get the burn ointment, hurry!” Only then did Ethan frown and pull my arm over to inspect it. Seeing no one else around, he blew on it gently and lowered his voice. “Does it hurt? Wait here. I’ll go get the medicine.” But I waited until the end of my shift, and the burn ointment never came. Because Ethan had turned right around, taken Chloe into the lab, and completely forgotten about a trivial matter like me. 3 Soaked from the storm and suffering a severe burn, I developed a high fever that afternoon. Perhaps seeing that I looked genuinely terrible, Ethan broke his own rules, ended his work early, and drove me home. Tonight, I planned to officially tell him the wedding was off, and that I was leaving. My head was splitting as I lay delirious against the window. Halfway home, Chloe, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly gasped in excitement. “Ethan, change routes! Professor Davis is giving a seminar at MIT tonight! We have to go! It’s exactly the direction we’re researching!” Ethan’s dark eyes instantly lit up. “An opportunity like this is incredibly rare. We can’t miss it.” “But… Emma isn’t feeling well. Shouldn’t we take her home first?” Ethan hesitated for a few seconds, checking his watch. “No. The storm is causing massive traffic jams. We won’t make it in time.” “Emma, get out. Take a cab home yourself. Don’t worry, we’ll be home to take care of you as soon as it’s over.” I barely had time to plant my feet on the pavement. The black Audi sped off impatiently into the rain. Burning up with a fever, I nearly passed out on the side of the road. It took me two hours to get home, drenched like a drowned rat. The dishes from the weekend were still piled up in the sink. The two grand scientists’ time was far too precious. If I didn’t do the chores, no one did. Once, I asked Chloe to help me hang the laundry. Ethan had started a massive screaming match with me over it. Forget it. I’m moving out anyway, I thought. I forced myself to ignore the filthy apartment and collapsed exhaustedly onto the sofa. Coincidentally, the algorithm on my phone recommended the live stream of the exact seminar Ethan and Chloe had gone to attend. It sounded like alien code to me; I couldn’t understand a single word. Until the Q&A session. Ethan took Chloe’s hand, and they walked up to the microphone together to ask a question. Brilliant and beautiful. The audience erupted into cheers and applause. The host tactfully smiled and asked, “Are you two doctors a couple?” Chloe answered with a hint of pride: “Yes! We’ve been classmates since kindergarten, and now we even share the same research field.” The college students in the crowd playfully cheered: “You guys are so lucky! You must have so much in common to talk about!” Chloe smiled warmly, nodding. “Absolutely! If you’re looking for a partner, make sure you find someone walking the exact same path as you!” Ethan, who rarely spoke in public settings, actually chimed in: “I agree with her. Don’t weigh yourself down with a burden on your life’s path.” A burden? I let out a bitter laugh. Because of their neurodivergence, they had severe deficits in self-care. In elementary school, they couldn’t tie their shoes. I was the one who crouched down to tie them. In middle school, they couldn’t read a map or take the bus. I was the one holding their hands to guide them. Even in college, I went over regularly to clean their dorms, and I nursed them when they were sick. For my boyfriend and my best friend, I had practically forfeited my own life. That day, the institute’s “golden duo” went viral on social media. From kindergarten to their PhDs, Ethan and Chloe’s intertwined history was laid bare for the world to see. Their names were always listed side-by-side on honor rolls. They always stood shoulder-to-shoulder during speeches. They tied for top valedictorian in the state, scoring the exact same points in every subject. Even in their academic papers, they constantly referenced and debated each other. They had become the literal definition of soulmates. No one noticed that in the corner of every single group photo, there was a tiny, blurry me. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to stop scrolling. Ethan and Chloe, who promised to come home early to take care of me, didn’t return all night. The next morning, I drafted my resignation letter and arrived at the institute right on time. I immediately noticed the atmosphere around me was bizarre. “She’s not even that pretty for a receptionist, yet she’s delusional enough to think she can be a homewrecker.” “She’s so manipulative. Yesterday, she followed Dr. Brooks to the parking lot and forced her way into his car.” “But guess what? I saw her get kicked out halfway down the street! Karma!” I checked the company group chats and realized someone had recorded a video of me trying to catch a ride with Ethan the day before. In the video, his expression was ice-cold, all his attention focused entirely on Chloe. It really did make me look like a desperate homewrecker throwing herself at him. Just as I was about to publicly clarify our relationship, Ethan beat me to it, sending a message to the entire group chat. “Emma is just our roommate, and she is Chloe’s best friend.” The moment he sent that, the looks of absolute disgust directed at me only multiplied. “Have you no shame? Trying to steal your own best friend’s man?” My whole body went cold. I couldn’t help but march up to Ethan and confront him: “Why didn’t you tell them I’m your girlfriend of several years?! What do you mean ‘just a roommate’?!” Ethan closed his eyes, his voice frigid. “What did you want me to say? Everyone here already assumes Chloe and I are together!” “If I deny it, what will they think of Chloe? Do you have any idea how many vicious rumors would start?” “From now on, we need to keep our distance and avoid suspicion.” “Once we host the makeup wedding and invite the colleagues, the truth will naturally come out.” So he did understand the destructive power of rumors. So he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the world outside of his research. He was perfectly capable of being considerate of others’ feelings—it was just that the person he considered had never been me. It didn’t matter anymore. Because there was never going to be a second wedding. 4 My final shift at the institute was an evening shift. Just before it was time to clock out, the blaring sound of the building’s fire alarm shattered the silence. Followed immediately by thick, choking smoke. Fire! The blaze was spreading incredibly fast from the second-floor laboratories. Within seconds, the dense smoke made it impossible to see or breathe. Flames rapidly swallowed the first floor, searing my arm. I don’t know how much time passed, but I saw someone charge through the smoke holding a fire extinguisher. It was Ethan. “Ethan, I’m here…” Overwhelming pain and primal terror consumed me. Using the very last ounce of my strength, I grabbed the hem of his jacket, like a drowning woman clutching a piece of driftwood. But he didn’t even look down. “Chloe! Where are you?!” In the final seconds before I lost consciousness… I heard him screaming Chloe’s name with a raw, desperate hoarseness. … I woke up in the hospital. The burn wounds on my neck and arms throbbed with a searing, agonizing pain. Every slight movement pulled at my nerves. “It hurts…” Seeing Ethan standing by my bed, my chest felt like it was being crushed by a giant fist. The helplessness of being abandoned yet again, the agony of nearly burning to death… my tears began to fall uncontrollably. “Why didn’t you see me again?” I heard my own voice, ragged and raspy, carrying a pathetic sliver of desperate attachment. But I didn’t get an answer. What I got was Ethan, his eyes bloodshot with rage, violently smashing a glass cup against the wall near my head. “What the hell are you crying for?!” “Because of your negligence, Chloe got hurt! Our experimental data is gone! The life’s work of our entire team is reduced to ashes!” I flinched violently from the pain, my ears ringing from the crash. But Ethan had already lost all reason. He screamed at me: “Why can’t you ever do anything right?! You’re completely useless! You can’t even be a receptionist properly!” “Why do you always have to be such a burden?!” “Why didn’t you do your final security patrol last night?!” “The fire started in Lab 02 on the second floor. That’s a restricted area. It wasn’t my assigned zone. Someone inside the lab mishandled the equipment and caused—” Facing the condemning glares of my colleagues who had gathered in the room, I fought through the agony to explain. But my words only enraged Ethan further. Completely ignoring how weak I was after barely surviving a fire, he grabbed me by the collar of my hospital gown. “What are you saying?! Are you trying to frame Chloe?!” “Look at her! She’s your best friend!” “Because of your screw-up, she got hurt, she lost her data, and now you have the nerve to slander her? Do you have no conscience?!” Chloe stood behind him, head bowed, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t say a word. I heard the other colleagues whispering loudly: “Exactly, what does this have to do with Dr. Bennett? Emma is so quick to pass the buck. Nighttime security checks were literally her only job.” “I am not framing anyone.” “Ethan, you will see the evidence.” I wiped my tears away, forcing myself to remain calm. “The investigation team will provide a full report on the exact cause of the fire.” “Nurse, I would like these people to leave my room.” I used all my remaining strength to say it. In that moment, the heart that had hurt for so long finally, completely flatlined. All the memories, all the bonds the three of us once shared. It felt as if they had all burned to ash in that fire. Seven days later, I was discharged. This time, the apartment was an absolute disaster zone. There was barely a place to step. I quickly packed my luggage and boarded a flight to Chicago. Just as I settled into my new place, I received a message from the investigation team. “Ms. Emma, here is a portion of the security footage and the official fire cause report.” Watching the footage, I froze, my pupils contracting slightly. Chloe, Ethan… I think you’re going to have to say goodbye to the institute.

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Word on the street was that the boss’s pet project—his precious little mistress—was suffering from a severe case of main-character syndrome and had just been parachuted into the office as his personal assistant. I cut my vacation short immediately, booked the first flight back, and tucked myself into a corner of the office just to watch the trainwreck unfold. First, she managed to kill Charles’s five-thousand-dollar imported Japanese bonsai by watering it with boiling water. Her reasoning? She was deeply concerned that cold water would shock its root chakra. Then, at the quarterly investor summit, she actually served organic apple juice boxes and graham crackers. She claimed the corporate world was far too toxic and she wanted to help everyone heal their inner child. I was thoroughly enjoying the show until she decided to kick open my office door. She started throwing files, sweeping things off my desk in a manic frenzy. I rushed forward to stop her. “Stop it! Those are multi-million dollar active contracts! Don’t touch them!” She stopped, looking me up and down with sneering eyes. “Hmph. So you’re Charles’s wife. The one hogging the best office in the building!” I froze, completely thrown off. Before I could even correct her, she went completely off the rails. “You horrible woman! Why can’t you just let him go? Why won’t you divorce him and let us be happy?” “Don’t you know that the one who isn’t loved is the real intruder here?” My jaw hit the floor. His wife? Did she honestly think I had the corner office because of some marital claim? Was it even remotely possible for her to grasp that I had this office because I was the company’s undisputed top earner? The golden goose whose good moods literally dictated our profit margins? … My silence only fueled Misty’s confidence. She assumed she had struck a raw, unloved nerve. She put her hands on her hips, practically vibrating with triumph. “You’re so old. Why can’t you be mature like me? This is a business, and business is about efficiency. Yet you use your marriage to Charles to steal the best workspace. Aren’t you embarrassed?” A laugh bubbled up in my throat. She made it sound like I had clawed my way into this office, begging for scraps. In reality, Charles had practically begged me on his knees to move in here. He had discovered, with an almost religious superstition, that whenever I was happy, our sales numbers skyrocketed. I told him it was just a statistical anomaly, but he refused to listen. When the company grew and went public, he insisted on stacking every high-stakes contract right here in my office, hoping they’d soak up my good luck. I looked at this girl, whose brain seemed to have stopped developing somewhere in middle school, and tried to find the patience to explain. But she stepped closer, shoving a manicured finger hard against my forehead. “You don’t even have a college degree, yet you’re taking up space here! Do you have any idea how many qualified, hard-working people you’re robbing of a livelihood? You’re malicious!” She looked so deeply pained, as if she were a crusader for social justice. I stared at her, then actually let out a dry laugh. Word around the office was that Misty had dropped out of high school and bought her associate’s degree from some unaccredited online mill. “Misty, let’s talk about nepotism and taking up space. Our entry-level requirement is a Master’s degree. What exactly are your credentials?” Her face flushed a violent crimson. She pouted, her lower lip trembling. “I’m different. I’m his baby. Charles said I’m allowed to grow at my own pace.” I couldn’t help it. I snorted. But the sound triggered something in her. Her eyes welled with tears. “I have a pure heart! You horrible woman, how dare you mock me! I’m going to help Charles get rid of you!” Before the words had even fully left her mouth, she lunged at my desk, grabbing a thick stack of finalized contracts and ripping them in half. “Hey! Stop!” I scrambled to grab them. Anything kept in my office was irreplaceable. “Put those down!” I yelled, panic sharpening my voice. “Those are worth millions of dollars! You can’t afford to pay for this!” She startled, freezing at my tone. I seized the moment, pushing past her to snatch the torn pages, trying desperately to smooth out the creases. But then, a sudden, heavy force slammed into my shoulder. She had shoved me. Hard. I lost my balance, stumbling backward. My head collided violently with the sharp edge of the mahogany desk. A white-hot flash of pain shot through my skull. When I put my hand to my forehead, it came away slick with bright, hot blood. “Are you out of your mind?!” I screamed. She blinked, stunned by the blood, but then her face contorted. Her lower lip quivered, and giant tears spilled over. “You yelled at me!” She wailed, a shrill, piercing sound, as if she were the victim of a brutal assault. I sat there on the floor, holding my bleeding forehead, utterly speechless. She was the one crying? The noise quickly drew a crowd. Shadowy figures gathered at the glass doors. Then, a massive frame pushed through the onlookers. “What the hell is going on in here?” I looked up, hoping a colleague had finally come to help me. Instead, I saw a hulking, muscle-bound man whose cheap suit looked like it was begging for mercy against his bulging chest. He glared down at me with pure hostility. “Who are you?” I muttered, my head spinning. Before I could make sense of it, Misty launched herself across the room, burying her face into his chest. “Jax!” Jax? I blinked. Great. It wasn’t just one parasite; she’d brought her whole family onto the payroll. Misty sobbed hysterically into his shirt. “Jax, this awful woman hit me!” Excuse me? I stared at them, my head throbbing, blood dripping down my cheek. Who hit whom? Jax hovered over her, frantically inspecting her hands. “What did she do? Why is your hand red?” Her hand was barely pink—probably from the force of shoving me. Misty pointed a trembling finger at me. “It was her… this old hag. I just asked her to leave the office, and she attacked me! Jax, she humiliated me. I don’t want to live anymore!” Her wailing intensified. The sheer drama of it made my head hurt worse than the actual wound. Jax turned his gaze back to me, his jaw clenched. “So you’re the bitter old hag who refuses to sign the divorce papers.” I raised an eyebrow. Bitter old hag? Divorce papers? Charles certainly had a lot of skeletons in his closet. And why did everyone think I was his wife? Outside, the whispers from the hallway grew louder. “Who is that? She actually dared to cross the boss’s girl?” “I think it’s his wife. She barely ever comes to the office.” “Oh, right. I heard their marriage has been dead for years, but she refuses to sign the papers. Poor Misty has to live in the shadows. Honestly, Misty is basically the lady of the house anyway.” Even in my pain, my inner gossip-monger was fascinated. We had this much drama in the company? Why did I know none of this? And why didn’t these people recognize me? Ah. Because I hated being tied down. Charles had quickly realized that forcing me to clock in from nine-to-five destroyed my mood, which in turn tanked our quarterly earnings. So, he had arranged for me to work fully remote, traveling under the guise of “market research.” I spent my time traveling on the company dime, eating well, and coincidentally signing massive contracts along the way. Most of the newer hires had never actually seen my face. To them, I was just the mythical, stubborn wife. I took a breath, trying to clear my head. “This is a misunderstanding…” Misty wiped her eyes, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re a bad woman. You stole this office, and you stole Charles! Jax, destroy everything in here! Destroy it!” Destroy? I looked at the folders scattered across the floor. If these bid documents and contracts were destroyed, several multi-billion-dollar projects would fall through, and the company would go under. “Stop this nonsense!” I barked. Misty flinched, shrinking behind her brother. “Jax, she’s screaming at me again!” Jax stepped forward, his arm swinging in a wide, vicious arc. The slap landed across my face with a sickening crack. “You bitch! Who gave you permission to speak to my sister like that?” My vision went blurry. My cheek burned, swelling instantly. I sat there, entirely stunned. Me. Gloria. Five-time consecutive sales champion. The woman Charles treated like a fragile porcelain doll because my happiness literally funded his lifestyle. The last time I went through a breakup, a sudden storm had damaged our warehouse, and Charles had personally driven me to a lounge to buy me drinks just to cheer me up—which miraculously led to a massive public donation that rebuilt the facility. The time I got sick, our sales department lost every major lead until Charles hired a private medical team to treat me at home. Today, I was being publicly assaulted in my own office because of his mistress. Jax wasn’t done. He grabbed me by my collar, dragging me up until I was on my toes. He pointed his free hand at Misty, who was still dry-heaving with theatrical sobs on the floor. “Look at what you did to her! She’s a young girl, and you’re just a pathetic old woman. Have you no shame?” The murmurs outside grew, but nobody stepped in. Nobody wanted to cross the boss’s muscle. “If you don’t make my sister forgive you today,” Jax snarled, his hot, foul breath in my face, “I’ll make sure you don’t walk out of here.” He shoved me back. My head cracked against the bookshelf, leaving me dizzy. I stood up slowly, leaning against the wood for support, and pulled my phone from my pocket. I tapped Charles’s number. Before it could ring, a small hand snatched the phone away. “What are you doing, sweetie?” Misty held the phone, tilting her head with a look of mock innocence. “Are we trying to post a little status update? Let me help you.” “Give it back,” I said, reaching for it. She ducked away easily, and Jax grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back. “Misty, give me the phone,” I said, trying to keep my voice level, though anger was clawing at my throat. Misty raised the camera, snapping several quick photos of my blood-streaked, swollen face. “Stop!” I turned my head, but Jax forced my face back toward the lens. I struggled against his grip, my voice shaking with rage. “You are going to regret this.” Misty giggled. “Why are you trying to scare me? I’m just trying to help you, sweetie.” She looked down at the screen, her eyes lighting up with malicious curiosity. “Ooh, who are all these contacts with the stars next to their names? Are these your little sugar daddies?” My blood ran cold. Every single contact with an asterisk was a high-profile client I had spent years cultivating. One of them was the CEO of Nova Tech, with whom we were scheduled to sign a massive, company-defining contract tomorrow morning. If anything went wrong with that deal, the company would collapse. “Those are the company’s VIP clients! Don’t touch those names!” My voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Misty, please. Do not mess with those contacts. Give me the phone.” She didn’t listen. If anything, my panic only excited her. She selected the photos of my beaten, bloody face and hit “send” to every starred contact. “Oops,” she gasped, tapping her cheek with faux innocence. “I hit send.” She smiled, bright and vacuous. “It’s okay, sweetie. Now your sugar daddies can see the real you. That way, you’ll know who really loves you! Aren’t I helpful?” The room seemed to tilt. “Recall the messages! Use the unsend button! Those are our most critical accounts!” With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I wrenched myself free from Jax’s grip and lunged toward her. But Jax was faster. He tripped me, and as I hit the floor, his heavy boot came down hard on the side of my face, pinning my head to the carpet. I ignored the pain of my skin scraping against the floor. “Unsend them! There is a billion-dollar deal on the line!” Misty just stood there, smiling down at me as the seconds ticked away, rendering the messages permanent. Rage boiled over. “Misty, you are a brainless, pathetic idiot!” I screamed, my voice muffled by the carpet. “You’ve ruined everything! Everything is gone!” Jax ground his boot harder into my temple. “Who gave you permission to talk to my sister like that?” Just as he prepared to put his full weight down, a familiar voice cut through the air. “What is all this racket? Don’t you people have work to do?” The crowd outside parted instantly. “Move, move, the boss is here!” Jax quickly lifted his boot, his face shifting from thuggish rage to a slick, sycophantic grin. I lay there like a discarded rag. Charles walked into the office, his sharp gray suit impeccable. Misty immediately threw herself into his arms. “Charles! You’re finally back!” She clung to his arm, rubbing her face against his sleeve, her voice dissolving into soft, trembling whimpers. “You have no idea what your wife did to me!” She held up her slightly pink hand. “She hit me, Charles! And she called me a brainless idiot! She refused to leave the office, and when I tried to reason with her, she just went crazy. Jax only stepped in to protect me…” She buried her face in his chest, sobbing softly. “Did I do something wrong, Charles? Why does she hate me so much? I was only trying to help…” Jax chimed in, looking suitably righteous. “Mr. Shen, she was brutalizing my sister. I couldn’t just stand by and watch.” “Enough,” Charles said, raising a hand. His gaze swept across the ruined office, past the torn papers, and finally landed on me, crumpled on the floor, my face a mess of blood and tangled hair. A flash of irritation and disgust crossed his features. “We’ve been over this,” he said coldly. “There is nothing left between us. Why do you keep dragging this out?” He tossed a set of divorce papers onto the floor in front of me. “Just sign it. This isn’t good for anyone.” Misty quickly scooped up a pen from the desk and shoved it toward my hand. “Sign it, hurry!” I didn’t have the energy to argue. Using what little strength I had left, I scribbled my signature on the line. Charles looked slightly surprised by my sudden compliance. But as he took the papers back and his eyes slid down to the signature line, he froze. He stared at the name written in my familiar, sharp handwriting: “Gloria.” His pupils dilated, and the color drained completely from his face. When he looked down at me again, his eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated terror.

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Chapter 1 I scored a severely battered merman at a bargain price. The seller said he was incredibly stubborn—he refused to sing, and he refused to cry. I looked at the crybaby merman who currently hummed to himself all the time. He doesn’t seem like it. Later, he kept pulling out his own scales and handing them to me. He seemed deeply anxious, looking like he didn’t want to be with me at all. Once his wounds healed, I released him back into the ocean. The merman burst into tears: Giving scales is how mermen propose! It’s a proposal! You absolute monster, this isn’t catch and release—this is abandonment! 01 This was a merman covered in scars. The shipping crate was far too small for his size. He was curled up pitifully, his hands bound tightly behind his back with restraint straps. He wore a cheap muzzle over his face, and a yellow plastic tag was punched through his ear. On it was his serial number: 531. His beautiful silver tail had completely lost its luster. After verifying the contents, I signed the delivery manifest. From today onward, he was my merman. I reached out to pick him up, but his eyes snapped open, and he let out a low, warning growl. Those ice-blue eyes were full of arrogance and high alert. I fell into a momentary daze. That color… it looked exactly like the merman I had seen when I was a little girl. Because of that, when my best friend, Chloe Stewart, sent me the auction link, I had bought him without a second thought. 02 I cleaned and treated his wounds. Once I undid his restraints, he dove straight into the indoor pool. I had pre-filled it with saltwater, matching the salinity of the ocean. I pulled some prepared salmon from the fridge, walked to the edge of the pool, and kept it brief: “Eat.” He slowly approached and reached his hand out toward me. If I had known enough about mermen, I would have recognized that this was a hunting posture. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize this until a sharp, piercing pain flared on my arm. My bracelet snapped and fell into the water. Luckily, my reflexes were fast enough that I only suffered a tiny scratch. A bead of blood dripped into the pool, blooming in the water. His nose twitched, and he froze. Looking at his reaction, I thought: Maybe he didn’t mean to scratch me? Perhaps human skin was just too fragile compared to what he was used to. I sighed and bandaged the scratch on my arm. To avoid repeating my mistake, I decided to consult the digital manual the seller had sent with the order: [Mermen do not share human language; communication requires patience.] [Mermen can operate in terrestrial environments, but they need regular hydration and require additional freshwater intake.] [This species is inherently vigilant. Domestication varies by individual. For the owner’s safety, we recommend using an aquarium initially and viewing through glass. Direct contact is not advised.] [Some mermen possess the ability to transform their tails into legs. Our store is not responsible if your merman escapes using this ability.] [If treating the merman as a companion, please note there is no reproductive isolation between humans and mermen.] [Please note: A merman’s stamina and endurance far exceed that of an ordinary human.] 03 That was it? Having no other choice, I contacted customer service. I sent them my order number. Customer Service replied instantly: [Hi bestie! As stated on the product page, this is a clearance item. He refuses to sing, refuses to communicate, and refuses to produce pearls. He has an antisocial personality and is only recommended as a low-tier bedroom companion.] [If you are returning him because of a lack of singing or pearls, we do not accept refunds!] Me: [The merman scratched me. Should I be worried about some sort of marine bacterial infection?] Customer Service: [Don’t worry bestie, all our mermen are sanitized!] I thought for a moment, then asked: [I tried feeding him salmon, but he won’t eat. Does he have specific food preferences?] Customer Service: [Bestie, theoretically, mermen can eat whatever humans eat. He might just be unaccustomed to his new environment, or maybe he prefers his food cooked!] Cooked? Mermen eat cooked food? What do wild mermen do? Do wild humans help them grill their fish? Though confused, I accepted it and followed up: [How well-done should it be?] After a pause, Customer Service replied: [Bestie, Lexi thinks medium-rare should be perfect!] Oh my god. Do wild humans also need to know how to sear a perfect medium-rare? Me: [Who is Lexi? Is she an expert?] Customer Service: [Bestie, I am Lexi! (Heart emojis)] I couldn’t find a tutorial for “medium-rare salmon,” so I just pan-seared it a bit and called it a day. Walking back to the pool, I picked up a piece of salmon with chopsticks and ate it right in front of him. “It’s edible,” I said. He stopped right in front of me, the water level just resting above his collarbones. With lowered eyes and water droplets clinging to his eyelashes, he slowly raised his hands from the water. Only then did I see that resting in his cupped palms was my broken bracelet. He had retrieved every single bead. He placed the bracelet in my hand and offered a sweet, obedient smile. It was like a completely different fish from the one I met an hour ago. I thought: Lexi was right. He really does love medium-rare salmon. 04 “Thank you,” I smiled. He swished his silver tail, looking rather pleased. Putting the bracelet away, I picked up my chopsticks again and offered a piece of salmon to him. He looked at me, didn’t reach for it, but obediently opened his mouth, waiting for me to feed him. I brought it closer, and he bit down. The next second, his eyes went wide. He shrank back instantly, his eyes turning completely red. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he wanted to spit it out but didn’t dare to. Tears pooled in his eyes, swirled around, and finally spilled over. Round, perfect pearls dropped into the pool. Human-merman relations suddenly grew unprecedentedly tense. “What’s wrong?” I pinched his jaw, commanding, “Open your mouth.” He looked at me pitifully, obediently parting his lips and sticking out the tip of his tongue. A merman’s mouth is slightly different from a human’s, possessing a sort of alien, predatory beauty. The tip of his tongue was flushed red from the heat. That was it? Didn’t the seller say he wouldn’t cry? He seemed pretty fragile to me. Perhaps the sensation of “hot food” was so foreign to him that he was overreacting. I waited for the rest of the fish to cool down completely before feeding it to him. He seemed to really enjoy it. After he finished eating, I stared at the serial number on his ear tag. 531. I fully intended to let him go once he healed, so giving him a name felt unnecessary. But I hated calling him by a number. “Caspian,” I said. “From now on, I’ll call you Caspian.” He tilted his head, probably not understanding. He just slowly swam to the edge of the pool, rested his chin on the rim, and looked up at me. “Caspian?” Oh, so he can talk. 05 I suddenly remembered the manual stated mermen needed supplemental freshwater. I fetched a glass of water and handed it to him, but he vehemently resisted, turning his face away and refusing to drink. I had to contact Customer Service again. Lexi told me that in their natural environment, mermen primarily get their freshwater intake through their food—live fish. If the fish isn’t fresh enough, they get dehydrated. Furthermore, a merman’s default concept of “water” is seawater. Until they realize a body of water is fresh, they won’t drink it proactively. Now I understood. I grabbed a cup of ice cubes from the fridge. I tipped the ice into my palm and held it out to Caspian. He leaned in, raising his hands from the water. But instead of grabbing the ice, he gently held onto my hand. Maintaining that posture, he lowered his head and delicately picked up an ice cube with his teeth. His lips brushed against my palm, causing a slight tickle. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The crisp sound of ice shattering was distinct—it would make for a great ASMR video. He seemed to love it. The chill of the ice clearly brought him immense comfort. I had one ice cube left in my palm. My body heat began to melt it, and a stream of cold water slowly trickled down the lines of my palm. Caspian saw it. As if afraid to waste a single drop, he lowered his head, darted his tongue out, and swept the water into his mouth. He even traced the wet trail, pressing soft kisses along my arm. Because of the ice, the temperature inside his mouth was freezing, his tongue and lips cool against my skin. My fingers curled involuntarily. Finally, he took the last ice cube and narrowed his eyes in pure bliss. I handed him the cup, and he finished all the ice cleanly. “Caspian, do you like it?” I asked him. He tilted his head and pondered this for a long time. Suddenly, a look of realization dawned on his face. He flipped over and dove to the bottom of the pool. A moment later, he resurfaced, holding a handful of pearls. One by one, he dropped them into the empty glass. “Like?” He pointed to his own eyes, those ice-blue irises looking at me with intense anticipation. “Like?” His tail swished gently beneath the surface. I picked up the glass and gave it a shake. The pearls clinked together, making a crisp sound. Did he think “like” meant things that were beautiful and shiny—like ice cubes, like pearls, like his eyes? It seemed he didn’t grasp the true meaning of the word “like.” Meeting his expectant gaze, I shook my head. “That’s not what it means.” Caspian looked utterly devastated, his silver tail drooping lifelessly in the water. 06 Over the next few days, I started teaching him simple vocabulary. “E-ve-lyn Hayes.” Caspian enunciated my name syllable by syllable. I nodded. “Yes. I am Evelyn Hayes. You are Caspian. Cas-pi-an.” Instead of repeating his name, he said mine again: “E-ve-lyn Hayes.” As if he had remembered something incredibly joyful, his tail began to wag. “E-ve-lyn, Evelyn.” I sighed. His communication skills were slightly lower than an adult Border Collie’s. Since Caspian could move on land, he always tried to sleep in my bed. I ended up buying him his own. It was a hydrogel bed specifically designed for mermen. It was cool and incredibly soft to the touch. If you pressed a finger into it, it would leave a dent that slowly bounced back. I called Caspian over and personally demonstrated by lying down on the hydrogel bed. “This is your bed.” I stood up, gesturing for him to try it. He touched it gently with his finger. The moment his fingertip sank into the material, his eyes lit up. Caspian laid his entire body on the bed, pressing his cheek against the cool surface, his tail quivering slightly with sheer joy. Then, he looked up at me, shifted over to make room, and curled his tail into a circle. He patted the center of the tail-ring, urging me to join him. “No,” I refused. “I have my own bed.” Mermen might love these beds, but for me, it was far too soft. It lacked support and made me feel insecure. I thought I would finally get a good night’s sleep. But when night fell, he stood steadfastly by my bed, looking down at me obediently. I tried to reason with him. “You have a bed now. You should sleep in your own bed.” He tilted his head, acting as if he didn’t understand a single word, his tail swaying silently. Mermen have such a sense of entitlement, I thought. Any surface in this house that can be slept on, he assumes is his. I sighed. “Forget it. Get up here.” Without a moment of hesitation, he leaped onto the mattress and pulled me into his arms. He rested his chin against the top of my head, wrapped his long tail around my legs to cage me in, and let out a deeply satisfied sigh. Does he really not understand? It feels like he understands perfectly when it’s something he wants to hear. When he doesn’t want to listen, he plays the “I’m just a fish, how could I possibly understand human speech?” card. But his tail was smooth and cool, the temperature perfect against my skin. It was essentially a natural cooling blanket. I let him be. 07 I don’t know how long I slept, but I was jolted awake by a searing heat. I opened my eyes to find that the usually cool-tempered merman had turned into a living furnace. His cheeks were flushed, his mouth slightly open, and his lips were an alarmingly bright shade of red. Seeing that I was awake, he pressed himself flush against me, his tail tangling tightly around my legs. “Let go. You’re too hot,” I said, showing zero guilt about kicking out my personal cooling blanket now that it was malfunctioning. Caspian didn’t let go. He reached up, cradled my face, and lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek. After the kiss, he grabbed my hand and pressed it flat against his chest. Beneath his burning skin, his heart was beating at a terrifying speed. He looked up at me with pitiful, trembling eyelashes, looking as though he might burst into tears at any second. “Evelyn…” His voice was incredibly hoarse. I finally realized what was happening. I hooked one arm around his waist, scooped the other under his tail, and lifted him effortlessly. Caspian looked bewildered. But he accepted the new scenario almost instantly. Without a trace of struggle, he rested his head in the crook of my neck and nuzzled against me. I carried him straight to the pool. And tossed him in. The seller had mentioned that while mermen could operate on land, they needed to regularly replenish their hydration. His body was burning up, and his voice was completely shot. He was definitely dehydrated. From the water, Caspian stared at me in sheer disbelief. Seeing that I was completely unmoved, he swam a few agitated laps around the pool. Yep. Definitely dehydrated. Look how happy he is doing laps in the water. Eventually, Caspian retreated to the furthest corner of the pool and silently began crying little pearls. I nodded in satisfaction. Ah, tears of joy. 08 In the morning, before I was fully awake, I felt something lightly playing with the hand I had left dangling off the side of the bed. I opened my eyes and looked over. Caspian was lying on the floor beside my bed. He was holding his arm up, playing with my fingers. Scattered all around him was a sea of pearls. Seeing that I was awake, he gave me a look of deep, mournful resentment. I didn’t know how long he had been lying there. I sat up on the edge of the bed, facing a logistical nightmare. While these pearls were exceptionally beautiful and expensive, there was currently nowhere to step. It took me zero seconds to recognize the massive slipping hazard. I used my foot to sweep a clear patch on the floor. “You clean all this up yourself.” He looked even more wronged. By the time I finished washing up and getting ready to leave, he was still picking them up, one by one. I ended up working later than expected that night. When I got back, the apartment was dark. The moment I flicked the lights on, I froze. Every single container in the house—bowls, vases, cups—was filled to the brim with pearls. Different sizes, all shimmering with an iridescent sheen. The quality was astronomical. I stood there confused: What did he do all day? Did he secretly transfer the deed to my house and buy it out? I found him on his hydrogel bed. The merman had dragged my comforter off my bed and wrapped it completely around himself, leaving only the silver tip of his tail exposed. Scattered around him were several pieces of my clothing that I wore often. What is wrong with this fish? I still need to wear those clothes, and he’s using them to build a nest? This is ridiculous. Nearby, a glass cup was overflowing with pearls. The little mountain collapsed, and a single pearl went clack, clack, roll across the floor. The bundle of blankets shifted. A listless hand reached out from underneath and blindly felt around the floor. I gently touched his fingers and pressed the runaway pearl into his palm. He stiffened, then poked his head out of the blankets. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. His grip on the pearl tightened. “Sorry… “Cleaned… it all.” The merman looked up at me with those ice-blue eyes. He reached out and gently tugged at the hem of my shirt. “Don’t be mad.” It suddenly clicked. He thought that because I left so early and came back so late… It was because I was angry with him. That was why he hadn’t dared to sleep in my bed, and why he had meticulously picked up every single pearl and stored them away. Imagining this merman thinking I was furious, sobbing while picking up pearls off the floor all day, made me want to laugh. But then I realized that mermen had no concept of “employment.” He didn’t know that a terrible thing called “overtime” existed in this world. When I thought about that, I felt like the one who should be crying was me. 09 “Caspian, I’m not mad,” I said seriously. “I was just working. It’s like hunting, do you understand? I went out to hunt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you so anxious.” He blinked. I wasn’t sure how much he actually understood, but he seemed to grasp that I wasn’t angry. I pulled a pair of small pliers from my bag, told him not to move, and carefully snipped off the yellow ear tag he had worn for so long. As expected, it left behind a pierced hole. I took out a small velvet box and opened it. Inside was a sapphire earring. The gemstone was a flawless cornflower blue, cut into a teardrop shape. The complex facets caught the light brilliantly, and at certain angles, it reflected an ice-blue hue that perfectly matched his eyes. Several strands of varying-length diamond tassels hung from it, looking exactly like white sea foam crashing against the waves. I clasped the earring into place, took his hand, and led him to the mirror. To make sure the earring was fully visible, I reached out and tucked a stray lock of silver hair behind his ear. “It matches your eyes perfectly. It’s beautiful. “Do you like it, Caspian?” The diamond tassels swayed gently. He turned to face me and lowered his head. For a split second, I wondered if he was going to bite me. But he just pressed a feather-light kiss against my ear. In the middle of the night, I woke up in a groggy haze. Caspian wasn’t beside me. He was sitting by the window, bathed in moonlight, carefully examining the sapphire earring. A melody drifted through the room. There were no lyrics, just a pure, haunting hum. It sounded as if I were suspended in the deep ocean, entirely disoriented, and someone had gently strummed a harp string. I guess it was true what they said—a merman’s song really did have the power to bewitch the mind. Didn’t the seller say he wouldn’t sing? But I was far too exhausted, so I closed my eyes and let it pull me back under. From that day on, Caspian hummed all the time. 10 My line of work is highly specialized, and it’s very easy to make powerful enemies. Eventually, they lost their patience and sent an assassin. When the hitman vaulted through my window, I was sitting calmly on the sofa. A cup of coffee, long gone cold, sat on the coffee table. I didn’t panic when I saw him. “I hope you’re here to offer me a bribe, our uninvited guest.” The assassin let out a cold sneer. “Our famously incorruptible Chief Prosecutor takes bribes now? “And what makes you think I look like I’m carrying cash?” I gave a light smile. “Everyone has desires. No one is truly incorruptible.” I leaned back against the sofa and crossed my legs. “Either the price wasn’t high enough, or the gift wasn’t right.” My gaze traveled slowly, deliberately, from his chest down to his waist. Being blatantly objectified, he finally realized what kind of “bribe” I was implying. He flushed with humiliated rage. “Hey!” At that moment, the smooth friction of scales sliding across the hardwood floor echoed through the room. Caspian slithered over to my side. He stopped at my legs, then slowly leaned down, obediently resting his head in my lap. His silver hair cascaded over my knees, the diamond tassels swaying back and forth. My fingers naturally found their way into his hair, gently combing through the strands. The assassin froze. “A merman? How do you have a merman? “Aren’t you the one pushing for the Oceanus Act?” I looked up, my fingers continuing their path through Caspian’s hair. “Are your bosses that worried about the Oceanus Act? “Once it passes, the buying and selling of mermen will be strictly prohibited. Do you know what that means? It means mermen will become infinitely more scarce.” I pulled Caspian up so he was sitting on my lap, his cheek resting against my collarbone. I reached out and lightly tilted his chin up. His eyelashes fluttered, his expression turning slightly dazed and pliant. I continued, “Did you really think those people care about the mermen? “No. What they care about is the scarcity. “Only when something is rare enough are they willing to pay for it—and they will pay unimaginable prices. “Tell your bosses to look at the bigger picture. Realize who our true target demographic is.” I looked the assassin dead in the eye. “Pushing the Oceanus Act is inevitable. Someone is going to do it eventually. “The only way to prevent genuine activists from gaining control is to have one of our own claim the spotlight first. “Obviously, I am that person.” He didn’t reply. It was probably a lot of information for a low-level hitman to process all at once. Caspian nuzzled his nose against the crook of my neck. He tilted his head up and gently bit my chin, looking incredibly impatient, like he couldn’t wait any longer. I wrapped an arm around the merman’s waist. “If you don’t plan on joining us, then please see yourself out. “We’re going to be very busy here.” 11 The assassin hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose to leave. The very next second, a gunshot rang out. He spun around in sheer disbelief, only to see me pressing the merman protectively against my chest with one hand. In my other hand, a silenced pistol was still smoking. I walked over to his body and casually kicked his gun away. Then, I fished his phone out of his pocket, yanked his head back by the hair, and used his face to unlock it. “You… lied?” His eyes were losing focus, but he still glared at me with pure hatred. “You knew what would be the most profitable… why…” Scrolling through his phone, I didn’t even spare him a glance. “I just told you. “If I don’t take this position, someone from your syndicate will. “That is exactly why I must be the one standing here.” Once I found the contact for his handler, I tossed the phone onto the floor. “Don’t worry. Your boss will be joining you in hell very soon.” If you want to be the good guy, you have to be more ruthless than the bad guys. Otherwise, you won’t survive long enough to do any good. Once he stopped breathing, I picked up my phone and made a call. “Chloe, come over. I have a package that needs handling.” Chloe’s voice was groggy. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” I checked my watch. “2:14 AM.” She cursed at me and hung up. I put my phone down and turned around, only to find Caspian standing right behind me. He was holding out a single fish scale, offering it to me. Thoroughly confused, I took it. The scale was cool to the touch, shimmering with a pearlescent gleam. “What’s this for?” I asked. He kept his head down, refusing to meet my eyes. Seeing that I had accepted it, the merman turned and bolted, diving straight back into his pool. I looked down at the scale in my hand, deeply bewildered. What does this mean? Catching sight of the bleeding corpse still lying on my living room floor out of the corner of my eye, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. What else could it mean? He was terrified, obviously. I had just executed a man in cold blood right in front of him. If he wasn’t scared, what else was it? Was he shy?

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At my joint bachelor-bachelorette party, right when the Truth or Dare game was reaching its messy, drunken peak, the tequila bottle spun across the table and stopped, pointing directly at my fiancé’s best friend. She locked eyes with me, a slow, sharp smile spreading across her face. “I’ll confess,” she said, her voice cutting through the bass of the music. “I’m pregnant. And it’s Garrett’s.” A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. The chatter died instantly. Only my face remained frozen. As the whispers started rising around us, Garrett reached over, casually running his fingers through my hair with a sigh. “It was just an accident, Isla. Don’t overthink it. We both got blackout drunk that night. We were trying to save some cash, so we shared a cheap motel room, and things just…” “But I promise you, you’re the one who’s going to be Mrs. Mercer. I could never actually be with a tomboy like Gigi anyway.” Gigi scoffed, playfully pinching his side and cursing him for throwing his “bro” under the bus. I sat there, watching them laugh and flirt, before I finally spoke. “It’s fine.” He let out a visible breath of relief. The bottle spun again, its green glass blurring under the neon lights. This time, it stopped, pointing its neck directly at me. The room fell quiet, waiting for my truth. I looked around, my voice flat and entirely steady. “I have a confession, too. At our wedding in three days, the groom will be Callum Peterson.” … There was a beat of absolute silence, followed by a single laugh, and then a wave of mockery crashed over me. “Isla, stop acting crazy. Everyone knows how desperately you chased Garrett.” “Seriously. You spent three years sucking up to his mother just to get her blessing. Don’t ruin your only shot at getting married over a little temper tantrum.” “And Callum Peterson? He’s the crown prince of Seattle’s tech money. Why would a billionaire want Garrett’s discarded leftovers?” Garrett squeezed my hand lightly, his tone dismissive. “Babe, don’t be ridiculous.” “You know everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me. If you call off the wedding now, no one else is going to want you.” The engagement ring on my finger suddenly felt like a brand, tightening around my skin until my throat burned. He was right. Everyone in Seattle knew I was Garrett’s devoted shadow. I had done too many humiliating things for him over the years. Like the Valentine’s Day I had nine thousand roses flown in just to confess to him. Or the month I rented a fleet of drones to spell out “ISLA LOVES GARRETT” across the downtown skyline. Even now, the digital billboards on the commercial towers downtown were looping our engagement photos. I had played the part of the desperate girl for so long that he simply assumed I was his permanent property. Tears stung my eyes, but no one in the room cared about my humiliation. The bottle spun again, and this time it landed on Garrett. The atmosphere heated up instantly, and Gigi gave him a suggestive wink. “Garrett, we’ve played Truth for too many rounds. A real man chooses Dare. Do you have the guts to do something interesting?” Garrett raised an eyebrow, asking her what she had in mind. Gigi’s eyes gleamed. “Since it’s a bachelor party, how about a French kiss with someone in the room? After all, you won’t get a chance once you’re tied down.” She caught my tight expression, quickly covering her mouth with a fake display of apology. “You don’t mind, do you, Isla? I mean, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Back when we took lifesaving classes, we did mouth-to-mouth resuscitation all the time.” The crowd cheered in agreement. Garrett laughed, swatting Gigi’s hip playfully. “Kissing my bro? You’re sick.” “But fine, I’ll play.” He grabbed Gigi by the waist, pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss. The sight of them, framed by the flashing strobes of the lounge, made my stomach turn. A sudden wave of nausea hit me. I bolted for the bathroom and dry-heaved over the sink, waiting for the sickness in my throat to pass. After the party, Garrett pulled me aside by the car, looking slightly conflicted. “Isla, Gigi has been an orphan her whole life. This baby might have been an accident, but it’s her only real family now. She wants to keep it.” I closed my eyes, exhausted. “And?” “I’m thinking we should postpone the wedding. Just until she has the baby. It’s not like we haven’t pushed the date back before. You know the drill.” A familiar ache settled deep in my chest. Ever since my mother got sick a year ago, I had begged Garrett to marry me. Her only dying wish was to see me walk down the aisle. But Garrett always had a reason to say no. Gigi’s cat was sick, so he had to stay with her. Or his family counselor said the date was a bad omen for his business. The wedding had been delayed over and over, and now, I was just tired. I looked into his eyes and said quietly, “Garrett, let’s break up.” The hand he had raised to wipe a tear from my cheek froze in midair. His face darkened. He sat down on the hood of his car, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Gigi was right,” he said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “You women are so high-maintenance.” He looked at me with a condescending pity. “Look, if you’re going to throw a fit about the wedding, we can still do it. But Gigi is pregnant with my child, and I have a responsibility to take care of her.” “For the first year of our marriage, I’ll stay at our place on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, I’ll be with Gigi. Sundays we can split. Think of it as your way of making up for being so difficult about her situation.” I stared at him, unable to process the sheer audacity of his words. Before I could even find my voice, his phone rang. Gigi’s voice drifted through the speaker. Without another look at me, Garrett answered, turned, and walked away. Watching his retreating back, I remembered that our relationship hadn’t always been so one-sided. Back in college, when I tripped during a track meet, he had looked just as panicked as he did now. When did it change? Probably the night of Gigi’s welcome-home dinner, when I slipped and sprained my ankle. As Garrett bent down to check on me, Gigi had laughed. “Isla, do you have to do this now? I get that you want Garrett’s attention, but throwing a scene at your boyfriend’s best friend’s welcome dinner… yikes.” She had slung an arm around Garrett’s shoulder, acting magnanimous. “Go ahead and take her to the ER, Garrett. I won’t hold it against you. Some of us are tough, but your girl is fragile.” That exact dynamic repeated itself dozens of times over the next few years. Every injury, every moment of pain I experienced, was labeled by Gigi as “attention-seeking” and “manipulative.” Eventually, everyone around us accepted that narrative, using it to justify treating me like an afterthought. I squeezed the metal ring on my finger until it bent out of shape. I pulled out my phone and texted my old college friend. “Does your proposal still stand?” He replied almost instantly. “The courthouse opens at eight tomorrow morning. I’ll be waiting.” I wiped my face, typed a single word—”Yes”—and called a cab to go back to the townhouse to pack my things. But when I unlocked the front door, the first thing I heard was Gigi’s voice. “Garrett, let me borrow a shirt. I realized I forgot to pack clean clothes after my shower.” Garrett walked straight into the master bathroom with a fresh shirt. Through the cracked door, I heard their laughter. “You’re built like a boy anyway, there’s nothing to hide. You look ridiculous compared to my girl.” “Yeah, yeah! Your girl is the absolute best. I’m texting the group chat right now to tell everyone how whipped you are.” A few minutes later, Gigi stepped out of the bathroom wearing Garrett’s oversized white button-down. She paused when she saw me standing in the hallway, but her smile returned instantly. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Isla. We’ve been friends for so long that we could sleep naked in the same bed and feel absolutely nothing but brotherly love.” “Garrett only came in to help me because it’s second nature. Don’t go turning this into a whole drama, okay?” I stared at the fresh bite mark on her collarbone. I didn’t say a word. I walked past her into the bedroom to pack. As I pulled open my dresser drawer, a pair of black lace thongs fell out onto the floor. Before I could even look at them, Gigi snatched them up. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t have any clean underwear when I came over, so I just grabbed whatever Garrett had in his drawer. We don’t really care about boundaries like that. You get it, right?” She twirled the lace around her finger, looking at me with pure provocation. My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. I took a deep breath, forcing down the sickness in my stomach, and let out a cold laugh. “I get it. After all these years, you’re still just the ‘bro.’ I admire how hard you’re working to climb into my fiancé’s bed as his mistress.” Gigi’s eyes flared with venom. She raised her hand to slap me, and I instinctively blocked her arm. But with a sharp gasp, Gigi lost her balance and tumbled backward onto the floor. At that exact moment, the front door slammed open, and Garrett rushed into the room. He lunged forward to pull Gigi up, turning to glare at me with pure fury. “Isla! What the hell are you doing?” Gigi clung to his neck, giving me a smug, victorious look before putting on a weak voice. “It’s fine, Garrett. She’s just mad at me. She barely pushed me. Don’t be so mean to her.” “Girls are just fragile and jealous. It’s normal. We shouldn’t hold it against her.” Garrett grabbed my wrist, his eyes bloodshot. “Isla, when did you become so malicious? She just wanted to be a mother, so she asked me to help her have a baby.” “She didn’t mean to come between us. Can’t you just be the bigger person?” So there was no drunken mistake. No blackout night. It was entirely intentional. The last thread of my sanity snapped. I swung my free hand and slapped him across the face. “She’s wearing your clothes in my house, pregnant with your child, and you’re asking me to be the bigger person? Are you insane?” Garrett stared at me, shocked into silence. He touched his cheek, wiping a trace of blood from his lip. Slowly, his expression turned cold, and he looked at me with a quiet, cutting cruelty. “Isla, you got pregnant and had an abortion for me when you were eighteen. You did far worse just to keep me around. You don’t have some high-and-mighty dignity left to protect.” Gigi gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Isla. I thought you were one of those quiet, sweet girls. I didn’t realize you were that wild.” My body went completely numb. I stared at the man I had loved for a decade, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth. Garrett watched me crumble, continuing with a calm indifference. “If I remember correctly, you were terrified your parents would find out, and I didn’t want the hassle of a kid. You went to that shady clinic all by yourself, didn’t you? You weren’t so dramatic back then.” I raised a trembling hand to cover his mouth. “Please… stop.” That lost pregnancy was the deepest wound of my life. We were young, foolish, and I had taken his sweet whispers to heart. “Have my baby, Isla, and I’ll get my mom to propose to your family.” Because of that lie, I had believed him. And in the end, it was just a lonely, painful afternoon in a cold room with a doctor who didn’t care. Tears fell onto Garrett’s hand. He finally softened slightly, letting go of my wrist and pulling me close. “Just be good. Apologize to Gigi, and we can pretend none of this happened. We can still get married tomorrow.” Maybe I had been hurt so many times that the pain had finally gone numb. I didn’t argue. Gigi watched us, her eyes darting between us before she patted Garrett’s shoulder. “Garrett, if she doesn’t want to apologize, let it go. You know how stubborn girls can be.” “But take it from me—don’t spoil her too much. A little attitude is cute, but this is just exhausting.” Garrett sighed, looking at me with deep irritation. “Isla, starting tomorrow, don’t bother coming to the office anymore. Gigi is right, you’ve gotten too reckless. You need to learn some humility.” “You can stay home and help Gigi out while she recovers from the birth. It’ll do you some good. As for the wedding, we’ll push it to next month.” I looked at his face, so calm, so entitled, and I nodded. “Okay.” I didn’t tell him that by tomorrow, I would be married to someone else. The next morning, Garrett left early to take Gigi to her ultrasound. He left a note on the counter: “Gigi wants those homemade cinnamon rolls you make. She’s my best friend and she’s pregnant, so try to show some grace as her sister-in-law.” I crumpled the note, tossed it into the trash, picked up my suitcase, and walked out of the house. Callum was waiting for me outside in his car. The moment he saw me, a genuine, warm smile lit up his face. Our wedding at the courthouse was small, quiet, and beautiful. Afterward, we rode around the city, the car window rolled down. Callum wanted everyone to know. Under the quiet warmth of the afternoon light, we exchanged rings and promised ourselves to each other. By afternoon, the city’s local lifestyle outlets were already buzzing with the news of the Peterson family’s sudden, quiet marriage. At that moment, Garrett was driving Gigi back from her appointment, passing through the city center. Seeing the massive digital billboards displaying wedding announcements, Gigi laughed. “Garrett, look at that. When are you going to grow up and throw me a massive wedding like that?” Garrett looked at her, and an involuntary feeling of distaste rose in his chest. She had short, boyish hair, wore a tank top with jeans, and even with her slight baby bump, she looked entirely unrefined. A sudden thought popped into his head: “If I’m going to marry someone, it has to be Isla. She’s elegant, soft, and when she looks at me, I can’t help but soften.” “Gigi is great as a friend, but as a wife… only if the lights are off.” He shrugged, dismissive. “Forget it. If I marry anyone, it’s Isla. If you’re that interested, you can be my best man.” Gigi glared at him, turning to look out the window. Suddenly, she gasped. “Garrett… the bride on that screen. It looks exactly like Isla.” Garrett didn’t even hesitate to scoff. “Impossible. Isla told me she’d never marry anyone but me. If she stopped chasing me, the sun would rise in the west.” “It’s probably just a lookalike.” But he still leaned forward, looking up at the massive display. And there, high above the city, he watched me press my lips against Callum Peterson’s.

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I was out of town, having just closed a hundred-million-dollar contract. Before I could even send the good news to the team, an email popped up in my inbox. It was a salary reduction agreement from HR. “Liam, as the Head of Sales, you need to lead by example. The company is going through a rough patch, so we’re cutting mid-level management’s salaries by 30%!” I rejected it immediately. But when I got back to the office, my keycard wouldn’t scan. They had revoked my security clearance, and my work accounts were completely shut down. Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this? Fine. I’m going to gift this company a fast-track ticket to bankruptcy! If business is so bad, why keep it open anyway? Looking at the pay cut notice from HR, I was completely stunned. After double-checking to make sure it wasn’t a prank, I replied directly to the email: Rejected. A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was my boss, Arthur Sterling. “Liam, you’re a veteran here. You need to lead by example. The market is tough right now, and the company is struggling.” “This pay cut is just to help us get through this rough patch. You need to be understanding!” “I understand, Arthur, but I don’t accept it. On this business trip, I just—” Before I could finish, Arthur lost his temper and cut me off. “Liam! Don’t get cocky just because you have some talent! This company gave you the platform to grow. Now is the time for you to stand with us!” Hearing him scream through the receiver, I kept my voice deadpan. “I don’t agree to the pay cut.” “Fine! Just you wait!” He slammed the phone down. I looked at the signed contract in my hands and fell into deep thought. Then, I opened Snapchat to get some inside info from a close colleague. “Liam, everyone in the company is being forced to sign it. Arthur was raging just now. He said you weren’t cooperating and that he’d make an example out of you first! You need to get back here fast!” Seeing the message from my team member, Chris, I logged into my email to back up all my work evidence. I wrapped up the loose ends of my project and booked the next flight back. By the time I returned to the office, it was the next afternoon. When I reached the lobby, the facial recognition scanner failed. I tried my keycard, but it had been deactivated. I couldn’t even get past the turnstile. I called Chris, and he came downstairs to let me in, whispering, “Arthur ordered HR to deactivate your card. He said you refused the pay cut and were being uncooperative. Liam, be careful. He’s definitely going to make your life living hell!” “He wouldn’t dare. I just got back from a major business trip. Messing with me now is pure stupidity.” “Who knows if he’s lost his damn mind. HR has already started calling people in for ‘chats’!” “Sigh! Arthur is really suffocating us. He could have at least made the cut smaller!” Make it smaller? No way. A 30% cut on my salary was exactly what he needed to fund his mistress’s lavish lifestyle in Paris. If I hadn’t personally seen his mistress boasting on Ins about her pregnancy and her luxury shopping sprees, I might have actually believed the company was struggling. When I walked into the department, my colleagues looked at me with mixed expressions. Chris headed to the restroom to avoid getting caught talking to me. I sat at my desk and prepared to upload the new contract, only to find I couldn’t log into the system. I entered my password several times, but the screen only displayed: Access Denied. I got the message. They blocked my access and locked me out of the building just to force me into accepting the pay cut. Fine. Let’s have a chat. I patted the folder containing the hundred-million-dollar contract in my bag, stood up, and went to Arthur’s office. Before I could even speak, he sneered. “Liam, you think you’re so smart. A genius like you is far too grand for my little company!” “Arthur, what is that supposed to mean?” “You’ve been absent without leave for more than three days. According to company policy, you are officially terminated!” “No need to explain. Just pack your bags and get the hell out!” Hearing this, my blood boiled. “Absent? I was on a business trip!” Arthur gave me a smug, patronizing smile. “A business trip? Where’s the proof? Where’s the contract? You have nothing. How are you going to prove you were working?” I reached into my bag to pull out the contract, but suddenly, I stopped. Arthur wanted to snatch the contract first and then throw me out like trash. He wanted to drain every last drop of my value. Not a chance. “No proof means you were slacking off. Liam, you’re fired. Get out of my office. Right now!” He pointed at the door, looking absolutely thrilled with himself. “Arthur, are you absolutely sure you want me to get out?”

“Absolutely. Liam, this company doesn’t need an employee who doesn’t know how to obey!” “Understood,” I said. I turned around and walked back to my desk. I opened a terminal on my laptop, ran a custom script, and let it execute in the background. Arthur seemed to have forgotten my background. He forgot that I didn’t just manage sales. I wrote the entire operating system of this company! An hour later, I finished gathering all my personal documents and went to the HR department for the exit interview. Arthur happened to be there. I wasn’t the only one; two colleagues from the planning department who also refused the pay cut were there too. They looked shocked when they saw me walk in. “Liam! What are you doing here?” I shrugged with a dry smile. “The boss told me to get lost. I had no choice but to oblige.” The two of them shook their heads in disbelief. “Arthur has lost his mind. He’s throwing away talent like you?” I didn’t say much. During the offboarding process with HR, I asked casually, “Since the company is terminating me, you’ll be paying out my severance package based on my years of service, right?” Toby, the HR manager, sneered at me. “Are you dreaming? You think we’re going to pay you a massive severance? We’re only paying out your salary for this month.” “Excuse me?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you joking? According to labor laws, I’ve been with this company for ten years. My monthly salary is $20,000. Twenty months of severance equals at least $400,000. If you pay a single penny less, I will see you in arbitration.” Toby’s face turned sour. “Liam, you abandoned your post first, and now you’re stabbing us in the back? After everything Arthur has done for you!” “At your age, good luck finding another job in this market!” “Arthur has taken care of you for years. He only asked for a 30% cut because you’re a veteran, and he promised your year-end bonus would remain untouched. Do you know how many people are losing their jobs out there? Even secure government contracts are getting delayed!” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you know what the most useless department in this company is? It’s yours, Toby. Your entire HR department.” “You do nothing but coast by, you’re completely incompetent, and you can’t even get the monthly timesheets right. You’ll be the next one he fires.” “Tell Arthur I want my full severance. If he doesn’t pay, I’ll drag him through arbitration.” Toby’s face turned purple with rage. He rushed straight into Arthur’s office. A second later, a roar echoed through the hallway. “Liam! You won’t get a single dime from me! And I will personally blackball you from this entire industry! You dare defy me? I’ll make sure none of you ever find a job again!” Hearing this, the other two colleagues looked terrified. They had mortgages to pay and kids to feed; they didn’t have the courage to stand up to Arthur like this. But I wasn’t afraid. I looked Arthur dead in the eye. “We’ll see about that.” He pointed at the exit. “Get the hell out!” “No need to shout. I’m leaving.” Before stepping out, I had already secured all the evidence I needed. More importantly, I had an ace up my sleeve. “Arthur, I’ll be waiting for the day you come begging on your knees.” He sneered. “If I ever beg you, I’ll eat my own shoe!” “Make sure you keep that promise.” I walked out. As soon as I got home, I sent a mass message to all my clients via Snapchat, informing them that I had been terminated and would no longer be representing Sterling Tech. I also noted that Sterling Tech would no longer be handling their accounts. Within minutes, my phone blew up. Clients called me one after another, bewildered by the ridiculous 30% pay cut story. “Liam, why don’t you join us? We can easily offer you a six-figure salary with a signing bonus!” “Come over to my firm, Liam. You can be the Managing Director. You’ll run the entire department.”

I thanked them for their offers, but I already had a plan. Arthur was the one losing out. Now that the clients knew what kind of boss he was, they wouldn’t want to deal with him either. Since the clients trusted me personally, I had nothing to worry about. The next day, I consulted an employment attorney and officially filed for arbitration. Two days after submitting the evidence, the arbitration representative called me. Arthur’s legal team wanted to settle. But they only offered $5,000. I rejected it immediately and insisted on going through the full legal process. If the arbitration result wasn’t satisfactory, I’d take them straight to court. Seeing that I was playing hardball, Arthur spread rumors in the industry to blackball me. The other two laid-off colleagues came to me, and I told them we stood a much better chance if we filed a joint suit. They immediately handed over all their evidence, and we waited for the legal gears to turn. In the meantime, I took a quick trip out of town. Two days later, I officially signed with Nexa Technologies, bringing the hundred-million-dollar contract with me. I was put in charge of Nexa’s entire local division. Meanwhile, Sterling Tech was falling into absolute chaos. Even though I was gone, my old team members were still there. Chris called me on FaceTime, looking panicked. “Liam, the company’s systems are totally crashing. All our code is turning into a mess of errors, and nothing will run.” “Arthur brought in some external developers, but once they looked at the backend, they said the source code was entirely custom-written. They can’t do anything without the original architect. That’s you!” “Arthur is throwing a massive fit in his office. He says he’s going to find you!” I chuckled. “Chris, I actually have an opening in my new team. Pack up your things. Once you get your final paycheck, come join me.” “You already found a new gig, Liam?” “Yeah. Nexa Technologies. And I can offer you a 20% bump on your current salary.” Chris was ecstatic. He immediately sent me two videos of Arthur screaming and cursing like a madman in his office. I tapped my fingers on the desk. This was only the beginning. Arthur, your “blessings” are just starting to roll in. Three days after Nexa Technologies publicly announced our new hundred-million-dollar deal, Arthur called me. “Liam, listen, you designed the system architecture. You must have a way to fix this.” “How about I pay you to consult?” I smiled. “Sure. Pay me my full severance first, and then we can talk.” “You’re extorting me!” “I’m just claiming what is legally mine, Arthur. If you don’t want to pay, feel free to hire someone else to rebuild it from scratch. It’ll only cost you a few million dollars in R&D.” He gasped for air over the phone. “In your dreams!” He slammed the phone down. I didn’t care. I instructed my team to prepare for our product launch. Nexa Technologies’ new product was a massive deal, and the industry was watching. Arthur was watching too. Nexa had set up a major marketing campaign for me, including a solo press conference. I accepted it all. Just a day later, word got out that Arthur had hired a cheap agency to patch up his system using a generic, off-the-shelf software. Chris snapped me, saying the new system was absolute garbage and riddled with bugs. I told him to relax. Arthur had played his last card. When Nexa’s new system went live, it was flawless. It completely crushed Arthur’s patched-up software. In fact, Arthur quickly realized that Nexa’s user interface looked incredibly familiar. It was an upgraded version of the very architecture I had designed at his company—but built entirely on my personal patents. Our system was smoother, faster, and far more user-friendly. When Nexa’s launch trailer dropped, the entire industry was blown away. Right on cue, Arthur called me again, his voice trembling with rage. “Liam! You stole my company’s intellectual property! I’m going to sue you to high heaven!”

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Seven months pregnant. I found an expired asset transfer agreement in Julian’s hidden safe in his study. Twenty percent of Vance Group’s shares, worth billions. Plus three overseas estates and a private island. All gifted for free to my stepsister, Seraphina. But when Julian and I got married, he only handed me a prenuptial agreement. “A business alliance, just a formality,” he had said casually back then. “Sign it.” I signed it, entering the Vance family with absolutely nothing. Ten years of marriage, and I didn’t even know his PIN code. “Who allowed you into my study?” Julian’s voice came from the door, ice-cold. I turned to look at this man I had loved for fifteen years. No tears, no scene. I just said calmly, “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” He strode in, snatched the agreement from my hand, and threw it to the floor. “An old story from years ago, and you’re making a scene over it?” He didn’t even explain. He just angrily told me to get out. I calmly walked out of the study, pulled out my phone, and made a call. “Marcus, help me find a safe place. I want to move out immediately.”

My stomach started cramping uncontrollably. I leaned against the bedroom wall, sliding down to the floor, fighting back tears as I texted my lawyer. My lawyer’s call came back instantly. “Mrs. Vance, are you absolutely sure you want to waive all marital assets and leave with nothing?” “According to the law, a pregnant woman is entitled to at least” Marital assets? I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. There were no marital assets. All of Julian’s stock appreciation over the years was held through nominees, and all his assets were notarized as pre-marital property. My name was never on the family trust’s beneficiary list. On the day we got engaged, he had casually mentioned that he wouldn’t marry a woman who lived off him. He wouldn’t hand over what he worked so hard to get just because of a marriage. Back then, I thought he was just bitter because his father forced him to marry me to repay an old family debt. I knew how hard it was for him to inherit the Vance Group while fighting off a pack of ruthless half-brothers. So, like an obedient fool, I signed page after page of property waivers. I thought that one day, he would let his guard down and truly see me. But seeing that asset transfer agreement, I realized how pathetic I was. Every single asset on that list matched the exact items I had signed away at the notary office years ago. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to share. It was just that the wife he wanted to share it with wasn’t me. “Marcus,” I interrupted him. “Please draft the divorce papers. I’m leaving with nothing.” My hands were still shaking when I hung up. Not from hesitation, but from pure rage. Ten years of marriage felt like a long, elaborate scam, and I had willingly played the fool. The password to Julian’s hidden safe was Seraphina’s birthday. He was willing to give Seraphina everything, yet my monthly credit card limit was capped at five hundred dollars. Even when I was seven months pregnant, vomiting my guts out, he was busy accompanying Seraphina to her private art exhibition. And the most ridiculous part? I was the one who designed their love nest. Three months ago, Julian brought me a villa’s blueprints, forcing me to work despite my severe morning sickness. “A friend is gifting a villa to his partner. Design it to the highest standard, as soon as possible.” Now it clicked. That “friend” was himself. And the elegant signature on the owner’s line read “S.S.” Seraphina Sterling. The divorce papers arrived by evening. My lawyer made one last attempt to persuade me. “Mrs. Vance, at least keep the money you earned yourself…” I shook my head. Julian hadn’t contributed a single dime to our household expenses over the years. All my income as a designer had gone into running this house. Looking back, I must have seemed incredibly cheap to him. As I signed, the baby kicked violently, as if protesting, or perhaps comforting me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I broke down and cried.

By that afternoon, with Marcus’s help, I rented an apartment. I didn’t care about the location or the layout. I just wanted to leave as soon as possible. It was 8:00 PM when I got back to the Vance estate. The exhaustion of pregnancy made my back ache intensely, but I still cooked one last dinner. All Julian’s favorites. For ten years, I knew his tastes better than my own. Whatever the ending, I wanted a clean break for the sake of our fifteen-year history. But Julian didn’t return until 1:00 AM. He smelled of the perfume Seraphina loved, with a glaring lipstick stain on his collar. I watched him loosen his tie. His ring finger was bare. At some point, he had stopped wearing his wedding band. He saw the cold, untouched food on the table, and his brow furrowed. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep annoyance. “Playing the victim again? Do you really think this will make me back down?” He tossed his coat onto the sofa and headed upstairs without a second glance. “Julian,” I called out, my voice surprisingly calm. “The divorce papers are on the table. Sign them.” He froze, then turned around, his eyes dripping with sarcasm. “All because of an expired agreement? Luna, since when did you become so unreasonable?” “Your father forced me into this marriage by using a life-saving favor. I had no choice.” “Seraphina has a weak heart. I just wanted to give her some security, a gesture of goodwill!” Security? A gesture? How laughable. Two simple phrases dismissed all my pain. I finally understood. For ten years, the obstacle between us wasn’t anything elsehe simply never loved me. Fifteen years ago, on a rainy night, his half-brothers were hunting him down. I hid him in my family’s pool house for three days. I secretly brought him food and medicine, nearly getting beaten to death myself by those thugs. He had held my hand and promised, “Luna, once I take control of the Vance family, I will marry you in style.” He did take control, using ruthless corporate means. But he “married” me with nothing but a cold, calculating prenuptial agreement. “Julian,” I said, holding my belly as I stood up. “So you do remember that you owe me your life.” He paused, then sneered. “Oh, so you want to settle the score now? Fine. Name your price. How much do you want?” Name your price. I laughed bitterly. The last warm corner of my heart turned to ash. “No need, Julian. I’m truly done with this marriage.” “I want to see the signed divorce papers on the living room table by 9:00 AM tomorrow.” I squeezed out every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady. Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and went upstairs. Behind me, the sound of glass shattering echoed, followed by his furious, out-of-control roar: “Luna! You’d better not regret this!” Regret? My only regret was opening that pool house door fifteen years ago.

The next morning, the living room was empty. The divorce papers had been torn to shreds, scattered carelessly across the expensive rug. My heart clenched at the sight, but then quickly went numb. This was Julian’s answer. He wouldn’t explain, and he wouldn’t let go. My phone lit up with a message from Seraphina on Snapchat. A month ago, she had suddenly added me. Her first message was: “Luna, long time no see. I’m back. Julian picked me up at the airport. He hasn’t changed at all.” Since then, my phone had become a front-row seat to her happiness. A photo of Julian’s back as he walked with her at the art gallery, Julian putting food on her plate, her bare leg resting casually in Julian’s car… And yesterday, she sent a voice note. In the background, I could clearly hear Julian hanging up a call impatiently. “Luna? Don’t worry about her, she always makes a big deal out of nothing. Just focus on the paintings.” The latest message was sent ten minutes ago. It was a photo. Julian was sleeping in her bed, looking peaceful, surrounded by the star-themed bedding I knew too well. The caption read: “Luna, I heard you touched Julian’s things in his study and made him mad?” “Sigh, that agreement was just something he made to comfort me when I was sick years ago. It expired long ago. Don’t misunderstand.” “But Luna, you really look like my younger self, especially your eyes. Julian said that’s the first thing he noticed when he met you.” “Oh, by the way, how is the baby? Julian said he hopes the baby inherits my eyes.” A wave of nausea hit my throat. I rushed into the bathroom and dry-heaved violently. My morning sickness had never been this intense. Leaning against the sink, I stared at my pale face and bloodshot eyes in the mirror. These eyes… I only had them because they looked like hers? Fifteen years of devotion, ten years of marriage, all because a man couldn’t get the woman he truly wanted. And I was just a cheap, flawed substitute. Tears finally spilled over. With trembling hands, I replied to Seraphina. “You always love picking up my trash. Keep him. Keep Julian.” I sent it. Almost instantly, Julian’s name flashed on my screen. I didn’t pick up. I declined the FaceTime call and blocked his number. The world went blissfully quiet. I held my tightening belly, took deep breaths, and forced myself to calm down. Now was not the time for grief. I called a moving company and began packing my things. My clothes, my design sketches, my simple kitchenware, and small appliances… Everything I bought myself was packed into boxes. As for the expensive jewelry, designer gowns, and luxury bags Julian bought to maintain the image of “Mrs. Vance,” I didn’t touch a single one. Even my wedding ring was left quietly on the vanity. The movers arrived quickly and loaded the boxes. Before leaving, I took one last look at the mansion I had lived in for ten years. Beautiful, cold, and a perfect golden cage. And now, my sentence was served. My new apartment was tiny, but it got plenty of sunlight. It took me a whole day to unpack. My body ached, and my lower abdomen felt heavy, but a strange sense of relief washed over me. That night, I received a text from an unknown number. It was Julian. “Luna, come home right now. We can pretend none of this happened.” “Seraphina is in fragile health. Stop harassing and stressing her out.” “And deliver the baby. A Vance heir cannot be born outside.” Looking at the text, I laughed until tears came out. Even now, all he cared about was Seraphina’s feelings and the Vance bloodline. Whether I lived or died, felt pain or sorrow, didn’t matter to him at all. I didn’t reply. I deleted the message and blocked the number.

The day before my scheduled check-up, I went to the hospital. In the ultrasound room, cold gel was applied to my stomach, and the transducer slid over it. The doctor pointed at the screen. “The baby is very healthy. Look, these are the tiny hands, and these are the feet…” The tiny figure was moving, and my heart clenched painfully. With a cracked voice, I asked, “Doctor… the baby’s father is trying to force me to give up custody. What should I do?” The older female doctor adjusted her glasses, looking at me with a complicated expression. “At this stage, an induced labor or giving up the baby would be devastating to you. Besides… the baby can already feel pain.” She placed her hand gently on my stomach. “This baby seems very lively.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. My steps were unsteady as I walked out of the clinic. But at the end of the long hallway, I saw the one person I dreaded meeting. Julian stood there in his bespoke suit, looking every bit the powerful CEO of the Vance Group. “Come back with me.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it nearly crushed my bones. “Stop throwing tantrums.” “A tantrum?” I looked up at him. “Julian, you think this is a tantrum?” “That agreement was expired and useless,” he said impatiently. “Seraphina’s heart is weak. I just wanted to give her some security” “So I’m just the stepping stone for your beautiful love story?” I wrenched my hand back. “Julian, do you remember the year we got married, when I had a hundred-and-four-degree fever? You said you were too busy to come home. Later, I saw Seraphina’s Instagram post showing you two skiing in Switzerland.” “On our third anniversary, you said you had a board meeting, but I saw your car in the background of Seraphina’s selfie.” “Every time I had a prenatal check-up, you were too busy. Yet you always had time to go to her art shows, buy her jewelry, and celebrate every single one of her birthdays.” I listed them one by one, my voice as calm as if I were telling someone else’s story. Julian’s expression finally cracked. “You… you knew all along?” “Because I never said anything, I just kept telling myself to give you one more chance, to believe in you one more time.” I smiled, but tears streamed down my face. “It was only when I saw that agreement that I realized what a fool I’ve been.” He fell silent. For the first time, I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it was too late. Way too late. “I will have this baby,” I said softly. “But it has nothing to do with you.” “From now on, the baby and I have absolutely nothing to do with Julian Vance.” With that, I turned and walked away. He didn’t chase after me. For the next few days, I shut off all communication and rested in my apartment. My lawyer told me Julian refused to sign the divorce papers. “Mrs. Vance, if you insist on a divorce, we’ll have to go to court. But since you are pregnant, the court usually favors mediation first.” “Furthermore, Mr. Vance made it clear that if you go to court, he has the resources to take full custody of the child.” Marcus’s voice sounded helpless. I held the phone, silent for a long time. I knew Julian could do it. He had endless wealth and power. I had nothing but the baby in my belly. “Marcus, how long would a contested divorce take?” “If he drags it out and uses his connections… it could take years.” Years? I couldn’t wait that long. My baby couldn’t be born into this chaos. I had to make Julian agree to the divorce himself.

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My husband, Brandon, had a low sperm count, so we decided to go through IVF. Before the embryos were fused, I caught him switching my eggs with those of his first love, Georgina. I didn’t say a word. I just switched them back. And while I was at it, I had the doctor swap Brandon’s sperm with my ex-boyfriend Cooper’s. Twenty-five years later, Georgina showed up at my house, grabbing my daughter and crying her eyes out. “I’m your real mother!” she sobbed. My daughter, Priscilla, and I had just returned from an international medical business trip. The moment we stepped into the house, we froze. The living room was packed. Relatives we hadn’t seen in years—the kind who only crawled out of the woodwork when they wanted money—were all gathered there. Looking at them, you’d think someone had died. But the most ridiculous sight was sitting right in the middle of the sofa: Georgina, weeping dramatically. Brandon, my pathetic excuse for a husband who barely ever came home, was wrapped around her, whispering sweet nothings to comfort her. I raised an eyebrow, rolled my suitcase to the side, and looked at Brandon. “What’s the occasion today? Why is everyone here?” Priscilla stood behind me, crossing her arms. Her face was cold, and she stared at Georgina with pure disgust. She already had a pretty good idea of who this woman was. My mother-in-law, Betty, sat in the main armchair. Her expression was tense, and she looked like she wanted to say something but held back. Before Brandon could even open his mouth, Georgina threw herself off the couch, lunging toward Priscilla with tears streaming down her face. “I’m your real mother!” she cried. Priscilla dodged her easily, her brows furrowing in utter disgust as if Georgina were a piece of trash. She took a step back and said coldly, “My mother’s name is Angel.” Priscilla truly was my pride and joy. I squeezed Priscilla’s hand, giving her a reassuring look. Then, I raised my hand and slapped Georgina right across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the silent living room. “Watch your mouth,” I said, my voice ice-cold. Brandon leapt to his feet, pulling Georgina up defensively. He pointed a shaking finger at me and roared, “Angel, are you insane? How dare you hit Georgina!” He raised his hand, threatening to strike me. Priscilla was faster. She stepped in front of me and slapped Brandon across the face before he could even register it. “Don’t you dare touch my mother,” Priscilla said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a terrifying authority. Brandon froze, stunned and furious. He raised his hand to hit Priscilla. But Georgina grabbed his arm, crying fake tears. “Brandon, don’t! That’s our daughter!” Her act of “maternal love” made me want to throw up. Brandon lowered his hand, glaring at Priscilla. “If it weren’t for your real mother’s sake, I would teach you a lesson today!” Priscilla let out a cold laugh. “Oh really? I’d love to see you try.” The fierce, sharp look in her eyes was identical to how I looked in my youth. I felt a surge of pride. That’s my girl. 2 One of the family elders cleared his throat, trying to bring order back to the chaotic room. “Quiet down, everyone!” his booming voice commanded. The room gradually fell silent, and everyone turned their attention to him. He looked at Brandon. “Brandon, you called this family meeting. What is this all about?” Brandon took a deep breath, trying to look brave. He put his arm around Georgina’s shoulders, putting on a show of deep devotion. “Actually, I have a major announcement to make today.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over the crowd before landing on Priscilla and me. I just watched him quietly, waiting to see what kind of circus act he was going to pull. “Priscilla… she is not Angel’s biological daughter.” Brandon’s voice wasn’t loud, but the words dropped like a bomb in the living room. Priscilla snapped her head to look at me, her eyes wide with shock. I gestured for her to stay calm. The relatives immediately began whispering. They looked like a school of piranhas smelling blood in the water. “Twenty-five years ago, when we did IVF…” Brandon paused, pretending it was hard to talk about. “The doctor said Angel’s eggs were of terrible quality.” “To spare her the heartbreak of not being able to be a mother, I secretly switched her eggs with Georgina’s…” What a joke. This pathetic man had committed medical fraud, and now he was trying to paint himself as a saint while throwing mud at me! Brandon shot me a malicious look, clearly expecting me to lose my mind and scream. But I remained completely calm. He had no choice but to keep playing his part. “I called you all here today to witness…” He looked deeply into Georgina’s eyes. “…Priscilla finally recognizing her birth mother.” The room erupted. “If Priscilla isn’t Angel’s daughter, she has to recognize her real mother!” “Exactly! Angel couldn’t even get pregnant, yet she’s been holding onto the Williams family name all these years!” “She’s been controlling the Williams Group assets for decades.” “Now that the truth is out, she should step down from the board immediately!” Listening to their chatter, I felt nothing but amusement. These greedy relatives had been stripped of their management power by me over the years. They could only live off their yearly dividends, which made them hate me. Now, they were thrilled to watch Brandon ruin me so they could swoop in and grab a piece of the company. Priscilla saw the naked greed in their eyes and tightened her grip on my hand. I spoke up. “I gave birth to Priscilla. She is my daughter, and she always will be.” My voice was quiet, but it commanded the room. Georgina put on a helpless, tearful face. “How long are you going to keep lying to yourself, Angel?” 3. I wasn’t lying to myself. Priscilla was indeed my biological child. Did Brandon and Georgina really think they had fooled me? Twenty-five years ago, Brandon had a low sperm count, and we decided to try IVF. Before the embryos were fused, I caught him and a corrupt nurse tampering with my egg storage locker. I even overheard him excitedly calling Georgina, telling her that her eggs had been successfully swapped in. I didn’t make a scene. Instead, I quietly handed the doctor a million dollars to put my actual eggs back in. And as a little “gift,” I had the doctor swap Brandon’s sperm with my ex-boyfriend Cooper’s. On the day of the embryo fusion, Brandon and I stood together and witnessed the “miracle.” He was practically glowing with joy, thinking it was his and Georgina’s baby. I remember looking at his stupid, smiling face and laughing hysterically on the inside. For twenty-five years, I watched him dote on Priscilla like a clown, thinking he was raising his dream child with his mistress. It was the best entertainment of my life. Brandon snapped me out of my memories, sneering at me. “You can deny it all you want, Angel. Priscilla might have come out of your womb, but those weren’t your eggs!” “Georgina is her biological mother.” My tone was completely flat. “Are you dreaming?” “If you don’t believe me, we can do a DNA test right now!” Brandon snapped. “And I’m divorcing you!” “I was forced to marry you. I’ve spent twenty-five years with you, and I have done more than enough for you!” When he demanded the divorce, a flash of pure joy crossed his face. He had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. He did “more than enough” for me? I was married to him for twenty-five years, and I lived like a widow for twenty-five years. While I was raising our child alone, he was out spending romantic nights with Georgina. While I was working myself to the bone to keep the Williams Group alive, he was wasting family money in nightclubs. But he was wrong about one thing. I only married him to get the Williams name and take control of the family empire. And now, the Williams Group was entirely under my control. Brandon had officially outlived his usefulness. “Divorce is fine with me,” I shrugged. “But a DNA test isn’t necessary. I am 100% sure Priscilla is my daughter.” Priscilla looked at me, her eyes steady. “I believe you, Mom.” Brandon and Georgina panicked. “Priscilla, don’t you believe your own father?” Priscilla ignored him, keeping close to my side. Just then, a young man who looked about college-aged burst through the front door. He marched straight up to Priscilla and called out excitedly, “Priscilla!” Everyone in the room froze. 4. Looking at the boy, who shared a striking resemblance to Georgina, I immediately knew who he was. This had to be Brandon and Georgina’s secret love child. They had kept him hidden well. I hadn’t noticed his existence for over two decades. This drama was getting even better than I expected. Betty, sitting at the head of the room, looked at the boy with cold authority. “Brandon, what is the meaning of this?” The atmosphere in the room turned to ice. The boy’s eyes were red, and he looked like he was about to cry. “Priscilla, my name is Miles. I… I’ve always known about you.” He spoke with a slight stutter, his voice trembling. He peeked at me fearfully and then quickly looked down, as if he was terrified of me. “My mom… she always talked about you. She said you were so smart, so beautiful…” Georgina sobbed on cue, burying her face in a handkerchief. “Priscilla, I have missed you so much all these years…” She looked up with tear-filled eyes, playing the victim perfectly. “Miles… he missed you too. We used to spy on you from afar just to catch a glimpse…” Miles nodded quickly, eager to prove himself. “It’s true! Priscilla, I even transferred to your university just to… to be closer to you…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick stack of photos, handing them to Priscilla. “These are photos of you. I… I took them secretly…” Priscilla took the photos and flipped through them. There were photos of her in her graduation gown, laughing with friends. Photos of her looking exhausted after dance practice. Photos of her passionately debating in a lecture hall. Priscilla’s skin crawled. The realization that a creepy stalker had been watching and photographing her for years made her feel sick to her stomach. Brandon didn’t waste any time. He stepped in front of Betty, pointing at Miles. “Mom, this is a true Williams grandson!” “With all our relatives here today to witness, please… let him join the family!” Brandon thought he was being clever. He knew that since his father’s passing, Betty held the real power in the family. By inviting all the relatives, he was trying to pressure Betty into accepting the boy. He was sure that if Betty agreed to let Miles join the family, I wouldn’t be able to say anything. After all, for twenty-five years, he had watched me treat Betty with absolute respect and obedience. Miles was quick. He immediately turned to Betty and said respectfully, “Grandmother!” Betty looked at Miles, then at me. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions, and she didn’t answer him. I knew Betty cared about me. I didn’t want to make things difficult for her, so I broke the silence. “Brandon, your real goal is to bring this illegitimate son home to inherit the Williams fortune, isn’t it? Why drag Priscilla into your pathetic scheme?”

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After seven years of dating, Andrew and I were finally getting married. I was enthusiastically planning our wedding, only to find out our venue had been double-booked. My dream venue had been snatched away. When I complained to Andrew in frustration, he ruthlessly cut me off. “Are you done whining? It’s just a venue. If this one doesn’t work, we’ll just find another one.” I stared at Andrew in utter shock, completely blindsided by his sudden attitude. After that day, he stopped reaching out to me. Whenever I called, his only response was a cold, “I’m busy.” Ten days before the wedding, I went to his office to surprise him. That was when I heard his voice drifting from inside the room: “I promise you, Chloe. On the wedding day, all the guests will be at that venue. She will be the only bride standing there.” “I didn’t change the address on the invitations.” I froze in the hallway, my heart dropping into my stomach. So, it wasn’t a double-booked venue. It was a double-booked groom.

I walked home like a ghost. My mind was such a mess that I kept bumping into pedestrians along the street. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, crazy!” “Is she blind? What a freak!” “If you don’t need your eyes, donate them!” I stiffened, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah… I must be blind.” The rude passerby gave me a weird look and quickly walked away without another word. They probably thought I was insane, but I didn’t care to explain. Suddenly, the sky opened up. Heavy rain poured down, soaking me to the bone in seconds. But I felt nothing. The icy water mingled with the tears rolling down my cheeks. By midnight, I had developed a raging fever. As I lay shivering in bed, my phone buzzed. It was Andrew. “Audrey, can you bring some hangover pills to the club for me? These guys are totally wasting me.” My body went rigid. Out of habit, I almost stood up to search the medicine cabinet. But then reality hit me. I stopped myself. “Sorry, I have a fever. I can’t go.” There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by some loud teasing in the background: “Looks like you lost, Andrew! Guess you’ll have to buy your own hangover pills.” The sweet, giggling voice sounded incredibly familiar. It was Chloe. I let out a cold sneer, and Andrew hung up immediately. In the middle of the night, Andrew stumbled into the apartment, smelling heavily of tequila. He violently pulled me up from my sleep. “Are you out of your mind? I was getting hammered by my friends, and you made up some lame excuse about a fever just to avoid coming?” “Do you even care about me anymore?!” The suffocating smell of alcohol snapped me fully awake. I held my throbbing forehead, trying my best to stay steady. “I told you. I have a fever.” My flat, serious tone finally made Andrew look at my face. My bright red, flushed cheeks spoke for themselves. He went quiet for a second, then muttered, “Sorry. I’ll sleep in the study.” I scoffed and fell back onto the mattress. There was no way I could sleep now. Soon, I heard muffled laughter and whispers coming from the study next door. It was loud and humiliating. I stayed awake all night. The next morning, Andrew walked out of the study looking refreshed, with Chloe right behind him. The moment Andrew saw me, his smile froze. He instinctively took a step away from Chloe. “Morning.” “The party ended too late last night, and Chloe lost her keys. So I brought her back here.” I just nodded, stepping aside to head toward the front door. Andrew grabbed my wrist. I looked at him, confused. He stammered, “Where are you going? Aren’t we supposed to go dress shopping today?” I paused, then turned to him with a smile. “Why don’t you two go instead? I have some urgent stuff to handle at the office.” Andrew visibly let out a sigh of relief. His smile became genuine. “Alright then. Chloe has amazing taste. She’ll make sure we get the perfect dress.” “Sure,” I replied softly. The moment I left the apartment, I sent a Snapchat blast to Andrew’s family and friends, informing them of the venue change. Then, I texted my own family and friends that the wedding was canceled. After that, I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to explain myself to anyone. I immediately drove to the agency to finalize my passport and visa. I had been accepted into a prestigious exchange program in London months ago. Initially, because we were getting married, I didn’t want to be away from Andrew for so long, so I had put it on hold. But now that the wedding was dead, I was absolutely not giving up this opportunity. When I stepped out of the government building, I saw Andrew and Chloe coming out of the City Hall next door. Both of them were beaming with joy. But the moment Andrew’s eyes met mine, he froze. “What… what are you doing here?” he asked, panic flaring in his eyes. He looked incredibly guilty, his gaze darting away from me.

Chloe reached out, wrapping her arm tightly around Andrew’s. She looked at me with a smug, victorious smile. “Andrew came to help me take care of some paperwork.” I gave her a flat look. “Congratulations.” Andrew tried to step forward to explain, but his hand grabbed empty air. “Audrey!” I didn’t stop. I quickened my pace and walked away. That evening, Andrew brought Chloe back to our apartment again. I looked at them calmly. “Do you want me to vacate the master bedroom for you guys? I doubt the study is comfortable enough for two.” My words clearly struck a nerve. Andrew’s face turned incredibly ugly. “Audrey! Do you have to be so damn sarcastic?” “Since when did you become like this?” “You’re acting like a hysterical psycho!” I almost laughed out loud. I hadn’t cried, I hadn’t made a scene, yet the label of a “psycho” was already slapped onto my head. I pointed at my forehead and smiled. “Well, you’ve thrown so many labels at me, I’m starting to lose track of who I’m supposed to be.” Andrew looked uncomfortable for a split second, but then his anger flared. He violently pushed my shoulder. “Don’t get cocky with me! Don’t forget, this is my apartment!” “I pay for your food, your drinks, and your rent! And you dare speak to me like that?” “Get out! Get the hell out of my house!” He shoved me toward the door, not even giving me a chance to grab my phone. Before I could even process what was happening, the heavy door slammed shut in my face. “Andrew! Give me my phone!” I pounded on the door frantically, but it never opened again. The autumn air was freezing. I rubbed my arms as goosebumps broke out all over my skin. This was the city I grew up in, yet at this moment, I was entirely homeless. Without a single penny or a phone, I had no choice but to walk all the way to my office. By the time I reached my desk, I was utterly exhausted. I collapsed onto the table and fell asleep. The next morning, with the help of a coworker, I bought a cheap replacement phone and dialed Andrew’s number. He didn’t answer. Instead, Chloe’s voice came through the speaker: “Andrew, it’s an unknown number.” Andrew’s impatient voice echoed in the background: “Just hang up if you don’t know who it is.” But Chloe didn’t hang up. She probably guessed it was me. “Andrew, maybe you should go apologize to Audrey?” “She’s a girl, after all. She needs to save some face…” What a manipulative little snake. I let out a soft laugh. It was such a cheap trick. But Andrew’s response still managed to completely freeze the blood in my veins. “Why should I care about her? She has nowhere else to go in this city anyway.” “She doesn’t even have her phone.” “It won’t take long before she crawls back and begs for my forgiveness.” The line went dead. I stood there, staring blankly at my phone. So, he knew. He knew I had nothing, and he did it anyway. I let out a bitter laugh. I thought my heart was already numb, but it still managed to ache. I immediately redialed the number. “Why are you still calling? Didn’t you hear what he just said?” Chloe’s annoyed voice filled my ear. “Have you no shame? Why do you keep throwing yourself at Andrew? Don’t you get how pathetic you are?” I ignored her insults. I smiled faintly. “Let’s meet. I have something I want to give you.” Chloe sounded suspicious. After a moment of hesitation, her greed got the better of her. “Fine. Meet me at the Starbucks on the South Side.” I hung up and headed out immediately. But when the time came, Chloe didn’t show up.

“Audrey! Are you trying to bully Chloe again?!” “I told you a thousand times, there’s nothing going on between us! Why do you keep harassing her?!” Andrew’s furious voice roared behind me, followed by a stinging slap across my face. My cheek burned with sharp pain. I looked at him, letting out a mocking laugh. He felt completely like a stranger now. “Hitting me without even asking what happened? Is this how your prestigious family raised you?” Andrew’s face drained of color. He bit his lip, seemingly unable to find a comeback. Since Chloe didn’t show up, there was no point in keeping the truth to myself anymore. “If I wanted to harass her, would I have called your phone?” “Could I have predicted she would answer? Don’t make me laugh.” I took a step toward him, forcing him to look into my eyes. His expression crumbled, and he took a step back. I found the whole thing incredibly pathetic. I turned around and walked away. Andrew didn’t contact me again, but the wedding day was fast approaching. With only one day left, he sent someone to deliver a necklace to my office. There was no wrapping, no box. Just a bare, tarnished silver necklace. “Didn’t you always want this necklace? I bought it back for you.” Andrew’s text read. I found it hilarious. I called him and said, “Andrew, if you think I’m going to cherish a secondhand piece of trash that was stolen by Chloe first, you are sorely underestimating me.” Andrew sounded guilty, his voice cracking. “Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of nothing?” “You got the thing you wanted, and I’m still by your side. What more do you want?” “After tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife.” I smiled mockingly. “I see.” That was all I said before hanging up. “Where have you been staying these past few days? You couldn’t possibly…” He suddenly called back, his voice laced with a strange anxiety. For a moment, I felt a deep, piercing humiliation. Anger flared in my chest. “Andrew! If you knew I had nowhere to go, why did you kick me out in the first place?!” “Did you really think…” He dodged the question, murmuring guiltily, “I thought you’d give in and apologize after half a day.” At that moment, I was just so tired. “Forget it.” I hung up and blocked his number. When I walked down to the lobby of my office building, an unwelcome guest was already waiting for me. “Audrey.” I turned and saw Chloe. “Did you get the necklace?” “Consider it a little compensation from Andrew and me. Weren’t you dying to have it?” I looked at Chloe. Around her neck hung the Heart of the Ocean—a blue diamond necklace worth millions that had recently been auctioned off. Noticing my gaze, Chloe raised her chin proudly, running her fingers over the massive diamond. “Andrew said you liked that cheap silver thing, so he used this multi-million dollar diamond to trade for it with me.” Her tone was dripping with smug satisfaction. I laughed. “It’s just trash. Keep it for yourself.” Chloe’s face twisted in rage, but I walked right past her. The next day, I boarded my flight to London. I ignored the dozens of missed calls from Andrew and Chloe. But just as I was about to pass through the boarding gate, a violent force slammed me to the ground. “You skipped our wedding just to run away?!”

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I spent ten years of my life building this company from a shaky garage startup into an industry giant. But when the layoffs came, I was the first one kicked out the door. Our agreed-upon $500,000 severance package? It magically turned into two scratch-off lottery tickets. Suppressing my boiling anger, I confronted Chloe, our HR director. She just crossed her arms and sneered. “You crashed our biggest client’s server last month, Ethan. You technically owe this company two million dollars in damages.” “Rachel was generous enough not to throw your ass in federal prison. You should be thanking her.” “Severance? Please. Go out and ask around. You have a massive black mark on your record now. What tech company would ever hire a screw-up like you?” In that exact second, I realized what was happening. She was talking about last month’s server crash—the one I took the fall for to protect the company’s new, well-connected golden boy. And the CEO she was referring to—Rachel—was my wife of ten years. The woman who slept in my bed every night. I didn’t argue. I slowly picked up the humiliating termination agreement, spun on my heel, and walked out. What they didn’t know was that I had already been recruited by the SEC. And every single piece of evidence showing how they framed me? I had already packed it up and downloaded it. A month later, at the company’s annual shareholder audit, I kicked the double doors open, flanked by a dozen federal agents. Rachel fell to her knees before me, her body trembling as she begged me to spare her company. I took a half-step back, my eyes cold. “I’d love to give you a break, Rachel. But unfortunately, the federal prosecutor in charge of your case isn’t feeling very merciful today.”

The moment the layoff rumors leaked, panic spread through the department like wildfire. The entire office was suffocating under a thick blanket of anxiety. My colleague, Liam, slid his chair over to my desk and clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Ethan, man, why do you look so stressed? Even if they fire the entire building, they’d never touch you.” “You’re the backbone of this place. We all know this company is only standing because of your code.” “As for me, I’m probably toast. But hey, at least I got to work with a legend like you.” His voice was filled with genuine respect, and several other senior developers nodded in agreement. I forced a faint smile. In truth, the company was indeed my baby. During our startup days, the servers would crash every other day. I literally slept on a cot in the server room for a month straight, stabilizing the platform line by line. Just before Christmas last year, our core database suffered a catastrophic failure. I was hooked up to an IV in a hospital bed, recovering from an emergency appendectomy. High on painkillers, I worked remotely for three straight days to pull our data back from the brink of total destruction. Besides, the CEO was my wife, Rachel. There was no universe in which I’d be on a layoff list. While I was trying to calm the team down, Chloe, the HR director, walked into the open office holding a stack of folders. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on me. She rolled them dramatically. “Ethan. My office. Now.” The entire room went dead silent. My colleagues looked at one another in confusion, though most of them assumed I was being called in for a massive promotion. Under their intense, disbelieving stares, I stood up and calmly walked into her office. Before I could even sit down, Chloe slid a termination agreement across the desk with an impatient sigh. After a brief flash of shock, I laughed. Classic Rachel. She was trying to pull a surprise on me. A few days ago, I had jokingly complained that I was getting too tired to write code anymore. Rachel had given me a mysterious smile and told me to wait three days. I figured she was just looking out for me. After ten years of running myself into the ground, she probably wanted to “fire” me so I could finally rest, take a massive payout, and enjoy life. Plus, I had recently accepted an offer to join the SEC’s cyber-forensics division, though I hadn’t had the chance to tell her yet. This worked out perfectly. Now I could actually spend some quality time with her. But when I picked up the pen to sign, my eyes caught the severance section. It was completely blank. And under the “Financial Liabilities” section, there was a paragraph in bold, aggressive font: “Due to gross negligence by the employee, Ethan, resulting in direct financial damages to the company estimated at $2,000,000, the employee agrees to assume full personal liability for the debt.” I froze. Two million? Personal liability? Me? I slowly pushed the contract back toward her, my voice turning icy. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this? Where is my severance?” Chloe leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh, cut the act, Ethan. We’re both adults here. Why play dumb?” “Last month, the core database for our biggest client crashed under your watch. We lost their data, and it cost us a two-million-dollar contract.” “The company didn’t call the FBI on you, which is already a miracle. And you actually have the audacity to ask for money?” The puzzle pieces clicked together instantly. The “screw-up” she was talking about wasn’t mine. It belonged to Jackson, Rachel’s “nephew.” To hit a ridiculous deadline, Jackson had bypassed every single testing protocol and forced a buggy, unverified codebase directly into production. I had tried to stop him, but Rachel shut me down, claiming we needed to “let the younger generation show their potential.” After the crash, Rachel had practically begged me. She cried in our kitchen, asking me to take the fall temporary to protect the kid’s career, promising she would make it up to me. So this was her way of “making it up to me.” I stared at Chloe and said coldly, “The server logs clearly show the crash was caused by database modifications made from Jackson’s terminal. This had nothing to do with me.” Chloe didn’t understand a thing about server logs. All she knew was that Rachel wanted me gone. She tilted her chin up arrogantly. “I don’t care about your nerd talk, Ethan. The liability assessment sheet has your signature on it. The company says it’s your fault, so it’s your fault.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sign this. Otherwise…” “I’ll post your name and what you did in the national HR WhatsApp groups. Good luck finding a job when every recruiter in the country knows you’re a saboteur.” Disgusted by her petty power trip, I didn’t say another word. I folded the liability agreement and the termination papers, slipping them quietly into my jacket pocket. Fine. If they wanted to play dirty, I didn’t need to hold back anymore.

I walked back to my desk, planning to message Rachel and ask what the hell she was thinking, when a notification popped up on the internal network. To save money on a transition, Rachel had locked my account but set a mandatory one-month handover period where I was expected to train my replacement. I laughed out loud. It was so absurd it was almost funny. Furious, I marched straight toward the executive suite and threw the door open without knocking. The door swung open, and the sight inside made my blood instantly run cold. Rachel, my wife, was wrapped tightly around her “nephew,” Jackson. Jackson’s hands were gripped firmly around her waist, and she was giggling, pressing herself against his chest. Hearing the door slam, Rachel’s face flashed with panic for a split second before hardening into pure, irritated disgust. “Ethan! Do you have any concept of boundaries? Have you forgotten how to knock?!” Jackson’s hands didn’t move. In fact, he pulled her slightly closer, throwing me a smug, mocking look of pure triumph. Watching the woman I had shared a bed with for a decade laughing in another man’s arms felt like a physical blow to the chest. I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. “Rachel… is this the ‘surprise’ you promised me?” Rachel didn’t even bother to untangle herself from him. Instead, she casually fixed her collar. “Since you saw us, I don’t need to hide it anymore.” “Ethan, this company has carried you for ten years. We’ve been more than generous.” “Just sign the papers and get out. Let’s not make this uglier than it needs to be.” A dry, bitter laugh escaped my throat. This company carried me? What a joke. “Sign what? Sign an agreement where I owe you two million dollars?” “Rachel, we’ve been married for ten years. Is this really how you treat your husband?” “Have you forgotten how you cried and begged me in our kitchen last month? You said Jackson was young, that he couldn’t have his career ruined by a mistake. You begged me to take the heat.” “You promised you’d clear my name once his probation was over. And now you’re using it to ruin me?” Jackson sneered, pointing a finger at my face. “Shut up, Ethan! Who do you think you are, yelling at her?” “The damage you caused is written in black and white! You signed the papers, you took the blame. Paying the company back is just fair game!” “And yeah, I let you take the fall. So what? You’re just a washed-up, middle-aged coder. What are you going to do about it?” Looking at Rachel, she seemed like an absolute stranger. Any lingering affection I had for her vanished into thin air. “Fine. Keep your two million. I’m done with this garbage company.” Rachel didn’t look guilty at all. Instead, she flashed a victorious smirk, reached into her desk drawer, and threw another document onto the table. “Not so fast, Ethan. When you joined as our Lead Architect, you signed a key-man clause, remember?” “If a core technical employee voluntarily resigns before their ten-year term is up, they owe the company ten million dollars in liquidated damages.” “You want to leave? Sure. Write me a check for ten million, and I’ll process your resignation right now.” Jackson chimed in, laughing. “That’s right, Ethan. It’s on paper. Don’t tell us you’re broke!” Looking at the contract I had almost forgotten about, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. Back then, Rachel had handed me the contract, telling me it was just a formality for investors. She had promised me that once the company took off, we would share everything. I trusted her completely and signed it without reading the fine print. She had been plotting my downfall from the very beginning. When anger reaches a certain threshold, it turns into a terrifyingly cold calm. I took a deep breath, my mind clearing. “You really thought this through, Rachel. Fine. I’ll stay for the one-month transition period.” “But,” I stared directly into her cold eyes, “starting today, we are done. I want a divorce.” Rachel blinked, stunned for a second, before bursting into a mocking laugh. “Are you serious, Ethan?” “Without me, without this company, what are you? You think you can survive on your own?” “The moment we sign those divorce papers, I’m marrying Jackson. You’re going to be a broke, single loser in his late thirties.” Jackson smirked. “Yeah, Ethan. You’re pushing forty, buried in debt, and blacklisted in the industry. What are you going to do, beg? If you apologize to Rachel right now, maybe she’ll let you stay on as a janitor.” I looked at them, completely repulsed. I spun around and walked out of the office. Laugh all you want, I thought. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Over the next few weeks, Rachel and Jackson did everything they could to make my life a living hell. I didn’t know what lies they had fed the staff, but developers who used to treat me with absolute reverence now walked past me without making eye contact. Some even had the nerve to bark orders at me. The cold reality of corporate loyalty was on full display. Within days, my desk was moved to the furthest corner of the office, right next to the breakroom trash can that constantly reeked of spoiled food. Rachel called it “giving me a quiet space to focus on the handover.” Chloe brought over a stack of physical project archives from years ago, demanding that I manually digitize them and write detailed system documentations for each. I took one look at the files. Most of them were dead projects from defunct clients. It was purely busywork designed to break my spirit. They tried every petty trick in the book to make me snap and walk out. But to their frustration, I complied with everything. I showed up exactly at 9:00 AM, did the training sessions, and wrote the documentation. Whenever I ran into Rachel, she would look at me, searching for any sign of misery or defeat. But she found nothing. My face was a mask of absolute, terrifying calmness. Since she didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me break, Rachel decided to escalate. One afternoon, she called me into her office and threw a stack of financial ledger sheets on her desk. “Upload these entries into our active database,” she commanded. I picked up the sheets, scanned them quickly, and immediately frowned. “These are fake transaction records,” I said, putting the papers down. “You’re inflating your revenue to deceive your venture capital investors. This is wire fraud. I’m not doing it.” It wasn’t enough that she wanted me to take the fall for a server crash—now she wanted me to participate in federal crimes. Rachel’s face darkened instantly. “You are still an employee of this company, Ethan, and I am your boss! You do what I tell you to do, or you can start packing your bags for court!” I met her gaze, unflinching. “Being a boss doesn’t give you the legal authority to order an employee to commit a felony.” Jackson leaped up from the couch. “Don’t talk to us about the law! You’re lucky we’re even letting you work! Do the input, or we’ll find a dozen other ways to ruin your life!” I looked at Jackson, and a beautiful, wicked idea formed in my mind. I turned to him, putting on a look of mock confusion. “You know, Jackson… this kind of database entry is incredibly simple. Anyone with a month of basic coding experience could do it.” “If it’s so easy, why isn’t Rachel letting you handle it? Unless…” “You don’t actually know how to run a simple SQL script, do you?” “Are you really as incompetent as everyone in the office says you are?” The bait was set, and Jackson took it hook, line, and sinker. “Who the hell are you calling incompetent?!” he roared, his face turning red. I sighed dramatically, pulling a black flash drive from my pocket and tossing it onto the desk. “Fine. This USB contains a script I wrote. It will batch-process all the data automatically. Do whatever you want with it, just keep my name out of it.” Rachel and Jackson’s eyes lit up as they saw the drive. Smug, greedy smiles spread across their faces. Without another word, I turned and left. I knew exactly how greedy and stupid they were. Give them a tool to commit fraud easily, and they would abuse it until they destroyed themselves. Sure enough, three days later, Nick, a junior developer who was still friendly with me, approached my desk, looking pale and panicky. “Ethan… they’re going crazy,” he whispered, glancing around nervously. “They didn’t just modify the investor reports. They forged accounting books, inflated our costs by twenty million, and they’re routing international funds to wash the cash.” I smiled gently. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. Just keep your head down.”

Armed with the falsified data, they successfully closed a massive twenty-million-dollar investment round. To celebrate, Rachel booked the grand ballroom of a luxury five-star hotel downtown for a massive company gala. The entire office was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was talking about the party, but of course, I was the only one who didn’t receive an invitation. I didn’t care. I went home after work, ordered a pizza, and went straight to sleep. But around 9:00 PM, my phone started buzzing violently. It was a WhatsApp message from Rachel. It was a long list of premium liquors and wines. “We ran out of these drinks at the party. Buy them and deliver them to the hotel ballroom immediately. Don’t ruin our celebration, or you’ll pay for it.” Without a second thought, I blocked her number. Five minutes later, my doorbell began ringing frantically. Rachel had actually sent three of our junior staff to my house to wake me up. Anger flared in my chest. They just don’t know when to stop, do they? I grabbed my keys, got into my car, and drove straight to the hotel. When I entered the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was loud and alcohol-fueled. A loud cheer erupted from the main VIP table. I looked up. Under the glittering chandeliers, Rachel was standing on a raised platform, her face flushed red from champagne. Suddenly, Jackson grabbed her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately right on the lips. Instead of pulling away, Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the kiss in front of the entire company. They were kissing like starved teenagers, completely ignoring the fact that her actual husband was standing right there in the room. To everyone else, I was the ultimate cuckold, forced to watch my wife parade her young lover. But I didn’t feel anger. All I felt was a profound sense of absurdity and relief. This woman had absolutely no bottom line left. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was my divorce attorney. “Ethan, the asset protection filings are ready. Do you have proof of her infidelity?” I pulled out my phone, quietly recorded a crisp, high-definition video of them making out on stage, and hit send. Then, I opened my secure email app. Time remaining until the SEC federal audit authorization goes live: 1 day, 8 hours, and 22 minutes. I took a deep breath, memorizing their smug faces one last time. Enjoy it while you can, Rachel. On my last official day, I calmly signed my exit paperwork. I had been home for less than thirty minutes when my phone started ringing off the hook from an unknown number. I picked up, and Rachel’s hysterical scream blasted through the speaker. “Ethan! Where the hell are you?! Get your ass back to the office right now! The investors are here!” “They found out the database records are completely fabricated! You gave us that USB drive! You have to come back and fix this right now!” I had anticipated this. I didn’t say a word and hung up, immediately blocking the new number. It was hilarious. When they made twenty million, they didn’t think of me. But the moment the ship started sinking, they wanted me to plug the leak. But the real comedy was just beginning. Ten minutes later, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find three solemn-looking police officers standing on my porch. “Are you Ethan? We received a report that you are primary suspect in a massive financial fraud and corporate data sabotage. Please come with us.”

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