Category: English

Six years after splitting up with my ex-boyfriend, Caleb, I ran into him at our college reunion. He publicly announced his engagement to Brianna, a younger alumna from his university. The entire private room was waiting for me—his ex-girlfriend—to cause a scene. But I didn’t argue or make a fuss. I even gave them a thousand-dollar gift. Caleb, however, lowered his voice and explained: “It’s been six years—haven’t you had enough drama? I’m just helping Brianna handle her parents; once this is over, I’ll marry you.” But later, when he found out I was already married with a child, he broke down in tears, begging desperately for me to take him back. Inside the private room, everyone stared in shock at my reaction to giving the gift. They all knew I’d been head over heels for Caleb and couldn’t stand seeing him with Brianna. Back then, even catching them having dinner together would send me into a jealous rage. But soon, the other alumni—eager for more drama—started egging us on. Some called me generous; others praised my “undying affection,” especially for shelling out a thousand bucks for an ex-boyfriend’s engagement. Egged on by their comments, Brianna smirked, a triumphant glint in her eyes. Caleb, though, frowned deeply, his expression unreadable. After a minute, he pulled me aside, his voice dropping. “Aubrey, it’s been six years—haven’t you had enough of this drama?” “Brianna and I are just going through the motions. Her parents have been pressuring her to get married…” “This is the last time I’ll help her. Once this is done, I’m all yours.” Hearing Caleb say this, I had to bite back a laugh. I’d lost track of how many times I’d heard those exact words. Back in the day, every time Caleb got close to Brianna, he’d lie to me—promising to cook for me or swearing he’d marry me someday. And I, like a fool, bought into it every single time. But now, I was done falling for his lies. Besides, we were broken up. Whether he married Brianna or not—what did it matter to me? Thinking this, I subtly pulled my hand away, my voice neutral. “Caleb, we’ve already broken up. You don’t owe me any explanations.” Caleb froze, then his expression instantly hardened. “Broken up? We’ve just been in a rough patch all these years, haven’t we?” I almost laughed. What kind of rough patch lasts six years? The truth was, six years ago, I’d already blocked and deleted him. I’d even sent him a breakup email and moved all my stuff out of our apartment. If he’d paid any attention at all, he would’ve noticed something was up. Plus, for the past six years, all our mutual friends had quietly accepted we were over. Only he was still living in denial. At that thought, I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I scoffed and turned to leave. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve skipped the reunion altogether. I’d barely stepped out of the private room when Brianna and Caleb came rushing after me. Brianna hurried ahead, blocking my path with a fake concerned look. “Aubrey, the reunion’s going great—why leave so suddenly?” “Are you still upset about what happened six years ago? If it bothers you that much, I can apologize.” She deliberately emphasized “six years ago.” Caleb’s face immediately darkened. He instinctively pulled Brianna behind him, giving me a cold glare. “Aubrey, why are you being so petty? Can’t you let go of something so trivial after all this time?” I found that laughable. So in his eyes, my child was just some trivial “thing”? Six years ago, when I was newly pregnant and emotionally fragile, Caleb bailed on me just because Brianna said she was “feeling down and needed company.” Despite my pleas, he insisted on going to her. We got into a huge fight over the phone—he called me “immature” and “unsupportive.” In my distress, I started having severe abdominal pain and had to be rushed to the ER. I lost the baby. And when I needed him most, he was by Brianna’s side, comforting her and telling her not to “feel guilty.” I lay alone in the hospital for three days. By the time I was discharged, my heart was shattered. I calmly canceled all our wedding plans over the phone. After that, the physical and emotional trauma made me seriously ill. During all this, Caleb never visited me once. He was too busy doting on Brianna—even staying overnight to take care of “poor guilty” Brianna. She even posted cryptic Instagram stories, making me the joke of everyone we knew. That was the 99th time Caleb chose her over me. That’s when I finally gave up. I took an overseas job transfer and left the country. That was six years ago. Now Brianna was picking at those old scars, trying to get a rise out of me. Back then, I would’ve exploded. But today? She was going to be disappointed. Thinking this, I kept my voice steady. “There’s nothing to be upset about. Caleb and I ended things six years ago. Besides, I’m doing really well now.” But Brianna was sure I was seething. She put on a concerned face and explained, “Aubrey, don’t get the wrong idea. Caleb and I—our engagement’s just an act to please my parents.” “If it bothers you that much, I could still call off the engagement party…” Before she could finish, Caleb cut her off. “No, Brianna! We’ve already invited everyone—canceling last minute would humiliate you!” I almost laughed out loud. So Caleb cared about Brianna’s embarrassment if the engagement party got canceled? But he never once thought about mine? He knew my miscarriage and canceled wedding would leave me humiliated—yet he still chose her, leaving me to face the physical pain, emotional wreckage, and public shame all alone… Sensing my disgusted look, Caleb froze, his lips pressing into a tight line. He quickly softened his tone, explaining, “Aubrey, Brianna needs me. I can’t just walk away from her…” Brianna played the martyr too, dramatically sliding the engagement ring off her finger and offering it to me with fake sincerity. “Aubrey, this ring was always meant for you. Now that you’re back, I should return it to its rightful owner.” She was putting on a show of generosity, but really, she was flaunting her victory. Caleb glanced at the ring, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “Aubrey, I had this custom-made for you, remember?” It was true he’d commissioned the ring for me—but I’d never worn it. The second Brianna mentioned liking it, he’d given her my custom ring without a second thought. And she’d worn it every day since. I scoffed and swatted the diamond ring into a nearby trash can. “I don’t want something another woman’s already worn.” With that, I turned to leave—no more energy for their games. Caleb’s expression flickered, and he lunged forward to grab my arm. “Aubrey, wait!” As he grabbed me, his hand brushed against something hard. He let go, staring in shock at the wedding ring glinting on my finger. Caleb froze, rooted to the spot. “A wedding ring? You… you’re married?”

I didn’t deny it—after all, I was married. At my silent confirmation, Caleb’s eyes went wide. He stared at me in disbelief, his intense gaze practically burning holes through me. Brianna paused, then sneered passive-aggressively, “Aubrey, that ring looks totally fake. You didn’t get scammed, did you?” “Besides, when did you even get married? Why didn’t we hear anything about it?” At her words, Caleb visibly relaxed, then smirked. “Aubrey, I knew it! Who else would ever want you besides me?” “Alright, I get it. You’re just doing this to get my attention, to make me marry you, right?” “I promise, after I help Brianna this time, we’ll get married. Deal?” I recognized this olive branch for what it was—Caleb’s typical arrogant attempt at reconciliation, like he was doing me a favor. He’d always been this way: whenever I got upset, he’d dangle false hope and empty promises to pacify me. For six years, I’d dreamed of marrying Caleb. Every birthday wish was for him to be my husband. And he knew it—so he used marriage as leverage, manipulating me into giving in, compromising, forgiving. Whenever he offered one of these “olive branches,” no matter how angry I was, I’d take it. I didn’t want to rock the boat. But now? We were broken up. Why should I care about his feelings anymore? I pretended not to hear him, not even bothering to glance his way. When I didn’t jump to respond like I used to—when I just looked completely indifferent, refusing to give him the satisfaction—Caleb’s frown turned to a scowl. He grabbed my arm, his voice sharp. “Aubrey, why are you ignoring me? I just agreed to marry you—what more do you want?” I kept my voice icy. “Do whatever you want, but don’t stop me from getting back to my husband and child. Move.” With that, I wrenched my arm free and walked away. Caleb panicked. “Aubrey, what are you talking about? Explain!” He started to chase me, but Brianna immediately clutched her head and crouched down, feigning pain as she grabbed his shirt. “Caleb, my head hurts so bad…” Caleb stopped short, rushing to Brianna’s side with a concerned look. “Brianna, what’s wrong? Did you have too much to drink earlier?” “Aubrey, Brianna’s really drunk—I’m taking her to a nearby hotel to rest…” As he spoke, Caleb shot me a guilty glance, like he was looking for my permission. I almost laughed. Was he actually explaining himself to me? Before he could finish, I cut him off sharply. “Go then. You don’t need my approval. Remember? We broke up years ago.” Caleb froze, clearly thrown by my reaction. Back in the day, finding out he’d be alone with Brianna in a room would’ve sent me into a jealous rage, begging him not to go. But that was when I loved him, when I cared. Now that I was over him? Who he hooked up with didn’t matter one bit. At my words, Caleb’s voice picked up, his breathing growing uneven. “Aubrey… Brianna and me, alone in a hotel… you’re not even worried?” I knew exactly what he wanted—for me to stop him, to beg like I used to, to lose all my pride. I’d done that before, only to be called controlling and petty, accused of having a “dirty mind.” Now that I was giving him exactly what he’d always claimed to want, why was he upset? I met Caleb’s eyes with a cold smile. “You’re my ex. Why would I care?” Caleb’s face turned pale. He opened his mouth to speak, but Brianna cut in, whining loudly about her headache. Caleb finally turned back to her, helping her stand while shooting me a bitter look. “You said it, Aubrey. Don’t come crying to me later.” “Come on, Brianna, I’m taking you to the hotel!” With that, Caleb stormed off, still fuming as he helped Brianna away. I knew his game—he was trying to get a rise out of me, just like old times. He’d act cozy with Brianna, hoping I’d get jealous and come crawling back. But this time, I turned and walked away without a second glance, heading straight to the hotel to meet my husband and daughter. I’d only gone to the reunion as an afterthought—the real reason for the trip was a family vacation with my husband and daughter. Honestly, I should thank Caleb. If he hadn’t pushed me away six years ago, I never would’ve met my husband Liam, or had our sweet daughter Lily. Liam and I met on the streets of Paris. I was hurt and heartbroken, wandering aimlessly when I accidentally bumped into him. I apologized immediately. When he heard my story, he didn’t just brush it off—he bought me a warm cup of milk tea and told me life was still worth living. We exchanged numbers, and he became my sounding board. Unlike Caleb, Liam always greeted me with a smile, gentle and thoughtful. With his support, I slowly pulled myself out of that dark place. Before long, we were dating, then engaged, then Lily came along. All these years, he and Lily have been my reason to keep going. Just thinking about seeing them soon put a spring in my step. But of course, fate had other plans—I ran into Caleb and Brianna the second I walked into the hotel. They were staying there too. Caleb froze when he saw me. “What are you doing here?” Brianna immediately started stirring the pot. “Caleb, Aubrey must’ve realized she messed up! She followed you here to apologize!” Caleb’s eyes lit up. A small smile tugged at his lips, but his tone stayed arrogant. “Aubrey, weren’t you so tough earlier? What, changed your mind already? Followed us all the way here?” “But since you’re clearly sorry, I might just forgive you—if you apologize first.” Caleb’s narcissism was honestly revolting. I scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just staying here.” Caleb snorted, clearly not buying it. “This is a couples’ resort. You’re staying here alone? Who are you trying to kid?” I was about to answer when the door behind me opened. Liam stepped out, giving me a warm smile. “Hey honey, you’re back.”

“What? Honey? He called you honey?!” Caleb froze, his voice shaking. When he spotted the matching wedding ring on Liam’s finger, his face went ashen. “A wedding ring… Aubrey, you actually got married?!” But just as quickly, Caleb’s cold arrogance returned. He looked Liam up and down with disdain. “You’re Aubrey’s husband? You don’t look like much.” “So what if you’re married? How long have you even been together? Eighteen years of history with Aubrey—you can’t compete with that.” “Aubrey’s always loved me most. She’s just using you to pass the time.” “She left the country because we were fighting. She picked you on a rebound. You’re just the consolation prize.” “Why else would she come back? It’s obviously for me.” “Mark my words—she’ll come back to me eventually.” “I’d leave now if I were you. Save yourself the embarrassment when she dumps you.” I was at a loss for words—Caleb was truly repulsive. Liam looked at him like he was some kind of idiot. Even though he was clearly angry, he stayed calm and collected, the epitome of class. He walked over, wrapped an arm around my shoulders possessively, and smiled politely at Caleb. “Aubrey and you are history. I’m her husband now.” “And you’re just her ex. Nothing to worry about.” Liam delivered the cutting remark in the calmest tone possible. Caleb’s face turned crimson with rage. He raised his hand to hit Liam. “You’re just a placeholder! Aubrey’s always loved me most—who do you think you are?” Just as Caleb’s hand was about to connect with Liam’s face, I stepped in front of my husband and backhanded Caleb hard. “That’s enough, Caleb!” After hitting him, I immediately turned to Liam. “Honey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Caleb clutched his stinging cheek, staring at me in shock. When he saw me fussing over Liam instead of him, his eyes filled with tears of self-pity. “Aubrey, you hit me? You actually hit me for him?” “I waited for you all these years, and this is how you repay me? Do you even care what I’ve been through?” “I checked my phone every day, waiting for you to reach out! I couldn’t sleep at night, I missed you so much! And now you’re back, but you’re defending him?” “You promised you’d love me forever! What happened to that?” I rolled my eyes internally. The victim act was getting old. So now he knew what it felt like to be left waiting? All those nights I sat up until dawn, waiting for him to come home—only to find him with Brianna? Caleb misread my silence as doubt. His eyes lit up, and he grabbed my free hand. “Aubrey, I knew it! You’re just stringing him along—you still love me!” “We have years of history together. You can’t just throw that away.” “Here’s the deal: divorce him, and I’ll marry you. I’ll even overlook this… mistake with him.” “After we get married, we can have kids. Remember how much you always wanted children?” Kids? He had the nerve to mention kids? If he hadn’t been so cruel back then, I never would’ve lost our baby. And now he wanted to start a family? Please. Caleb took my silence for agreement. A grin spread across his face, his voice eager. “Aubrey, come back to me. We’ll have a baby, and be a happy little family…” I cut him off sharply before he could finish. “Not interested.” Caleb looked stunned. “Why not?” he pressed. I sneered, emphasizing each word. “Simple. I already have a daughter.” Caleb froze, then shook his head frantically. “No, that’s not possible. You loved me—how could you…” Before he could finish, a little girl came running out of the room and into my arms. “Mommy! Why aren’t you and Daddy coming in? I’ve been waiting forever!”

Caleb’s face went white as a sheet. “This kid… is she…” He seemed to realize, then immediately rejected the thought. “No, that can’t be! She’s not yours!” “Aubrey, this is all some kind of trick, right?” “You told me I was the only man you’d ever marry! How could you do this—marry someone else and have a kid?” Caleb stared at me, begging for denial. But I just stared back coldly. “Caleb, the second you chose Brianna over me, you lost any chance of being my husband.” Brianna, who’d been quiet, suddenly piped up with a fake smile. “Aubrey, your daughter’s already so big. When did you have her? Before you left the country?” It was obviously a lie, but Caleb ate it up. His face turned red with anger. “Aubrey, you two were together this whole time? Had a kid together?” “I knew it! That’s why you left without a word—because of *him*!” “How could you do this to me?” Hearing him insult my family made my blood boil. “This is my husband and daughter. Show some respect.” That only made him angrier. “Am I wrong? He’s just some homewrecker!” I was ready to snap, but Lily beat me to it. She wriggled out of my arms and ran at Caleb, biting his hand and hitting him. “Don’t talk about my daddy like that! He’s not a bad guy!” “I hate you! Go away!” Caleb shoved Lily to the ground, enraged. “You little brat!” He raised his hand to hit her, but I tackled him away and scooped her up. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter! You’ve crossed the line!” Caleb stumbled back, hitting his elbow on the wall hard enough to draw blood. “That’s the second time you’ve attacked me for them!” he snarled. Brianna helped him up, shooting me a dirty look. “Aubrey, your kid started it! Why aren’t you punishing her instead of hitting Caleb?” “Look at him—he’s bleeding! You should be ashamed!” Brianna’s words pushed Caleb over the edge. His eyes went bloodshot as he pointed at us. “You did this on purpose! I’m calling the cops!” He pulled out his phone, hands shaking. The police showed up fast. Caleb immediately waved his injured hand at them, practically hysterical. “Officer, they attacked me on purpose! You have to arrest them!” Caleb sobbed as he twisted the story, claiming our whole family had ganged up on him. A crowd gathered quickly, whispering and staring as they listened to his act. I could feel their judgmental eyes on us. “How could anyone hit a kid like that!” “Pushing a little girl—disgraceful!” “There’s probably more to the story…” Caleb ate up the attention, sneering at me quietly. “You made me do this, Aubrey. But if you apologize and leave him, I’ll tell the cops it was all a misunderstanding…” Manipulating me, even now? I ignored him. Caleb huffed and crossed his arms, clearly enjoying watching me squirm. The officers, having heard his side, turned to me for my version. “Ms. Aubrey, Mr. Caleb claims you assaulted him. Is that accurate?” “No. Because Liam and I are legally married.” I pulled out our marriage certificate and handed it over. Caleb froze when he saw it, then scoffed. “That could be faked! Anyone can photoshop these things now!” But the officer just shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but this certificate checks out. They are legally married. Now you need to explain why you pushed their child.”

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Grandma Evelyn always said I was her favorite out of her seven grandchildren. Growing up, she gave me countless shoes, clothes, and books. But Grandma always claimed she couldn’t afford new things, so she’d pick up secondhand items for me instead. Mom and Dad would always say that even if they weren’t brand-new, it was the thought that counted with Grandma, so I always felt pressured to accept them graciously. Later, I graduated from college and landed an offer at a major company. The whole family threw a party to celebrate. At the party, Grandma handed me a laptop—another secondhand gift. In that moment, years of pent-up emotions suddenly hit me. I grabbed the device and smashed it hard on the floor: “Why is it always secondhand?!” My relatives immediately called me ungrateful. Grandma wiped away tears and softly said she wouldn’t come to our house anymore, so she wouldn’t embarrass me. I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked into my room, bringing out all the secondhand items she’d given me over the years, one by one. The room fell completely silent.

As soon as Grandma Evelyn walked in, she pressed a wallet into my hand and handed over a bag of treats, which Mom quickly took from her. Then she pulled another bag from her purse and gave it to me: “Sarah, Grandma got you a tablet. You can use it for work.” I took the bag, frozen for a moment. Mom gently nudged me from the side: “What are you staring at? Hurry and thank Grandma! Everything you’ve had since you were little—didn’t it all come from Grandma? Even if it’s secondhand…” Grandma Evelyn rubbed her hands together, smiling awkwardly and nervously: “Grandma doesn’t have much money, but if Sarah wants something, I want to get it for you.” I took the bag and sat aside, carefully opening the packaging. Sure enough, there was a tablet inside, with obvious signs of wear along the edges. I pressed the power button, and the screen lit up with a yellowish tint. I stared at it for a few seconds, then abruptly stuffed it back into the bag and slammed it down on the coffee table: “Are we so hard up that we can’t even afford new things? Why do I always have to get stuck with secondhand stuff?” The living room went dead silent, everyone freezing in place. Grandma Evelyn jumped to her feet, hands trembling slightly: “Oh honey, don’t you like it? Is it not working right?” I turned my head away, voice tight: “How much did this tablet cost? Please don’t waste your money on stuff like this anymore. Just give me cash, and I’ll buy something new myself.” “What on earth are you saying?!” Mom shot up. “That’s Grandma’s way of showing she cares!” “What good is this secondhand garbage?” I pushed the bag forward. “I need a proper computer for work. Don’t try to palm this off on me.” My relatives started murmuring among themselves. Uncle Mark shook his head: “Kids these days, so unappreciative.” Aunt Susan pursed her lips: “Tell me about it. When we were kids, we’d be thrilled to get a piece of candy. And she’s already starting her career, yet she’s still so clueless.” … Mom grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, ready to hurl it, but Grandma Evelyn quickly held her back. She gently took my hand, her voice very soft: “Sarah, don’t be upset. Grandma didn’t think this through… You’ve grown up now, you have your pride—you deserve new things.” Aunt Lisa chimed in from the side: “Mom, are you still coddling her? My son hasn’t even gotten any hand-me-downs from you!” Grandma Evelyn waved her off: “Alright, alright. Girls should be spoiled… I just didn’t realize Sarah’s got her pride now.” I looked at Aunt Lisa: “Then give this tablet to your son. Just give me the cash instead.” Aunt Lisa sputtered, turning red. She opened her mouth but said nothing. Mom rolled up her sleeves, ready to come at me again, but Grandma Evelyn quickly pulled her toward the kitchen: “Let’s make dinner first. Sarah must be hungry…” “Just wait till your dad gets home—he’ll straighten you out!” Mom turned and shot me a glare. Grandma Evelyn, still walking, murmured: “Grandma’ll make you ribs, your favorite when you were little…” “Don’t bother,” I cut her off. “I haven’t liked those in years.” Grandma Evelyn froze mid-step. She stood there for two seconds, then slowly walked back to the couch and sat down, a forced smile still on her face.

The relatives’ stares felt like daggers. Some shook their heads, others pressed their lips tight. Grandma Evelyn bowed her head slightly, twisting the hem of her shirt, her voice barely audible: “It’s fine, really… She’s just young.” I tuned out their muttering, sitting on the couch and playing with the wallet Grandma had given me. Feeling its weight, I suddenly noticed it was too thin. I opened it to find only a twenty-dollar bill inside. Fury flared up inside me. I stood up and threw the wallet at Grandma Evelyn’s feet: “What’s this supposed to be?” Uncle Mark immediately bent down, picked up the wallet, stood up, and snapped at me: “What’s your problem, Sarah? Is twenty bucks not enough for you?” Grandma Evelyn quickly took the wallet back from him, her trembling hand reaching into her pocket and pulling out three neatly folded twenty-dollar bills. She took out two bills, fingers shaking as she offered them to me: “Sarah, honey… Grandma only has sixty dollars on her. Will forty be okay? I still need bus fare to get home later…” I swatted the money out of her hand: “I don’t want it. You might as well give this to Aunt Lisa’s son.” Aunt Lisa suddenly stormed out of the kitchen: “Sarah, what’s your issue? I just made a comment—do you have to be so petty?” Mom also rushed over: “When did you get such an attitude!” The relatives started in with the judgment again. “So disrespectful!” “All that education and she’s still like this!” Grandma Evelyn, eyes red, slowly bent to pick up the money from the floor. Uncle Mark scoffed from the side: “You’ve coddled her too much. Now she can’t even stand forty lousy dollars!” I let out a bitter laugh: “Yeah, I can’t stand it. If you’ve got money for a wallet, why not add enough to buy something new? Who wants this used junk…” Before I could finish, a hand suddenly grabbed my collar from behind, and then a hard slap landed across my face. I staggered and fell to the floor, a metallic taste spreading in my mouth. Dad had come home at some point and was now standing over me, face crimson with rage. Grandma Evelyn immediately hobbled over with her cane, pushed Dad away, and knelt down trembling to touch my face: “Sarah… Does it hurt? Let Grandma see…” Dad was still shouting: “How could I have raised such an ungrateful kid! Don’t you remember how your grandma took care of you when you were little?” I wiped the corner of my mouth, looking up at him: “Yeah, you’re right about everything. I’m the ungrateful one. At least, that’s how you’ve always seen me.” Dad, livid, started to step forward again, but Grandma Evelyn turned and blocked him: “Okay, okay… Let’s eat first. Sarah must be starving.” The other relatives quickly jumped in to mediate: “She’s still young. Hitting her won’t fix anything…” “Talk to her calmly. Teach her right from wrong…” Grandma Evelyn gently took my hand: “Come on, let’s eat something.” I stayed quiet and pulled my hand away. She didn’t say anything else, just slowly followed behind me. When I sat down, she quietly took the seat next to mine. Grandma Evelyn slowly moved the egg drop soup, which was across the table, in front of me and said softly: “Sarah, you always loved this.” As she spoke, she used her slightly trembling hand to spoon two large servings into my rice bowl. Aunt Lisa chimed in with a sarcastic tone: “Some people have all the luck. Get everything they want and still act picky.” Dad also spoke up in a deep voice: “Alright, your grandma’s being so good to you. Let it go already.” I looked at the soup and suddenly felt my stomach twist. The next second, I stood up abruptly, unable to stop myself from dry-heaving. Then I grabbed the soup and dumped it into the nearby trash can. “I never eat this,” I said coldly. The dinner table erupted instantly. Uncle Mark slammed his hand on the table and stood up: “Sarah! I’ve had enough of your attitude! What has your grandma ever done to you to deserve this?” Grandma Evelyn also stood up, eyes red, lips trembling: “Sarah… Grandma’s dirty. Grandma collected bottles to buy you those secondhand things. It’s Grandma’s fault… I won’t come back anymore, I won’t come… You have to eat well, okay?”

My heart twinged. The words “I’m allergic to eggs” stuck in my throat. Crash! Dad suddenly threw down his fork, grabbed the barely touched bowl of soup, and stalked toward me. Dad grabbed me, then lifted the bowl and tried to force it into my mouth. I struggled frantically, soup splashing everywhere—down my chin and into my collar. Mom, Grandma Evelyn, and several relatives rushed over, pulling Dad away with all their strength. I stumbled to the floor, coughing uncontrollably, the front of my clothes soaked. Voices exploded around me. “What if she chokes?” “This kid is hopeless!” “She’s this way at her age—what’ll she be like when she’s older?” I coughed, tears streaming down my face, barely able to catch my breath. Grandma Evelyn rushed over, eyes red and tearful: “It’s Grandma’s fault… I shouldn’t have bought that tablet today. Shouldn’t have come…” I suddenly pulled my hand away from hers, gasping for air with a bitter smile: “What are you putting on an act for? You intentionally bought that used tablet, didn’t you? And the wallet—you wanted to humiliate me, right?” Aunt Lisa shrieked: “What’s wrong with that tablet? When we were kids, we would’ve been thrilled to have something like that!” Mom pulled Grandma Evelyn behind her, eyes red as she shouted at me: “I know you hate your dad and me, but Grandma practically raised you!” “Look at her leg! She broke it working construction to pay your school fees! What’s wrong with secondhand things? As long as they work, isn’t that enough?” I winced in pain, got to my feet, and brushed off my clothes: “Enough! It’s *your* job to take care of Grandma, not mine! *You* let her leg go untreated! What does that have to do with me? If secondhand stuff is so great, why don’t *you* use it? Go ahead—be my guest!” At that, Dad lunged again. Grandma Evelyn tried to stop him but couldn’t hold him back. He grabbed me and slammed me onto the coffee table. My back hit the edge with a jolt, and the pain made my vision go black. “Fine, fine!” Dad panted. “I’ll show you if this used tablet actually works!” He reached for the bag but knocked something under the coffee table—my journal. It must have fallen out when I was thrown earlier. I tried to grab it, but the pain in my body kept me from moving. Dad picked up the journal, flipped through a few pages casually, and his face instantly went pale. “What did you write in here?” His voice shook. “You said you hated Grandma… And in your diary, you wished she was dead?” Everyone froze, then crowded around to look. Grandma Evelyn stood there stunned, tears silently streaming down her face. Mom snatched the journal, glanced at it, then rushed over and slapped me twice. I tilted my head, wiped the corner of my mouth, and smiled: “Yeah, I want her dead. Why didn’t that old bag break her neck when she fell?” The other relatives started shouting: “Ungrateful little bitch!” “Heartless monster!” Grandma Evelyn wiped her tears with her sleeve, turned, and started toward the door: “I’ll go… I’ll leave right now…” “Mom!” Dad called out, voice shaking with rage. “You’re not the one leaving today.” He suddenly turned to me, eyes blazing. “If anyone’s getting out, it’s this brat!” I lifted my chin: “Fine by me. That’s what I wanted anyway. I got this job to get independent faster, to get out of this family.”

Dad snatched my journal off the coffee table, tore out a blank page furiously, and pulled a pen from his pocket: “Good! Today we’re signing a disownment paper. I’m cutting you off. As far as I’m concerned, I never had a daughter like you!” Grandma Evelyn rushed forward, trying to grab the paper: “You can’t sign that… Please, don’t…” I scoffed, looking at her: “Save the act. I’m leaving today, one way or another.” Mom still wanted to argue, but I’d already quickly signed the paper and tossed it back. Uncle Mark stamped his foot: “You little brat! What a daughter!” “I’ll pack my stuff and get out.” I turned toward my room. Grandma Evelyn stumbled, grabbing my hand, voice trembling: “My sweet girl… We’re family. You can’t do this…” I shook off her hand and looked at her coldly: “Family? I don’t have a family like you. Mom also cried, grabbing me: “You weren’t like this as a kid… Whatever you wanted, Grandma found a way to get it for you. Your dad and I didn’t have money back then, and your grandma did collect recyclables…” “But every time she brought something home, you’d hug it tight and never let go. You even called your friends to show off that Grandma bought you a new fairy tale book…” “Karen, don’t waste your breath,” Aunt Lisa scoffed from the side. “Look at her. Does she look like she’s listening?” Dad turned his face away, eyes red too. I noticed a relative filming with their phone, muttering: “Disrespectful, ungrateful. Let her company see this. How could someone like this get hired there?” I frowned, then smiled instead: “Go ahead, film all you want. Today I’ll show everyone exactly what kind of person Grandma really is!” I straightened my clothes and walked into my room, then dragged out box after box of stuff. Old clothes, old books, old toys—piled up on the floor. Everyone fell silent, stunned. Grandma Evelyn’s face went pale, voice trembling: “Sarah… What are you doing? These are all the things I gave you when you were little… Didn’t you say you’d keep them forever?” I kicked the pile: “Why would I keep this garbage?” “Wait a minute…” Aunt Lisa suddenly knelt down and picked up a faded child’s jacket. “This jacket…” Other relatives crowded around too, picking up items and examining them closely: “This doesn’t make sense…” “These things look like they’re…” Grandma Evelyn frantically tried to pull me away: “Sarah, stop making a scene…” Mom and Dad also frowned, staring at the pile of stuff on the floor. I pulled the used tablet out from under the coffee table. “Grandma,” I said, looking at her pale face, enunciating each word clearly. “You’ve hidden this for all these years, thinking I’d never find out, didn’t you? I was too young to realize before, but now I see right through you.” “So what if it’s a little old?” Dad was still arguing. “If you don’t want to be here, just leave. Stop with the drama!” I didn’t say anything. I just turned the tablet screen toward everyone. In that instant, the room went deathly quiet. Mom’s scolding expression froze on her face. Dad’s mouth hung open, no sound coming out. He just looked up suddenly, his gaze extremely complicated as he looked from Grandma to me, my face set. Everyone crowded around, and when they clearly saw the used tablet in my hand, everyone gasped.

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My husband, Kolt, was a renowned philanthropist, constantly “rescuing” unemployed girls. Initially, I even supported him. But gradually, he started bringing those girls home, letting them take over my bedroom, wear my pajamas, and even order me to run errands in the middle of the night to buy them condoms. In that moment, I knew the marriage I had meticulously maintained was utterly rotten. On our fifth anniversary, I asked him for a divorce. All I got was a cold, mocking laugh. “Bonnie, you’re not young anymore. You won’t find anyone better if you leave me.” I slipped off my silver ring and tossed it into the trash. “You’re right, I’m not young. That’s precisely why it’s time to cut my losses.” After tearing up the divorce papers, Kolt smoked in the living room all night. Early the next morning, he walked into the bedroom, trying to persuade me to “see things clearly.” “Skye is just staying with us for a few days. If you’re really divorcing me because of her, you don’t have to!” Meeting his venomous gaze, my heart chilled inch by agonizing inch. My thoughts scattered, always drifting back to the countless photos of different girls on his phone. Lately, though, he seemed to have settled down, becoming “devoted.” Rumors were flying around the company: he was obsessed with the ninety-ninth unemployed girl he’d “rescued,” Skye. He’d not only cleared out a lounge for her in his office but had even specially ordered a massive, custom-made king-size bed from overseas, all to cater to her “delicate body.” Everyone downstairs was betting that this naive young girl had the power to keep Kolt away from home for three months straight. She was going to be the future Mrs. Hayes. Mid-negotiation, Kolt took a call and rushed out. Before he left, he turned to me. “Bonnie, you need time to calm down. I’ll book you an appointment with a therapist.” A single tear fell, silent and unnoticed. During our toughest year, I lived with him in a tiny, cramped studio apartment, where the summer heat made you want to jump from the sixty-eighth floor. I wasn’t “sick” then. But now, after he’d achieved success and amassed billions, I was the hysterical lunatic in everyone’s eyes. My phone vibrated beside me twice, automatically displaying a string of photos. At the bottom was a provocative message. “Bonnie, don’t I look pretty in a wedding dress? Kolt said I look like a princess. He wasn’t just flattering me, was he?” In the photos, Skye was draped in a white gown, her slender arms wrapped around Kolt’s neck, her face radiating the smug satisfaction of a conqueror. My fingertips, gripping the phone, turned white. So, Kolt was busy, but not too busy to take wedding photos. He looked even more handsome in a groom’s suit than I’d imagined. In our five years of marriage, we’d never once taken wedding photos. Back then, we genuinely couldn’t afford it. Kolt had promised me. “Bonnie, once I get my first big paycheck, I’ll make you the happiest bride in the world.” “You love diamonds, right? You said they represent eternity. Someday, I’ll custom-make a diamond-encrusted wedding dress just for you.” “Okay, it’s a promise.” I’d responded with a sweet smile. Later, his business grew bigger and bigger, he often stayed out all night, and his promise of wedding photos became a distant dream. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, unable to hold back my tears anymore. Kolt, you truly broke your promises countless times.

I waited until three in the morning, and just as I expected, the door opened. Skye was helping a stinking drunk Kolt back inside. “Kolt, can you hold it in, please? There’s someone else home!” I looked up, just in time to see Kolt holding Skye, kissing her passionately, unable to pull away. Seeing my face dark with fury, Skye quickly apologized, her voice trembling. “Bonnie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be here.” Her words made me laugh sardonically, my voice as cold as ice. “I’m in my own home. Do I need to report my whereabouts to you?” That single sentence made Skye’s eyes redden. Kolt noticed she was crying. Unhurried, he bent down to kiss away her tears, then turned to me. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve scared this poor girl to tears. You’re really something else!” I bit my lip, forcing back the tears. “Kolt, in the future… can you please stop bringing women home?” He knew I was a stickler for fidelity. I couldn’t tolerate even a hint of disloyalty. Yet, he still did things to hurt me. Skye, who just a second ago was limply leaning in Kolt’s arms, now looked like a startled fawn. She stared at me timidly. “Bonnie, I know you hate me. I’ll leave right away.” However, before she could take a single step, Kolt pulled her back, embracing her tightly. “No! I forbid you to go.” Meeting my crestfallen gaze, Kolt’s tone became impatient. “It’s raining outside. Where do you expect her to go?” I forcefully suppressed the urge to march over and slap both of them. “Where she goes is none of my business. But one thing’s for sure: I forbid her from stepping foot in the master bedroom again. She’d just make my bed dirty.” Skye felt humiliated. She broke free from Kolt’s embrace and ran out. “Are you happy being so aggressive?” Kolt glared at me fiercely, then rushed out after her. The next day, with a heavy heart, I went to the hospital for a follow-up. The doctor told me I was pregnant. My first reaction was, “I can’t keep this child.” The doctor frowned, puzzled. “Ms. Hayes, your husband has a low sperm count. You know better than anyone how precious this baby is. How can you say you don’t want it?” Unable to resist the doctor’s pleas, I took the pregnancy test results to Kolt’s company. His assistant, Ben, dared to stop me, stammering that Kolt was meeting an important client and couldn’t see me. The next second, Skye’s ill-timed joyful cry shattered the fabricated calm. “You poor thing, standing guard for them for so long.” I gave Ben a self-deprecating smile, crumpled the pregnancy test, and pushed the door open. Seeing the disgusting scene inside, my heart clenched painfully. Both of them panicked when they saw me. Kolt, without a hint of redness in his face, calmly adjusted his clothes, reverting to his usual composed self. “I’ve been working overtime recently and my back hurts. Skye was just helping me with a massage, it’s not what you think.” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I threw the crumpled paper ball at him. “I’m pregnant. When are you going to break things off with her? I don’t want our child to be born with you still messing around with this little hussy. It’ll seriously affect the child’s well-being.” “What? You’re pregnant?” Kolt excitedly unfurled the paper, then rushed over and hugged me. “Bonnie, thank you! My parents have been dying for me to be a father. You’re a hero to the Hayes family!” I knew Kolt loved children, so even though he had a low sperm count, I was willing to endure painful fertility injections every month. Just as I thought he would settle down and return to our family, Skye’s mocking laugh suddenly echoed from behind me. “So what if you’re pregnant? It’s no big deal.”

With that, she pulled a pregnancy test from her bag, winked playfully, and handed it to Kolt. “I wanted to surprise you, but someone ruined my plan, so I guess I have to announce it early.” “Kolt, I’m younger than Bonnie, and I have a better chance of having a boy. You’ll agree to let me have this baby, right?” Kolt was so overjoyed at that moment, he probably forgot his own name. “Of course! You and Bonnie are both women I love. Both of you pregnant at the same time, this is the best gift heaven could give me!” He said, then instinctively pushed me away, bending down to scoop up Skye, who was standing barefoot on the floor. “How many times have I told you not to walk around barefoot when the floor is cold? You little dummy, you never remember!” Skye, hooking her arms around his neck, looked directly at me, a fleeting hint of triumph in her eyes. “Bonnie, my baby is almost three months old. Barring any surprises, I’ll give Kolt a son before you do. Then your child won’t have to waste money on clothes; they can just wear my son’s hand-me-downs.” I stood there, petrified, my limbs stiff and unable to move. Kolt dotingly ruffled her nose. “Skye, you’re always so kind.” Kolt couldn’t help but reach out to stroke Skye’s pregnant belly, then turned back to me with a beaming smile. “Now you two can get pregnant together, share tips, and thanks to me, you won’t be so lonely during this time. You’ll even have company while pregnant.” He seemed quite pleased with his “masterpiece,” scoffing at all the doctors who had diagnosed him with low sperm count. He immediately pulled out his phone and posted on Ins, “To all those losers who said I couldn’t do it, guess who’s eating humble pie now? By next year, I’ll be a father of two! What can I say, I’m just too modest usually.” I hadn’t even left the company building when my phone started buzzing with congratulatory messages. The family SnapChat group was exploding. Some fawned over me, praising my “skills”: “You’re truly amazing, pregnant with twins!” Others desperately asked me for tips, all wanting to have two babies at once to save trouble. I ignored them all, my face cold as I sent a message: “Everyone seems to be mistaken. Kolt has issues in that department. I’m not capable of getting pregnant with twins. The one I have in my belly cost me hundreds of thousands to save with fertility shots at the hospital.” “However, his young mistress, being younger and perhaps more ‘capable,’ got pregnant with his seed in just three months, and she even guaranteed a boy. If you have questions, please direct them to her. She has more ‘experience’.” Kolt’s parents were honest, traditional people who valued their family’s reputation above all else. They were also grateful, knowing that without my companionship and support, Kolt would never have achieved what he had today. So, they traveled all the way from their small town and ordered Kolt to break off contact with Skye. Skye immediately burst into tears, clutching her belly and screaming in pain. Kolt’s mother, a woman who had seen it all, spat in her face and cursed. “You little hussy! Our family doesn’t recognize a loose woman like you. Get out of here with that little asshole in your belly and never come back!” Skye couldn’t bear the insult. She immediately knelt down, begging me to let her go. “Bonnie, I know you complained to your mother-in-law, but I don’t blame you. I was ignorant and foolish, even dreaming of having Kolt’s love like you. I don’t deserve it. I’ll leave now.” With that, she wiped her tears and stood up defiantly, walking away. Kolt’s eyes filled with pity. He chased after her, pulled her into the car, and comforted her for a long time before returning, unleashing his pent-up fury on me.

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I was on my knees scrubbing the floor when suddenly my employer’s son wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Melody, you smell so good.” I struggled, but he pushed me down onto the floor in one swift motion, pressing his lips against mine, gently licking and nibbling. I felt my entire body catch fire. His hands roamed over my body, sliding slowly down from my chest… My name is Melody, and I only started working as a housekeeper for the Hartley family last month. If my family didn’t desperately need money, I never would have agreed to work here. A friend referred me to this job. The reason I was so reluctant was because all the housekeepers at the Hartley residence have to wear maid outfits. These maid outfits are incredibly revealing, made from thin, flimsy material. The skirt barely covers my ass. Every time I kneel down to scrub the floor, the skirt rides up completely. My panties are totally exposed. And with my 36D chest, these thin outfits can barely contain me. Every time I move, they bounce and jiggle. But honestly, the pay is incredible—$30,000 a month. I couldn’t resist that kind of money. My mother-in-law’s illness requires constant funding, and normal housekeepers only make about $3,000 a month at most. My mother-in-law’s hospital stay costs money every single day. My husband’s income alone can’t cover it. I haven’t dared tell him what this housekeeping job actually involves. I just said the employer is wealthy and doesn’t care about money, and that they pay well when I perform my duties properly. I’ve been here over a month and haven’t even met my actual employer yet. But I see the employer’s son, Dominic, every single day.

The first day I arrived, Dominic was sitting on the couch, his gaze direct and burning, like he wanted to devour me whole. Gorgeous features, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—easily over six feet tall. While I discussed work details with the butler, he just sat there watching me. Completely unabashed. When I was about to leave, he suddenly stood up and walked past me, his arm brushing against my chest—seemingly accidentally, but definitely on purpose. The warmth of his arm made my body shudder. I felt my legs go so weak I could barely walk. I could feel myself getting wet. My body has always been sensitive. Even though I’m thirty, my skin is fair and firm, like someone in their twenties. Because of that sensitivity, the warmth of his arm completely undid me. I could only pretend to stay composed as I left, but the flush spreading across my face had already betrayed me. I heard him chuckle behind me, his voice deep and melodious, like a cello. I felt my heart tremble. I practically fled. This entire month, I’ve seen him every day. Makes sense—it’s summer break right now. A 20-year-old college guy, working out daily, testosterone practically radiating off him. Every time I clean the gym floor, he’s always there exercising. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see sweat trickling down his eight-pack abs. Eventually disappearing below, where his V-line shows bulging veins. I can feel my breathing getting rapid, my body heating up. I have to quickly redirect my attention and leave the area. I don’t notice that when I leave, Dominic keeps staring at me. 2 I can sense it, more or less—Dominic is testing me. Constantly radiating his masculine energy, deliberately tempting me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected. I’ve been married to my husband for five years. We’ve never once had sex. Because he’s impotent. My body is sensitive, so he can only satisfy me with toys. But it always leaves me feeling empty and lonely. I agreed to marry him because we’ve known each other since childhood. He’s been good to me. When my family went bankrupt, he was the only one willing to help. He proposed, and I said yes. Even without sex, I was willing. I decide I need to request a few days off to cool down and clear my head. When I mention it to the butler, he says he needs to check with the young master first before giving me an answer. Two minutes later, Dominic appears. “Melody, you’re the only housekeeper here right now. If you take a week off, there’ll be no one to handle everything.” “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t want to, but my mother-in-law is seriously ill in the hospital, and we haven’t found a care worker yet. I’ll find someone as quickly as possible.” I sit nervously on the couch, not daring to look directly at Dominic. “I’ll give you three days. Three days, and if you’re not back, you don’t need to come back at all.” Hearing this, tears immediately well up in my eyes. I really, desperately need this job. “Please, sir, don’t fire me. I really need this job.” I look at him with tear-filled eyes, helpless and vulnerable, hoping to gain even a shred of his sympathy. His attitude softens slightly. “Four days maximum. If you’re not back in four days, take your pay and leave.” I answer meekly, “I understand.”

But it’s not really about taking care of my mother-in-law. I just need to clear my head and stop being seduced by Dominic. After all, that powerful, fit body of his, and what looks like a seriously impressive size… Just thinking about it makes my blood rush and my legs go weak. Stop it, Melody. I slap my own face, trying to snap myself out of it. Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t be able to walk away from the Hartley house. When I get home, my husband is already there. I walk up and hug him, acting playful. “Honey, I’m in the mood. Feel.” I guide his hand downward. I’m already soaking wet. He teases me, “Damn, you’re really wet.” He tells me to wait a moment while he prepares. I know what he’s doing. I lie down on the bed first. He leaves hickeys like red plum blossoms on my neck, body, and chest. My body starts trembling. “Mmm… honey, I’m almost there.” As soon as I say this, he immediately understands, pulling out the toy and working me over with it. When we finish, we’re both drenched in sweat, my body covered in dense love marks. The sheets are soaked through. “Honey, what about you?” “I’m fine. I’m happy as long as you’re satisfied.” There’s an excitement in his eyes I can’t quite identify. The four days fly by. On the third day, Dominic has the butler call to tell me that when time’s up, if I’m not back, I don’t need to come back at all. I laugh and say, “I’ll definitely be back.” I return to the Hartley house right on time and resume my work. They really do have a ton of maid outfits. I wear a different one every day, never repeating. The butler assigns which one I wear each day. Today’s outfit is white lace—only lace, not even a lining. It looks exactly like lingerie. But I can’t refuse to wear it. I need this job. The problem is, it doesn’t hide any of the hickeys covering my body.

Dominic comes downstairs wearing a robe. The hem reveals teasing glimpses of what’s underneath. He sees me, says nothing, and walks past. Then he turns back around, staring at the marks on my body. He suddenly grabs my throat, snarling, “Melody, you really get around, don’t you?” His grip isn’t gentle. I feel like I’m about to suffocate, frantically slapping at his arm. “Let… go… of me,” I rasp. Seeing my eyes roll back, he finally regains his composure and releases me. I collapse, powerless, my vision going black as I slump to the floor. He catches me in his arms. “Melody, are you okay?” Once I’ve recovered enough, I push Dominic away. But my struggling looks like flirting to him—completely unconvincing. I feel a wave of hurt, tears streaming down my face. Seeing me cry, Dominic scrambles to wipe my tears away. He sighs and pulls me to my feet. “Melody, I’m just worried about you.” I don’t understand. “What do you mean, worried about me?” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “How could this happen…” I murmur. His phone shows videos of me. Multiple videos. “I bought these from a website. After I bought the first one, every time there’s a new video of you, the seller asks if I want to purchase exclusive rights. If I don’t buy it, he’ll post it online.” “I’ve already bought hundreds of videos. Each time, he charges more.” “Now do you understand?” Now I understand. In these videos, besides me, there’s a man whose face is pixelated. It’s my husband. I’d recognize his build anywhere. I clap my hand over my mouth in shock. “It’s Brian!” The tears I just stopped start flowing again. “What do I do now? Why would he do this? We’ve been married for five years.” “Why would he do this to me? We’ve known each other since we were kids. Childhood friends. When my family went bankrupt, he was there helping with everything. He was the only one willing to help me.” The more I think about it, the more devastated I feel. I collapse into Dominic’s arms, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, tears streaming uncontrollably. Brian, why would you do this? He’s impotent, and I never even cared about that. Why?! I cry inconsolably. “You shouldn’t go home for a while. Stay at my place—I’ve got plenty of rooms.” “It’s not safe for you to go back right now. Tell him your job now requires you to live-in, and don’t let him know you’ve found out about this yet.” “I’ll handle everything when the time comes.” And so, I move into Dominic’s house. His flirtations with me become increasingly blatant. One day, I’m on my knees scrubbing the floor when suddenly Dominic wraps his arms around me from behind. “Melody, you smell so good.” I struggle, but he pushes me down onto the floor in one motion, pressing his lips against mine, gently licking and nibbling. I feel my entire body catch fire. His hands roam over my body, sliding slowly down from my chest… I grab his wandering hand. “Sir…” Right now, my eyes are hazy with desire, my breathing comes in soft gasps, and my skin flushes pink. I’m completely weak. This sight only excites him more. He pins my hands above my head, burying his face in my chest. “Mmm…” I couldn’t help but moan. My body was more honest than I was. There was no denying it—my body craved Dominic’s touch. Dominic lifted me up and carried me to the couch. I sat on his lap, his hardness pressing firmly against my ass. His eyes were red, desire blazing openly in them. With one forceful tug, he ripped the maid outfit to shreds. He thrust hard, and I screamed out, “Ah!”

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I was the last holdout. For three years, I’d turned down every developer’s offer to buy my house. Today, during yet another negotiation, a barrage of transparent comments suddenly flickered across my vision: “Holy shit! Her husband’s banging his first love in the basement RIGHT NOW!!” “Layla Thompson is so clueless. Any payout will just fund his mistress!” “Forget the money. She’ll end up BURIED down there if she’s not careful!” I am Layla, and I was so enraged, my hands trembled. I snatched the pen from the table, signed the demolition agreement. Then I added a single condition. “Demolition to commence immediately. Flatten it. Now.” Mr. Davies, the developer’s lead negotiator, stared at the signed agreement in his trembling hands. “Ms. Thompson, are you sure? This contract is final and effective the moment you sign.” His voice was excited, almost euphoric. He had every reason to be thrilled. For three long years, I’d been the reason for his migraines and, quite possibly, the premature gray in his hair. I was the last holdout in the entire village. And my house sat right in the center of it all. The developers couldn’t get around it, couldn’t avoid it. If pleading would help, he would have groveled at my feet. But at that moment, I was still reeling from the bullet comments. My husband and his first love, having a passionate encounter in the basement? I couldn’t confirm if it was true yet. My husband, Mark Allen, was supposedly on a business trip, far away. For so many years, I’d doted on him, treating him like he was made of glass. When I married him, he was a nobody. I was the one who funded his company. Now that he’d made it big, he dared to cheat on me right under my nose? How could I possibly stand for that? After three years of haggling, I’d finally negotiated the compensation up to a very satisfying 18 million. I was ready to sign. It was Mark who stubbornly held out for 25 million, delaying everything. Fine. If he wants to play it that way, let’s just demolish the house first. Money was never the point for me anyway. I came from wealth.

“I’m entirely certain. You’ll note my additional clause is included. I trust there will be no…delay in its execution? Also, I’ll be observing the demolition in person. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” My voice was ice-cold. This house was one of the properties my grandparents left me. I’d never lived in it, and it had been cleared out ages ago. It could be torn down anytime. Mr. Davies was ecstatic. He sprang to his feet, grabbed his walkie-talkie, and bellowed, “She signed! Get all teams ready now! Move the heavy equipment to Plot 35, Ms. Thompson’s house. Yes, that one! Start demolition immediately, don’t wait another second!” After he finished, he turned to me with an awkward smile. In the past, that smile would have started another heated argument between us. But now, I felt nothing at all. “Ms. Thompson, please rest assured, our group’s top construction team is waiting outside. Would you… would you like to move to our safe observation area? The view is much better there.” Mr. Davies nimbly led the way, taking me to a flat area some distance away. More bullet comments appeared. “Go, Ms. Thompson! She’s going to take care of those two scumbags!” I dialed Mark’s number. The phone rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “Hello, darling, how’s your business trip going?” Mark’s voice was as gentle as ever. “Everything’s going smoothly. What, do you miss me? I miss you too, sweetie. Just wait for me to come home. “Oh, and how are the negotiations going on your end? Remember, absolutely don’t agree to anything less than 25 million. These developers are filthy rich; we can’t let them rip us off.” I didn’t answer him. Because at that moment, I saw the steel arm of a heavy excavator already raised high. The next second, It descended with the accumulated resentment of three years of negotiations, smashing violently into the roof. BOOM. A deafening crash. It came simultaneously from the phone and from reality. At the same time, from the other end of the line, a woman’s terrified scream echoed. After the scream, the call was instantly disconnected. My heart plummeted to the bottom. The woman’s voice was all too familiar. It was Mark’s secretary, Chloe Miller, his so-called cousin. Now it was clear. I’d been fooled. Chloe wasn’t his cousin at all. Just as the bullet comments said, she was his childhood sweetheart, his little mistress. The bullet comments were true. They really were in the basement. They really were on-site. And they really planned to bury me in the basement later. I clenched my teeth in hatred, feeling an unprecedented sense of humiliation and dread. We were all adults. Why would they choose this time, this place, to have sex? The reason was obvious. Mark. You like seeking thrills right under my nose, do you? Then I’ll give you a spectacle you’ll never forget. I turned to Mr. Davies, my voice cutting through the noise. “Demolish it. Leave nothing standing.”

Though surprised by my sudden change, Mr. Davies immediately brightened, beaming as he agreed. Next, a second piece of equipment targeted a load-bearing wall, beginning its assault. The entire building trembled. It was no exaggeration to say the ground was shaking. In a blink, five machines were striking the house from all sides. Rubble flew, crashing down in torrents. The bullet comments exploded with cheers. “Holy crap, this is awesome, so good! Those two scumbags are inside crying their eyes out, completely clueless about what’s happening!” “Demolish it! Harder! Don’t let them mess with our sweet Layla ever again!” “Mark tried to open the door, but a falling boulder blocked him in!” “Oh yeah, the basement collapsed halfway! Chloe’s legs are crushed, looks like she’s going to be a cripple!” With the bullet comments providing real-time updates, my eyes gleamed, and I felt utterly invigorated. I immediately pulled out my phone and furiously snapped pictures of the demolition site, then posted them to Mark’s family chat group. “Deal done! Demolition’s started. Celebrating with a family dinner this weekend-my treat.” Instantly, the family group chat lit up. Sarah Allen joyfully sent a voice message. “A daughter-in-law like you is heaven-sent! Oh, sweetheart, you’re incredible. I always knew you were the one with real vision in this family!” Arthur was extremely emotional. “So, the 25 million was settled then? This, this… this is truly wonderful!” Other relatives also showered me with praise. After all, ever since Mark married me, this family hadn’t stopped benefiting from me. The group chat was buzzing with enthusiastic discussion. Suddenly, Arthur and Sarah fell silent. Only the other relatives kept chatting. A bullet comment floated across the screen just then. “LOL, I’m starting to think Layla did this on purpose. Seeing the message in the group, that idiot Mark finally realized he was being buried alive!” “Now he’s finally remembering to call his parents for help!” “Layla’s in-laws aren’t good people either. Two-faced. Wasn’t it them who pushed Chloe onto Mark in the first place?” “Exactly! Layla isn’t easy to control, so they wanted Chloe to be their daughter-in-law so they could boss her around.” Seeing this, the corner of my mouth curved into a subtle smile. The last trace of moral compunction in my heart vanished without a trace.

Arthur and Sarah arrived faster than I’d expected. “Stop! Stop right now! My son is in there! Mark! My son!” Sarah let out a heart-wrenching wail. Arthur, trembling, pointed at the house and screamed at me, spittle flying. “Layla, what have you done? Mark is down there! He called saying he was trapped! Make them stop immediately!” I tilted my head slightly, looking genuinely puzzled. “Dad, Mom, what nonsense are you talking about? Mark is on a business trip, isn’t he? I just spoke to him; he said everything was fine. Did you hear wrong? Or… is he playing a joke?” Sarah was practically jumping with urgency. “Playing a joke? He was screaming for help! The phone suddenly cut off! He’s right there, under this house, in the basement! Make them stop!” Mr. Davies’s face turned white with alarm. If there truly was someone inside, he wouldn’t be able to escape responsibility. Just then, I spoke up. “Mr. Davies, these are my in-laws, Arthur and Sarah. They insist my husband is buried in the basement. “You were right there when I called him, weren’t you? My husband is clearly on a business trip out of town.” Mr. Davies let out a sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing. “That’s right, I heard it clearly just now. Mr. Allen even said he missed you and told you to wait for him to come back, and he also said… not to accept anything less than twenty-five million.” He stopped mid-sentence, giving me a fawning smile. “Ms. Thompson, you’re truly reasonable and so generous.” I nodded. “You see? Mark really is on a business trip. Are you two hearing things, or is he just messing with you? This house has been empty for years, and we’ve never even lived in it. Why would he randomly be in the basement?” Arthur and Sarah were speechless for a moment, blocked by my words. They exchanged panicked glances. Of course, they knew about Mark and Chloe’s sordid affair. At this moment, how could they possibly reveal that their son was having an affair with another woman? “Anyway., he’s down there! I heard it with my own ears!” Sarah could only resort to irrational rambling. Watching another excavator scoop towards the crumbling staircase, She completely lost it. She threw herself onto the ground in front of the excavator, flailing and screaming. Seeing this, Arthur refused to back down. He glared at me and Mr. Davies, his eyes spitting fire. “I’m telling you, I’ve already called the police! If you dare to demolish anything else, you’ll be going to jail!” With that, he also lay down in front of the excavator, just like Sarah. Mr. Davies’s face darkened completely. He felt they were being utterly unreasonable. However, hearing they’d called the police, he had no choice but to temporarily halt operations. The bullet comments were ecstatic. “Oh, good, the police are coming! When they rescue those two scumbags from the basement, they can ask them why they’re both naked!” “Right, the demolition happened too fast, no time to put on clothes, I guess.” “No way out! Mark either dies if he doesn’t call for help, or faces total public humiliation if he does! Clearly, he chose the second path.” The police arrived quickly. “Who owns this property? What’s going on here? We received a report that there might be people trapped inside?” I stepped forward, my voice calm and clear. “Officer, I’m Layla, the homeowner. This is my property, it’s been vacant for a long time, and today I reached an agreement with the developers for a legal demolition. “My husband, Mark, is currently on a business trip out of town. Mr. Davies can confirm this; we just spoke on the phone half an hour ago. But my in-laws suddenly showed up, insisting my husband is trapped down there, and they’ve disrupted the construction.” Mr. Davies quickly added, producing the demolition permit. The police officer frowned, looking at the tearful Arthur and Sarah. “You say your son is inside? Do you have any evidence? Why would he be in the basement of an empty house being demolished?” “He… he…” Sarah fumbled for words for a long time, unable to make sense, and finally, her embarrassment turned into rage. “I don’t care! My son is down there! If you demolish anything else, you’re committing murder!” The police had to be responsible for any possible risk to life. The lead officer signaled for the demolition to pause. The site finally fell silent for the first time. He walked to the edge of the rubble and shouted loudly. “Is anyone down there? If so, respond!” the officer yelled. Only a deafening silence. “Impossible! He just called! Mark, answer me!” Sarah threw herself at the edge of the rubble, crying out. Still no response. A bullet comment drifted past. “Mark wished he could answer, but a massive slab of concrete is pinning him down. Too much pain to even whisper, and his phone is probably crushed.” “Chloe seems quiet… did she kick the bucket? Oh, no, not yet. Still breathing, just blood loss and pain, unconscious.” Seeing Mark also pinned down, My mood brightened even further. The police asked me to call Mark. Of course, I complied. His phone has been switched off. That’s when a faint, rhythmic tapping echoed from deep within the rubble. Every face around me shifted in an instant. My eyes narrowed slightly. Not dead. Good. Then let’s get them out. After all, I heard those two bastards were completely naked. I was very much looking forward to the rescue.

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For the eighth time, I found Keith Hayes in bed with another woman. This time, I didn’t argue. Instead, I just handed my jacket to the new girl, my voice flat. “Use the back exit.” She gave me one terrified look before scrambling out the door, clutching the jacket like a shield. Keith, propped against the headboard, watched me, a cigarette already lit. “Leave her alone, Amelia. She’s different. Actually fragile. It’s her birthday tonight, so I’ll be staying with her. Don’t wait up.” I nodded, a cold laugh catching in my throat. Because Keith didn’t know yet. His new mistress had HIV. Used condoms littered the floor. The air was thick with a stale, familiar scent. I put on a mask, opened the window wide, and did not look at him again. He blew a lazy smoke ring, watching my movements with idle curiosity. “Change of heart? Not filing for divorce today? Finally learned how the world works?” “Yes,” my voice was soft. “I’ve learned.” Keith scoffed. “Took you long enough.” He stretched, the picture of indolence, and began pulling on his clothes. “In our circles, the marriage contract is just the opening act. Once the performance is over, everyone finds their own…entertainment. It’s better you accept it. Saves us the tedious drama” I turned, silently watching him button his shirt. “You really aren’t coming back tonight?” I asked. “Nope.” He buckled his belt, glancing at me. “Why? Is today some special occasion?” I shook my head. “Just asking.” “Oh, right,” he paused at the doorway. “We’re running low on condoms. Could you pick some up when you get a chance?” “Sure.” The door clicked shut. I stood by the window a moment longer, watching his headlights cut through the night, disappearing at the end of the tree-lined drive. Then I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “He’s gone,” I said. “You can start cleaning now.” Five minutes later, three people in full hazmat suits entered the room. They efficiently gathered the scattered condoms, wiped down every surface with a special disinfectant, and stripped all the bedding, sealing it in airtight bags. The lead woman, a middle-aged professional, nodded to me. “Mrs. Hayes, it’s all handled. Rest assured, there will be no risk of infection left behind.” “Thank you,” I said. “Especially this bedroom, make sure it’s thoroughly disinfected.” “Understood.” I saw the wedding photo on the wall, defaced with a lipstick ‘X’ by one of his lovers. His affairs had cost me two pregnancies, leaving me unable to conceive again. I calmly closed the bedroom door, turned, and walked downstairs. On the living room coffee table sat a cake box. I picked up the complimentary candle, stuck it into the cake, and lit it. Keith only remembered that today was his mistress’s birthday. He forgot it was mine too. The flame danced. I stared at it for a long time, then blew it out. I had planned to ask for a divorce, but now, I didn’t want to. I wanted all his assets, all his power.

For five consecutive days, Keith didn’t come home. But his mistress, as if given silent permission, messaged and sent videos to me right on schedule. “He said I’m the kind of person he really wants.” “He said he’s been tired of a homebody like you for ages.” “He’s not coming back again tonight. Aren’t you lonely sleeping alone?” I didn’t reply to a single one. I just took my medication on time, had my regular check-ups, slept soundly, and instructed my assistant to categorize and archive all her screenshots. On the sixth night, Keith called me. I was at the hospital then, having just finished a series of tests, sitting on a bench in the hallway, waiting for the results. His voice on the phone was hoarse, tinged with the breathlessness of overindulgence. “Amelia,” he called my name. “Someone’s been snapping pictures of Chloe and me lately. There’s an interview tomorrow; I need you to come to the office and help her clear things up.” I was silent for two seconds. “Clear what up?” “Just say it was all a misunderstanding, that she’s just a student I’m sponsoring, and you were there too,” he paused. “You know, she’s young; she can’t handle all this public scrutiny.” I looked down at the needle marks on the back of my hand that hadn’t quite faded. “Okay,” I said. A clear sigh of relief came from the other end. “You’re always so understanding,” his tone softened. “How about I come home tonight and spend some time with you? It’s been a while since we…” “I’m not really available these past couple of days,” I cut him off, lowering my gaze. “My period.” The phone line went quiet for a moment. “…Alright.” He sounded a bit annoyed but quickly returned to his coaxing tone. “Well, get some sleep then, and don’t overthink things.” After hanging up, I looked at the darkened screen and suddenly felt like laughing. He thought I was saving myself for him. He had no idea I simply found him disgusting. The next day’s interview was scheduled in the lobby of the Hayes Corp. building. The media turned out in full force, a flurry of cameras and microphones aimed at us, the “model couple.” I linked my arm through Keith’s, my makeup flawless, my smile gentle and poised. When asked about the rumors, he instinctively glanced at me. I took the microphone from him. “This has all been a misunderstanding,” I said, my smile practiced and calm. “Ms. Davis is a student my husband sponsors. She’s been unwell, and he’s shown her appropriate kindness. A few photos were taken out of context and given a rather dramatic interpretation. I trust we can all now put this to rest.” Someone from the crowd pressed on, “Mrs. Hayes, are you truly not bothered at all?” I turned my head to look at Keith, my eyes full of devotion and trust. “Of course, I trust him.” At that moment, his grip on my wrist noticeably tightened. But halfway through the interview, his phone buzzed with a message. Keith’s face changed almost instantly. He stood up, not even sparing me a glance. “My apologies, something urgent just came up.” He said this to the host and was already turning to leave. I remained seated, still holding the microphone. The media erupted in a stir. Someone loudly asked, “Mr. Hayes, is it about Ms. Davis? We heard she was hospitalized?” His steps faltered for a second, then he walked out without looking back. I sat there alone, in the brightest spotlight, cleaning up his mess, continuing to play the part of the devoted wife. Afterward, Ryan, my assistant, cautiously asked, “Mrs. Hayes, are you alright?” I stood up, straightened my dress, and smiled. “I’m perfectly fine.” And I truly was. Because I knew he had just pushed me one step closer to the finish line. That night, he didn’t come home. He only sent me a message: “Her fever’s really high. I’m at the hospital. You go to sleep first.” I replied with a single word: “Okay.” Then, I thought for a moment and sent another message: “My mom isn’t feeling too well. I need to go back to my parents’ place tomorrow for about a month.” “Want me to come with you?” “It’s nothing serious, I can handle it.” “Okay.” I sent the message, set my phone aside with a quiet exhale, and turned my attention to the newly arrived report on my desk. Its conclusion was stark: Incubation period complete. The virus is now transmissible.

The next morning, I packed my bags and left the mansion. As the car drove out of the tree-lined driveway, I glanced in the rearview mirror at the house I’d lived in for four years. The morning mist hadn’t lifted yet, and a dull, gray light enveloped the entire garden. The garden was filled with red roses. He’d had them flown in from France years ago, simply because I’d once said I liked them. The golden boy of the city’s elite social scene, a true scion of wealth, had spent months planting those nine hundred and ninety-nine roses with me, by hand. Back then, to achieve maximum aesthetic appeal, he’d even stayed up late for nine nights, revising the rose layout himself. I used to tease him. “You’re such a perfectionist, even worse than me!” He’d bent down and kissed my forehead. “That’s because this is our home.” Our home. I looked away, leaned back into the seat, and closed my eyes. Now, his parade of mistresses never ended, and I was the only one left tending to the roses. Our home had become their hotel. I didn’t go to my parents’ place. Instead, I went directly to a private retreat in the suburbs. The doctor was already waiting for me. “According to current data, you show no signs of infection,” he said, flipping through reports. “But for absolute safety, it’s best if you avoid close contact with anyone for the next month.” “I understand,” I nodded. “As for Mr. Hayes…” he paused, not finishing his sentence. “Just keep observing him,” I finished for him. “Any results, let me know immediately.” I moved into a small house at the very back of the retreat. My daily life was simple and routine: follow-ups, medication, reading, walks. It felt like patiently waiting for a countdown. On the seventh night, Keith called me. It was the first time he’d contacted me since I left. When I answered, the background was noisy, like a business dinner. “Where are you?” he asked, his tone a little impatient. “My parents’ place,” I said calmly. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages? He sounded annoyed. “I haven’t been feeling well these past few days; maybe I’m just tired. When are you coming back?” “I’m not sure,” I said softly. “I still need to take care of my mother.” He was clearly displeased but kept his temper in check. “Alright, well, take care of yourself then.” Before hanging up, he added, “Oh, by the way, Chloe has been discharged. She doesn’t know anyone in the city, so I’ve let her stay here for a few days. She’s in your bedroom. So don’t be surprised when you get back, and don’t overthink it.” I hummed in acknowledgment. Of course, I wouldn’t overthink it. Because that, originally, was the perfect place I had chosen for them. Four more days passed. This time, it was his assistant who called me. Ryan’s voice on the phone was frantic. “Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes is in trouble.” My fingers tightened around the phone. “What happened to him?” “He had a high fever all last night that wouldn’t break. This morning, he was rushed to the hospital. The doctors… the doctors said the situation is a bit complicated and asked for a family member to come in as soon as possible.” I was silent for two seconds. “Which hospital?” Ryan gave me the address. It was the same one Chloe had been in. “I understand,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” After hanging up, I sat on the edge of the bed, looking out at the quiet lawn. The sun was bright. Too bright for anything bad to be happening. The doctor knocked and came in. He looked at me. “Are you going out?” “Yes,” I stood up. “To see my husband.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end, he only said, “Please be careful.” I smiled, putting on my mask. “Don’t worry.” I valued my life more than anyone.

As the car drove into the city, my phone lit up again. It was a message from Keith. “Where are you?” I stared at the two words for a long time before replying. “On my way.” “I don’t feel good.” “The doctor is seeing to it.” He was probably really unsettled. Whenever he’d been sick before, I was always there, by his bedside. Giving him water, medicine, staying awake all night. He was used to me always being there. But this time, he could only reach me through a screen. I didn’t reply again. The hospital’s disinfectant smell was heavy. Ryan waited for me at the entrance, his face looking worse than I’d imagined. “Mrs. Hayes,” he whispered. “The doctor has done a preliminary check on Mr. Hayes and suggested… further specialized testing.” I nodded. “I know.” When I pushed open the door to his room, Keith was propped against the headboard, receiving an IV drip. He’d lost a bit of weight, and his complexion was terrible. The moment he saw me, he clearly froze, then visibly relaxed. In that instant, the reliance in his eyes was almost primal. I walked over and placed my bag aside. “What’s wrong with you?” “I feel weak all over,” he frowned. “My head hurts too. The doctor said it might be an infection.” He said it so casually as if he were talking about a common cold. I tucked the blanket around him, my movements as gentle as always. “Don’t worry,” I said softly. “You’ll be alright.” He looked at me, then suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Amelia,” his voice was a little hoarse. “This whole time… thank you for everything.” I looked down at the hand holding mine. His fingers were long and slender, hands that had countless times led me through crowds. “We’re married,” I said. Only then did he seem to relax, his eyes slowly closing. Not long after, the doctor entered and asked to speak with me outside. He met my gaze briefly before extending the report. “Amelia, the results are back.” I took it. My eyes went straight to the decisive line. Confirmed Infection. I was perfectly calm. So calm, it even surprised me a little. “Does he know yet?” I asked. “Not yet,” the doctor said. “In cases like this, we recommend a family member informs them.” I nodded. “I’ll do it.” When I returned to the room, Keith was still asleep. Sunlight lay across his peacefully innocent face, frozen in a moment before it all began. I sat by his bedside and watched him for a long while. Then, I softly called his name. “Keith.” He opened his eyes. “Hmm?” I looked at him, my voice as gentle as it had ever been. “The doctor says you’re quite ill.” He froze. “Ill? With what?” I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I simply laid the report on the sheets before him.

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My boyfriend had a low sperm count. So when he found an abandoned baby on the roadside, he begged me to give up my study abroad plans and adopt him. I agreed. We married. For thirty years, I poured my life into raising that child as my own. Then, the year our son finally settled into his own life, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Faced with astronomical medical bills, my husband and son sat me down. The message was clear: I should give up. “It’s terminal. Why waste the money?” “Mom, Dad’s right. I have a future to think about. Don’t be selfish.” After I died, my husband married his first love in a joyous ceremony. Our son even hugged his father’s first love and called her Mom. That was when I learned the truth: our “abandoned” son was, in fact, my husband’s child with his first love all along. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day my boyfriend held out a baby, asking if we could keep him. I glanced at him, then slammed the door shut. “Take him to an orphanage.” Julian panicked. “How can you say that?!” I looked at Julian’s self-righteous expression and gave a bitter laugh. “Why not? I know nothing about raising a child!” Julian’s brows furrowed. “Serena, this is a life. Look how pitiful he is. We’re getting married soon anyway, wouldn’t it be nice to raise a child together ahead of time?” Julian spoke with a sincerity that I’d heard countless times in my previous life. Now, it sounded utterly repulsive, but back then, I actually believed him. My parents wanted me to study abroad and pursue my dreams, but for Julian and this child, I tore up my plane ticket. From that moment on, a long journey of sacrifice began. In the end, after I died, my husband inherited my family’s enormous wealth and lived a blissful life with his mistress and their illegitimate child. “He is indeed a life, and he’s pitiful. That’s why he should be sent to an orphanage, where professional caregivers can look after him.” “But…” Julian paused. “My mom can help you!” I scoffed internally. Help? In my last life, his mom did help for a few days. But soon after, she had a “stroke” and became paralyzed. I ended up juggling childcare and caring for my “mother-in-law.” It wasn’t until she died and I looked through her medical records that I realized she was never paralyzed! She just wanted to lie around and be waited on hand and foot! I took a deep breath. “Julian, I think I need to reconsider our relationship. You know my parents have always wanted me to study overseas.” With that, I started to close the door. Julian saw this and wedged his foot in the door, his face etched with anxiety, about to say something else. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside. A young man ran over. “Julian! Quick, the company needs you for something!” Mark glanced at me, then at the bundle in Julian’s arms, his expression subtle. I saw it and sneered inwardly. Always the same trick. Julian had clearly planned this, using Mark as his leverage, probably hoping I’d soften and offer to take the baby while he went to work. Then he could smoothly offload the child into my home and easily get out of it. This time, I didn’t say a word. I just watched him calmly, my hands clasped behind my back, a clear gesture of refusal. Mark was still urging him. Julian finally made up his mind, abruptly turning to me, his face pleading. He shoved the swaddled baby into my arms. “Serena! Please! I’ll come back and help you with him as soon as I’m done!” The unexpected weight, carrying the faint scent of baby powder, crashed into my arms. The next second, Julian was gone, vanished from sight. The familiar yet alien sensation sent a shiver through me. Countless fragmented memories surged forward. Rushing him to the hospital late at night when he had a fever, my tears of joy when he first called me “Mom.” And then, Julian snatching away my life-saving medicine, while Leo coldly said, “Mom, stop fighting it. Just go peacefully. You’ve wasted my parents’ lives, don’t waste my son’s now.” I had given up so many opportunities, staying home to care for him. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say this child grew up sucking the very lifeblood out of me. In the end, he became an ungrateful wretch. I lowered my gaze to the child, gritted my teeth, and made a decision.

The next morning, urgent knocking woke me up. My parents were startled awake too. It was Julian at the door, as expected. “Good morning.” “Julian, so early?” Even though Serena’s Mom was a bit displeased with Julian, they were still long-time neighbors, so she greeted him warmly. “Have you had breakfast? Come in, join us!” The more welcoming they were, the more uncomfortable Julian seemed. He had no appetite, his mind solely on his child. He managed a forced smile. “No, thank you. I’ve eaten. I came to see Serena… and the baby.” He spoke, his gaze sweeping past my parents to me. “Baby?” Serena’s Mom was genuinely confused this time. “Julian, what baby are you talking about? What baby?” Julian froze, his voice rising in urgency. “The little boy I brought yesterday! I gave him to Serena!” I sipped my coffee, not even lifting my eyelids. Seeing my nonchalance, Julian lunged forward, trying to grab my arm. “Serena! Where’s the baby?!” His actions were rough, and Serena’s Dad’s face immediately darkened. “Talk, don’t touch!” “I really did give her a baby!” Julian’s voice trembled with desperation. He turned to me, almost shouting, “Serena, where is the baby?!” I chuckled softly. “You’re so anxious. Could it be… the baby is yours?” The living room fell silent instantly. Julian’s expression stiffened. “What are you talking about? I found him by the roadside…” “So, I put him back on the roadside.” “Really?” I stood up, calmly. “Since he was found, of course, I sent him back to where he belongs.” Julian’s pupils contracted sharply. “Where did you send him?” “The roadside,” I said lightly. “Didn’t you pick him up from the roadside? I put him back there. What if his parents, who abandoned him, had a change of heart and came back to look for him?” “What did you say?!” Julian suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip incredibly tight, making my bones creak. “Serena! Don’t joke with me!” Serena’s Dad immediately stepped forward, pulling at him. “Julian! Let go!” I yanked my hand free, rubbing my reddened wrist. “I don’t have time to joke with you. I still need to pack for my study abroad trip!” “Study abroad?” Julian looked bewildered. “How can you go abroad? Who will take care of the baby if you leave?” Serena’s Mom was utterly confused. “What baby? What are you two talking about? And Serena’s classes overseas start next month. We’ve had this planned for ages.” Julian took a deep breath, forcing a smile at Serena’s Mom. “I’ll explain this to you later.” He turned and grabbed my arm again, his voice pleading. “Serena, just tell me where the baby is. That’s a life!” I looked at his self-righteous, scheming face, my blood boiling. Just as I was about to raise my hand to slap him…

“Shit!” Rachel from across the street suddenly poked her head out, her face frantic. “They found an abandoned baby in our community garden this morning! His little face was burning red, and the ambulance just took him away. Poor thing!” Julian’s face drained of color. He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You really threw him away?” I, too, was stunned by Rachel’s words. I had clearly left the baby at Chloe’s doorstep. How did he end up in the community garden? But before I could even process it, Julian violently grabbed me and dragged me outside. “Julian! What are you doing?!” Serena’s Dad roared. Julian ignored him completely. “To the hospital! Now!” Serena’s Mom tried to stop him but was roughly shoved aside by Julian. I was half-dragged, half-shoved into a taxi. Julian, trembling, yelled for the driver to take us to the Children’s Hospital. In the car, he kept mumbling, “He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay.” I watched his distraught state with cold eyes. In my past life, when I was curled in bed, shaking with fever and pain, begging him to take me to the hospital, he had simply looked at me and said, “Drink some hot water. You’ll be fine.” Now, for his child, he was frantic with worry. How ironic. It truly is easy to be indifferent until the pain hits you directly. At the hospital’s emergency room, Julian frantically questioned the nurses until he found the baby’s whereabouts. He dragged me, stumbling, towards the hospital room. Just as we reached the door, we heard a woman’s sobs. Pushing the door open, we saw Chloe holding the infant, whose face was flushed and breathing labored. She pressed her cheek against his forehead, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t be scared, baby, don’t be scared.” Her voice was choked with emotion. Anyone could see how worried she was about this child. Julian rushed in, his eyes instantly red. He whirled around, glaring at me, his gaze overflowing with resentment. “Serena! Are you happy now?! The baby’s burning up, pneumonia, convulsions, he almost…” His voice was hoarse. “He’s so young, how could you be so cruel?!” I looked at the fragile little life, my heart completely unmoved. In my past life, they had drained my youth and health, climbing higher and higher using my family’s resources. In the end, they watched me draw my last breath with cold indifference. His life or death held no meaning for me. “Cruel?” My gaze shifted to Chloe. “Julian, yesterday I personally placed this child at Chloe’s doorstep and even left a note. So… how is it that…” I paused, my tone laced with suspicion. “This child was left out in the cold all night, only to be found in the community garden this morning?” Chloe looked at me, her eyes wide with shock. “Serena, what are you talking about? This is the first time I’ve seen this poor child today! I’m a nurse here, transferred to pediatrics to help out. I saw this baby was so sick and unattended, so I…” She started crying again. “If… if you really left this child at my door, how could I possibly leave him outside all night?” “If I had seen this child first, I would have taken good care of him!” “The three of us grew up together. You know what kind of person I am!” I frowned at her words. I used to think Chloe was kind and innocent, which is why, after I gave up my spot at a prestigious overseas university, I had my dad pull strings to give it to her. Watching my best friend fulfill the dreams I couldn’t, I did it willingly. I just never imagined that Chloe would transform into my son’s biological mother. And Julian’s ‘moonlight goddess.’ Those years I spent sick in bed, I finally realized how foolish I had been. I watched with cold eyes. Julian watched the tears track down Chloe’s face, his own expression flickering with something complex and pained. He took a deep breath, his gaze hardening as he stepped decisively between Chloe, the baby, and me. “That’s enough, Chloe. I believe you.” Then, he pulled a document from his bag. He turned it slowly, forcing the bold, black letters of the header into my line of sight. ADOPTION CERTIFICATE. And below it, unmistakable, was my signature.

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I grew up poor, financing college with student loans, while my roommate was a rich kid who’d never worked a day in his life. But from day one of freshman year, he was dead set on being my friend. He took me out, showed me a good time, and even introduced me to his inner circle—including Scarlett. Then Brandon flipped when Scarlett and I actually started seeing each other. He intentionally knocked over my meal plan tray, then claimed I’d burned him and demanded compensation. After I gave him every cent I had, he spread lies that I was a thief—specifically, that I’d stolen his Louis Vuitton wallet. The school put me on academic probation, classmates froze me out, and even Scarlett wanted out. She called me a loser with delusions of grandeur, saying I was way out of my league. I couldn’t fight back. Ostracized and broken, I dropped out and tried to drown myself when my mind finally gave out. But when I opened my eyes, I was back to the day Brandon first introduced me to Scarlett.

“Scarlett, meet Alex—my roommate and closest friend on campus. Not bad-looking, right?” The party’s loud music and Brandon’s playful nudge jolted me back to reality. This was it—the exact moment I’d first met Scarlett. She’d never given me the time of day before, and tonight was no different. She didn’t spare me a glance, just kept sipping her drink like I wasn’t even there. Brandon slung an arm around my shoulders, grinning. “What do you think of Scarlett, Alex?” “Scarlett’s family owns half the real estate downtown—total old money.” I ducked my head, forcing a bashful smile and playing the part of the flustered freshman. “She’s cool. Uh, I need to hit the restroom.” Brandon was obviously into Scarlett, so why was he pushing her at me? And Scarlett—she was just as bad, stringing me along even though she couldn’t stand me. I was just a pawn in their messed-up game. I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom and took off my dorky glasses. This time, I wasn’t gonna be their toy. Who says the underdog can’t come out on top? I grabbed my bag and dipped without saying goodbye. Sure enough, I ran into Scarlett right by the door. She was alone on a bench outside, hunched over something in her lap. In my past life, I’d obsessed werewolf stories, so I’d memorized every detail of her life from Brandon’s gossip. Today was her birthday—and the anniversary of her mother’s death. Last time, everyone egged me on to toast Scarlett, but she laughed at me for confusing brandy with whiskey, leaving me standing there like a fool. I ducked my head and pulled a carton of strawberry milk from my bag. It was supposed to be my breakfast, but now it would have to do. “Here, drink this. All that alcohol can’t be good for you.” Scarlett shot me a icy look. “I don’t need your sympathy.” I didn’t rise to it. I just set it down. “If you get sick, your mom wouldn’t want that.” With that, I got up and left, ignoring the way she was staring at me. Rich kids like her and Brandon never really saw me. I was just background noise. But this time, I wasn’t just going to make her notice me. I’d make her fall for me, and then I’d sit back and watch her and Brandon tear each other apart. When Brandon got back, he bitched about me ditching without a word. I kissed up like always, agreeing with everything he said. If he skipped class, I’d sign him in. If he was too lazy to grab food, I’d bring it to him. He even whined the dorm washers were gross, so I hand-washed his clothes—every single piece. My other roommates talked trash behind my back, calling me a brown-noser trying to leech off rich kids. What’s the point, they’d say? They won’t throw you a bone. I pretended not to hear, playing the part of Brandon’s loyal gofer. Every day, besides running his errands, I had to listen to his bragging. He’d moan the dining hall food was garbage, bragging his dad should just buy the campus food service already. Sometimes Scarlett would stop by, bringing him gifts, snacks, all kinds of stuff. Once in a while, she’d even bring something for me too. And to keep up the act, whenever I brought Brandon food, I’d make sure to bring some for her too.

Brandon puffed out his chest. “Scarlett’s a total babe, right? All the guys want her. You into her?” I quickly shook my head, acting shy. “Who am I to even think about someone like her? I bet Scarlett only has eyes for you.” That went straight to Brandon’s head. He grinned, looking pleased with himself. Brandon knew Scarlett was into him, of course, but he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Homecoming was coming up, and he was supposed to carry the banner—until he tripped over his stupid cape and twisted his ankle. Some athletic girl would end up helping him to the nurse’s office. And that day, Scarlett—jealous as hell—would end up confessing to me instead. But on Homecoming day, I made sure I twisted my ankle before he could. I gritted my teeth through the pain, limping as I brought him his hair gel and a change of clothes. Brandon didn’t bat an eye, just bitched about me being late. “What took you so long to grab a few things? Your ankle hurts? Man up! We can’t be late for the parade!” I hung my head, apologizing like I always did—acting all meek and sorry. That’s when the athletic girl came over and asked, “Hey, you okay? Want me to take you to the nurse’s office?” I felt awkward, waving her off. “No, I’m good.” But then I almost fell over. She steadied me anyway, helping me walk to the nurse’s office. Suddenly, I felt this icy stare on me. I looked up and there was Scarlett. Brandon, standing next to me, called out all excited, “Scarlett! Check out my outfit today!” Scarlett didn’t answer. She just looked at me and said, “I’ll take him.” Brandon’s face dropped. “Scarlett! I’m supposed to carry the banner into the stadium! Where are you going?” I jumped in quickly. “You don’t have to, Scarlett. This girl can take me. Don’t keep Brandon waiting.” At the nurse’s office, the nurse said my injury was pretty bad and told me to take it easy for a while. I thanked the girl who helped me—turns out her name was Chloe. Chloe was about to leave, but then she turned around at the door. “Hey, let’s swap numbers. If you need anything, just text me.” I noticed her ears were a little pink, and I was confused. Not long after I got to the nurse’s office, word came that Brandon had taken a fall. Scarlett brought him in herself. He had on his cape, looking all princely, with Scarlett by his side like some royal princess. Chloe came back with an ice pack, looking kinda shocked when she saw them. Brandon was wincing in pain. The nurse said he needed a cold compress first. He pointed at Chloe without hesitating, telling her to give him the ice pack. I kept my voice down like always. “Let Brandon use it first. I’ll get another one later.” Chloe looked annoyed but handed it over. “I’ll take you back to your dorm first, then I’ll grab you a new one.” “Alex, can’t you ask for help yourself? Do you need someone to wait on you hand and foot?” Scarlett’s face was still cold, her words sharp and unfriendly. But then she actually took the ice pack and put it on my swollen ankle herself. Brandon’s eyes went wide. “Scarlett! I haven’t even used it yet! How could you give it to him?” Scarlett ignored him, looking up at me instead. “Alex, don’t you like me? Let’s date.” I feigned surprise to hide the coldness in my eyes. Scarlett wouldn’t fall for me that easily. She was probably just trying to get back at Brandon. And I didn’t say yes right away. I stammered nervously, “I—I never said I liked you.” I left quickly, heading back to the dorm where Brandon’s attitude had completely flipped. He mocked, “Didn’t know you actually managed to score with Scarlett. You’ve got some nerve, huh? Dating her—you’re way out of your league.” I kept my head down and mumbled, “No, I’m not.” Brandon got even nastier. “Who are you kidding? There’s no way you don’t like Scarlett. I’ve seen your type before.” “All of you trying to climb the social ladder, like you even belong there. Even if Scarlett likes you, her family would never accept someone like you!” But this wasn’t enough. I wanted more than just her attention.

Scarlett actually started acting like she was chasing me. She’d walk me to class in the mornings, eat lunch with me, and ask me to walk with her in the evenings. And because of my foot injury, I stopped running Brandon’s errands. No one in the dorm talked to either of us anymore, so he moved off-campus to an apartment. Slowly, everyone started to think I was actually falling for Scarlett. I’d blush when I saw her, give her little handmade gifts, and even remember to bring her snacks after my part-time shifts. I’d text her good morning and good night, sharing little things from my day—whether she replied or not. I’d swapped my dorky glasses for contacts, fixed my hair, and even though my clothes were simple, I looked clean and put-together in the mirror. Slowly, I could feel Scarlett looking at me differently. She’d get close on purpose to make me blush, and on rainy days, her hand would brush mine under the umbrella. We were like a real couple. Until the night Brandon got wasted. He barged into the dorm and knocked over a bowl of discounted hot soup I’d bought. I dodged quick, but he ended up burning his own wrist. He shook it off right away, but there was still a red mark. He gritted his teeth, glaring at me. “Alex, I treated you like a friend, and you went after Scarlett? Have you got no decency?” I kept my innocent look. “Went after? Were you two an item or something?” Brandon clammed up. He pointed at me, spitting threats. “Just you wait. You really think Scarlett actually likes you? She’s just playing with you.” Little did he know I was playing with her too. I’d already gotten what I wanted—breaking up wouldn’t matter. Scarlett showed up to chew me out, just like I knew she would. Like last time, she dragged me into a private room with all her friends. Scarlett told me to apologize. “Be reasonable, Alex. Brandon’s never been hurt a day in his life. Now you burned him.” Brandon crossed his arms, sneering. “Apologize? I wouldn’t dream of it. He’s your boyfriend now, Scarlett.” Scarlett looked helpless, teasing him. “Are you really jealous? You’re the one who introduced us, remember?” Brandon pointed at a row of hard liquor bottles. “Here’s the deal—if you’re really sorry, drink all these and I’ll forgive you.” Scarlett didn’t object. She even picked up a glass and handed it to me. “The whole row’s too much. Just one glass.” I took the glass, then dumped the liquor on the floor with a flick of my wrist. “I’m not drinking a drop.” Last time, no matter how much I explained, all I got was mocked. They didn’t care about the truth—they just wanted to see me humiliated. I was the ugly duckling, the loser—basically, not in their league. They made me drink the whole row of shots. I couldn’t keep it down and threw up right there in front of everyone. Brandon jumped back, pinching his nose, while Scarlett looked grossed out and had someone kick me out. This time, after dumping the drink, I set the glass back on the table. The glass clinked as I put it down. I only explained once: “You got burned because you knocked over my soup on purpose. You did this to yourself.” Brandon flipped out, pointing and yelling. “Who did this to himself?! You’re usually such a wimp—now you’re finally showing your true colors? I always knew you were a two-faced jerk!” “I’m warning you—if you don’t drink all these shots and apologize today, I’ll get you kicked out tomorrow!” Scarlett frowned, looking at me like I was being unreasonable. “Alex, did you forget what I said? It’s just an apology. Why make this so hard?” I gave a small, mocking smile. “I didn’t do anything wrong, so I’m not apologizing.” Scarlett hadn’t expected me to be so stubborn. She grabbed my wrist, staring hard at me. “What if I *make* you apologize to him?” I gritted my teeth and pulled my hand away. “Then we’re done.”

Scarlett’s face dropped instantly. Brandon jumped in. “Alex, you think you’re hot stuff? Scarlett was just messing with you. If anyone’s ending this, it’s her!” But Scarlett stepped closer, moving in on me. “Break up with me? You don’t get to decide that.” “Whether I get to decide isn’t up to you.” I turned and walked out without looking back. Inside the room, everyone tried to smooth things over. “He’s just some small-town kid, Scarlett. It was just a fling—don’t sweat it.” “He’s just got a temper, that’s all. Don’t worry, he’ll be begging you to take him back in three days.” Brandon was in a better mood, offering Scarlett a drink. “You’re not really mad, are you? Alex just doesn’t know when to quit.” Scarlett smashed her glass. The loud crash shut everyone up. After a second, she spoke slowly. “It’s fine. Keep drinking.” But that night, she checked her phone a million times, waiting for my goodnight text that never came. Brandon wasn’t bluffing—he really was gonna get me expelled. And sure enough, it happened. I skipped class, hiding behind my bed curtains, and watched Brandon—who should’ve been in class—sneak into the dorm. He had that brand-new LV wallet in his hand. I pulled out my phone and recorded him putting the wallet in my locker. At noon, Brandon showed up with a group and cornered me right in the classroom. He looked all smug. “Alex, my wallet’s gone. You’re always hanging around me—did you take it?” The classroom was packed, even people in the doorway. I stayed calm. “Got any proof?” Brandon sneered. “Proof? C’mon—you’re the poorest guy here. You couldn’t resist something nice, could you?” “If you’d asked, I might’ve given it to you. But you just had to steal it. What kind of lowlife does that?” People started whispering. A bunch of students pulled out their phones to record. Theft’s a huge deal anywhere, especially on a college campus! “Fine, it’s just a wallet. I’ll pay for it.” Scarlett’s voice came from the doorway. The crowd parted for her. Looked like she was here to back me up. But I didn’t do anything. Why should I let them slander me? I stood my ground. “Brandon, you got any proof?” Scarlett frowned at me. “Alex, don’t cause a scene. Otherwise I can’t help you.” Brandon lost it. “Scarlett, you’re actually taking his side?!” “A broke loser like him—what makes him worth your time? You wouldn’t even know him if it weren’t for me!” She wasn’t taking my side. She didn’t believe me either—just trying to save face. Brandon ignored her and brought up his “evidence.” “I’m telling you—I found the wallet in his locker!” His friends jumped in. “We saw it with our own eyes in his locker.” “Alex, what do you have to say for yourself?!” “Someone who steals doesn’t belong here! You should get kicked out!” Weird, judgmental stares stabbed at me. Brandon lifted his chin, walked up, and whispered, “You’re not even in my league to compete.” But I smiled. I hooked my phone up to the classroom projector. “Let’s show everyone how that wallet ended up in my locker then.”

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For seven years, Julian was the man I loved. He quit smoking for me and kept all other women away. Everyone said he was a changed man, completely devoted to me. Then I heard the laughter from the private room. “Clara Sterling? I’m over her. This ring? It’s for my childhood sweetheart.” That day, I was burning up with a 104-degree fever while he went horseback riding with his true love. He left me stranded in the suburbs, forcing me to walk miles back to the city, my blood staining the path behind me. Later, I reclaimed my identity as the Sterling heiress. I pulled our investments and cut off his company’s lifeline. At my wedding, he barged in desperately, only to be blocked and escorted out by my new husband. My new husband gently wiped my tears. “Don’t let him ruin this for you.” And there was Julian, kneeling on the shattered glass, finally understanding. He hadn’t lost a replacement. He had lost the only light his world would ever have. Clara’s POV To the world, Julian Quinn, the ultimate ladies’ man, was reformed because of me. He stopped chasing other women and reined in his wild ways. Because I hated smoke, Julian quit. Because I valued punctuality, he imposed a strict 10 PM curfew on himself. He’d drive three hours to bring me my favorite dessert from that shop downtown. He’d clear his calendar of billion-dollar deals to personally nurse me through a cold. Everyone called him a reformed man, utterly devoted to me. I believed it, too. Until our seventh anniversary year, when I overheard the laughter from behind a private room door. “Julian, Clara’s been with you for so long. Are you two getting married soon?” My hand, poised to knock on the door, froze. A surge of nervous excitement, sharp and thrilling, shot through me. Julian and I had been together for a full seven years, from the age of twenty to twenty-seven. It wasn’t that I hadn’t brought up marriage before, but each time, Julian would say we were still young, no need to rush. His friend chuckled. “Word is, you ordered an engagement ring and hid it from Clara. Planning a surprise?” An engagement ring? Hope surged, warm and bright, in my chest. Then three seconds later, Julian’s voice cut through it. “That ring isn’t for proposing to Clara.” It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water, suddenly dumped over my head, freezing me to the bone. My entire body went rigid. His friend sounded confused. “Then… what is it for?” Julian’s deep voice slowly replied, “It’s for Vivian.” “Vivian? Your childhood sweetheart? Isn’t she always globetrotting? What, is she coming back?” “Yes, she said she’s returning soon.” “So, you’re going to propose to Vivian?” Julian paused, then a soft, tender smile entered his voice. “She always valued her freedom. So we agreed, while we were young, we’d both explore other people. If neither of us was married by twenty-seven, we’d get together.” “Well, Julian, that’s something! Everyone thought you were head-over-heels for Clara, but it turns out you had an agreement with Ms. Vivian all along.” “Ms. Vivian is so free-spirited and vibrant. She travels to countless countries every year. Her perspective and charisma? Clara’s quiet, docile personality can’t even compare.” “But Clara’s been with you for seven years. Will she agree to break up?” “Ha, what if Clara doesn’t agree? She’s a nobody with no connections; Julian can just throw some money her way to get rid of her.” Laughter erupted from the room, each peal a sharp, burning pain piercing my chest. I subconsciously clenched my hands, my nails digging into my palms, praying Julian would say something to deny it. A moment passed, then his casual voice drifted out- “Clara is too docile, almost boring. At first, her quiet, compliant nature felt refreshing, unlike other women who were loud and annoying. But after all these years, I’ve definitely grown tired of it.” Disbelief clawed at my throat. Seven years of my life, seven years of companionship, reduced to his single sentence- I was too docile, too boring, and he was tired of me. So, he’d only been with me for seven years because Vivian had agreed to try dating other people first. And his constant excuse that we were “still young, no need to rush into marriage”? It was because he never planned to marry me. His chosen bride was someone else entirely. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the world. Suddenly, I realized these past seven years had been nothing but a cruel joke, a complete farce. Every breath was a sharp, searing pain. I forcibly suppressed the urge to burst through the door, turning in silence. Leaving the club, I pulled out my phone and dialed. “Dad, pull the investment from Quinn Corporation.” My father on the other end sounded shocked. “Years ago, when the Quinn family was in trouble, and Quinn Corporation was on the brink, you were the one who insisted Julian was promising, begging me to invest and help them. Why the sudden change of heart? Has Julian upset you?” “Just don’t ask so many questions.” My eyes burned with unshed tears as I bit my lip. “Also, I agree. I’ll come back for the arranged marriage.”

Clara’s POV My father sounded even more surprised. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” My father promised, “Don’t worry, the man I’ll find for your arranged marriage will be a thousand times better than Julian. Once you’re back, I’ll immediately withdraw the investment from Quinn Corporation.” I softly affirmed, ending the call with my father. Julian didn’t know that I wasn’t some Cinderella. I was Clara, heiress of the powerful Sterling family in Manhattan. Seven years ago, I moved from Manhattan to Las Vegas for university, where Julian and I were classmates. Our paths first crossed at a university reunion at an entertainment club. A drunk man was bothering me, and I stumbled, falling right into Julian’s arms. Julian looked at my face, his narrow eyes filled with an intrigued glint. “You look like such a good girl. You should stay away from places like this in the future; they don’t suit you.” He shooed away the harassing man, but throughout the party, his gaze, full of intense interest, subtly lingered on me. Perhaps he’d never encountered someone like me before; he was clearly fascinated. To win me over, he changed all the habits I disliked. He’d bring me breakfast in the mornings, pick me up for lunch, and invite me to watch the moon at night. But what truly captured my heart was the time I was accidentally hit by a basketball. He carried me to the infirmary, looking paler than I, the actual injured party. Even the doctor chuckled at his anxiety. “She’s the one who’s hurt, but you look more scared than she does!” After we started dating, Julian was impeccably good to me, always putting me first. Within two years, something unexpected happened to the Quinn family. Quinn Corporation faced a crisis, nearly going bankrupt. It was I who pleaded with my father to inject capital, helping Quinn Corporation escape disaster. Julian had an extremely strong sense of pride. So, I never told him that the reason Quinn Corporation survived was thanks to me. I thought I’d tell him about my identity as the Sterling family heiress from Manhattan when we got married. But now, none of that mattered. We wouldn’t be getting married. The person he secretly bought a ring for, the one he planned to propose to, wasn’t me. That night, Julian returned to the villa. “Baby, I brought you your favorite mousse cake. I know you don’t eat sweets at night, so I’ll put it in the fridge for you to have tomorrow morning.” He tilted my chin up and kissed my lips. My mood was sour, so I raised a hand to his chest. “Go take a shower first.” Julian smiled, soft and affectionate. “Alright.” He turned and went into the bathroom, leaving his phone on the bedside table. Messages kept pouring in. Julian never set a password on his phone. So, I saw message after message pop up. “I’ve had my fun for all these years. I’m coming back.” “Is our agreement still on?” “My flight lands at midnight tonight. Are you coming to the airport to pick me up?” All the messages were from someone saved as “Vivian.” Julian came out of the shower, picked up his phone, and a flicker of delight crossed his dark eyes as he read the messages. He quickly turned to me. “Baby, I have to go out for a bit.” I asked, feigning ignorance, “You usually don’t go out this late. Is something urgent?” Julian, while changing into clean clothes, replied, “A big client is landing in Las Vegas tonight. I can’t be rude; I need to pick them up and host them.” A big client? So, he could lie to me with a straight face. Julian finished changing and came back to the bed. He kissed my forehead apologetically. “This client is very important. I might not be back tonight. If you’re sleepy, go to bed early. Don’t wait up for me.” Before I could say anything else, he grabbed his car keys and hurried out. For seven years, Julian never stayed out past ten, never left after ten at night, and certainly never spent the night away from home- But on the night Vivian returned, he stayed out all night. All the habits he had changed and maintained for me were shattered, completely disregarded, in front of Vivian. I scrolled through Ins and saw a post from one of Julian’s friends. “True love is when, no matter how many years you wander, you always find your way back.” The photo showed Julian kneeling on one knee, placing a ring on a woman’s ring finger at a welcome back party. Julian quickly liked the post. But he probably forgot to block me. Less than two minutes later, the post was deleted. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My heart, though, was bleeding, each beat a fresh wound. I put down my phone and sat on the balcony sofa, staying awake all night, watching the moon.

Clara’s POV I saw Julian the next day at the office. About his overnight absence, Julian explained, “I entertained that client very late last night, drank a lot, and just decided to rest at a nearby hotel.” I remained expressionless, not bothering to expose his clumsy lie. Seeing my low spirits, Julian wrapped his arms around my waist, his voice soft and tender. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you mad?” I forced a smile, pushing him away and handing him the documents. “Sign these.” “What are they?” “My resign-” Two sharp knocks cut me off at the office door. Julian looked up. Vivian stood there. Vivian, in a stunning red dress, leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. “Hope I’m not interrupting your work?” Julian’s eyes lit up, and he immediately rushed towards her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve come down to meet you.” “I’m perfectly capable of coming up myself. Why do you need to pick me up?” Julian ushered her into the office. Vivian’s gaze fell on me. “And this is…?” Only then did Julian remember I was still there. He calmly and composedly introduced, “She’s my assistant, Clara.” In front of Vivian, I wasn’t even worthy of being called his “girlfriend.” I was merely his assistant. Julian then introduced me to her. “This is Vivian, my best friend since childhood.” Best friend? My gaze inadvertently swept over Vivian’s ring finger, where a dazzling, expensive diamond ring shimmered. So, he gave engagement rings to his “best friends.” Julian looked at me. “I’m showing Vivian around the office. You go back to your work.” I didn’t leave. Instead, I handed him the documents again. “You haven’t signed this yet.” Julian didn’t even glance at what the documents were, picking up a pen and scrawling his signature in a few quick strokes. Taking the signed papers, I turned and left the office. I vaguely heard Vivian and Julian’s voices behind me, but I didn’t listen to what they said. Holding Julian’s signed resignation application, I submitted it to HR. The HR person said, “Hand over your work within fifteen days, and then you won’t need to come in anymore.” News of my resignation spread quickly through the company. Colleagues I was close with came to ask me, “Clara, why are you suddenly resigning?” After graduating, I chose to stay in Las Vegas for Julian, joining Quinn Corporation and, through my own abilities, became his chief assistant. I smiled faintly. “I’m going home to get married.” “Married? You and Mr. Quinn are getting married? Congratulations, Clara! You’ll be our boss’s wife!” I was about to deny it when Julian’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “What are you all doing? Are you that idle?” The colleagues flinched. “Mr. Quinn…” Julian’s gaze locked onto me. He stepped forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me into an empty corner. His handsome face was etched with displeasure. “Clara, I told you, I’m not considering marriage right now.” Realizing he also thought I wanted to marry him, I couldn’t help but find it amusing. I chuckled. “No, you misunderstood.” He frowned, confused. “Misunderstood?” I didn’t want to explain anymore. My lips moved, “Julian, let’s break up.” “Julian, are you done?” Suddenly, Vivian walked towards us. Julian hadn’t heard what I just said, his attention completely drawn to Vivian. Vivian flashed a bright, charming smile. “Oh, Clara’s here too.” I gave her a cool, indifferent look. Vivian, as if just remembering something, cooed and pleaded with Julian. “I left my bag in your office. Julian, could you please go get it for me?” Julian didn’t think twice. “Sure. Wait here for me.” As soon as he left, Vivian began to scrutinize me. I wanted to turn and leave, but Vivian intimately and warmly linked her arm through mine. “Clara, your skin is amazing! How do you take care of it? I’m always traveling to places like Africa and the rainforests; my skin gets so bad. Can you teach me your routine?” My gaze dropped to Vivian’s hand, adorned with the ring, a stinging sight. “For skin issues, you should consult a professional. Mine is natural; I can’t teach you.” Unwilling to stay with Vivian, I pulled my arm away. I hadn’t even used much force, but Vivian, following my movement, tumbled to the ground with a cry of “Ah!” Julian, rushing back, saw the scene and angrily snapped, “Clara, what are you doing!”

Clara’s POV Julian tenderly helped Vivian up. Vivian’s eyes welled with feigned tears. “I just wanted to ask Clara how she takes care of her skin, but she got impatient and pushed me… Julian, Clara doesn’t seem to like me very much.” I was astonished by her blatant lie, and even more so that Julian actually believed it. He stared at me, his gaze so dark it seemed to drip with venom. “Even if you don’t like Vivian, you shouldn’t have pushed her.” Without giving me a chance to explain, Julian embraced Vivian and walked away. He never used to raise his voice at me. He never used to trust others and misunderstand me. And he certainly never used to leave me alone. Watching their retreating backs, I felt like I was seeing him for the very first time. After work, a Bentley pulled up at the company entrance. “Oh, didn’t Mr. Quinn leave the company ages ago? Why is he back?” “He’s probably back to pick up Clara.” “Mr. Quinn loves you so much, Clara. You’re so lucky.” My colleagues cast envious glances my way, but I looked at the Bentley, feeling absolutely nothing. Julian rolled down the window and said to me, “Get in.” My colleagues nudged my shoulder. “Go on, Clara, don’t keep Mr. Quinn waiting.” I had no choice but to get into his car, settling into the passenger seat. Julian started the car. After driving for a short distance, he broke the silence. “I was a bit harsh with you today. I apologize. Don’t be mad.” I replied flatly, without much emotion, “I’m not mad.” Julian’s tone shifted. “Still, you were a bit out of line today. No matter what, you shouldn’t have pushed Vivian. She’s my best friend.” Listening to his accusatory tone, I curled my lips in a sneer. “Really, ‘just friends’?” A flicker of guilt crossed Julian’s eyes, and he quickly masked it. “We’ve known each other since childhood. We’re truly just friends all these years. Don’t overthink it.” My heart was filled with bitter mockery. I wondered how long he planned to keep me in the dark, treating me like an idiot. Julian controlled the steering wheel with one hand, reaching over with the other to ruffle my hair, coaxing me softly, indulgently. “Alright, baby, let’s not talk about other people. I’ll take you to that French restaurant you love so much, hm?” Just as he finished speaking, his phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID; it was none other than the “other person” he’d just dismissed-Vivian. Julian hesitated for two seconds, then finally picked up the phone. His eyes visibly softened. “What’s wrong?” Vivian’s sweet, tearful sniffles came through the phone. “Julian, it’s thundering suddenly, and I’m so scared… Can you come and stay with me?” Julian agreed, ended the call, and then looked at me, hesitant. “Baby, something’s come up. I can’t take you to dinner. Get out here, and I’ll send someone to pick you up and take you home.” I was left on the roadside, watching his car speed away into the distance. Over half an hour passed, and no one came to pick me up. Instead, the sky, dark with storm clouds and crackling with lightning, unleashed a torrential downpour. There was no shelter nearby, and the violent rain instantly soaked me through. My clothes and hair clung to my body, and a chilling cold seeped into my skin. I tried to hail a cab for a long time, but no driver accepted. In the end, I had no choice but to brave the furious storm, walking for two hours until I finally reached the villa. After that night, I ran a high fever and was confined to bed. Julian returned the next day and unleashed his fury on the housekeeper. “She’s burning up like this! Why didn’t you call me?” “Mr. Quinn, I did call you, but your phone was off…” Julian froze, speechless, and could only give up. He immediately contacted a doctor to come and give me an IV drip to bring down the fever.

Clara’s POV When I woke up, I saw Julian sitting by the bed, working on his laptop. Seeing my eyes open, he quickly put down his computer. “Baby, you’re awake. How do you feel? Still uncomfortable?” My head felt heavy and cloudy, my body burning as if on fire. Julian, with a mix of concern and apology, helped me sit up. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s all my fault for not giving the driver clear directions to pick you up. He went to the wrong place, and you got caught in the rain.” Was it truly his fault for giving the driver wrong directions, or was he just so eager to see Vivian that he completely forgot to send anyone for me? A cold, bitter laugh echoed in my heart, but I was too weak to challenge him. Julian picked up the chicken soup the housekeeper had brought. “You must be hungry. I’ll feed you some soup.” His gentle, caring demeanor made it seem as if the Julian I knew had returned. Every time I was sick or in pain before, he would always patiently stay by my side and take care of me. His anxious attention, his tenderness, his thoughtfulness-they once made me believe I had found a man worth entrusting my life to, and so I gave him everything without reservation. But now, having witnessed firsthand how he repeatedly abandoned me for Vivian, I could no longer feel that familiar sweetness or happiness. Perhaps out of guilt, Julian stayed by my side in the villa for several days while I was ill. The day my fever broke and I started to feel better, he took my hand and led me out. “Some friends invited me horseback riding. Since you’ve recovered, it’s a good chance to get some fresh air.” At the stables, I realized Vivian was there too. Vivian, dressed in riding gear, smiled sweetly. “Julian, you’re so good to your assistant. You bring her out horseback riding right after she’s recovered from being sick.” Julian and his friends looked slightly uncomfortable. Someone quickly laughed to smooth things over, and another person came to help me put on my safety gear. Once my gear was on, I turned and saw Vivian pouting unhappily in the distance, while Julian was softly coaxing her. “She only got sick because of me. I’m just taking her out horseback riding to make it up to her. Please don’t mind her being here, okay?” He reached up and pinched Vivian’s nose-a gesture he once reserved only for me. I curled my lips in a sarcastic smile, feeling an indescribable bitterness in my heart. Didn’t he get tired of juggling two women? Turning my head, I looked away from them and chose a gentle black horse from the stable. Julian had taken me horseback riding many times before. Each time, he would carefully check and adjust my saddle and teach me how to hold the reins. But this time, seeing him waiting on Vivian hand and foot, I didn’t bother him. I skillfully took the reins and rode the horse, completing several laps around the arena. Unnoticed, Vivian rode her horse next to me. “I know all about you and Julian being together for seven years.” I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, remaining silent, not engaging. Vivian raised her ring-adorned hand. “But what does it matter? The person he wants to marry is me.” I understood. Vivian was afraid I’d cling to Julian, and she was here to gloat and assert her dominance. I couldn’t help but sneer, “If that’s the case, why do you feel the need to come and show off to me?” “Because you did spend seven years of your youth on him. He’s soft-hearted; he doesn’t know how to break up with you.” Julian and his friends were chatting and laughing in the distance, completely oblivious to us. Vivian continued, “But this can’t go on. It’s not good for any of us. He needs to make a choice.” I was about to say that Julian didn’t need to make any choice because I had already decided I didn’t want him. But Vivian preempted me, hooking her lips into a smile. “Tell me, if something happened to both of us at the same time, who would he be more worried about? You, or me?” Before I could react, Vivian whipped her riding crop hard against my horse’s flank. The black horse shied, rearing its front hooves, and Vivian immediately whipped her own horse. Instantly, both horses shied and bolted, neighing as they galloped wildly forward. Julian, sensing the commotion, looked over, gasping in alarm. “Clara… Vivian!” I desperately clung to the reins, while Vivian let go of her stirrups and reins, allowing the frantic horse to throw her off. Julian’s pupils violently constricted. “Vivian!!” Meanwhile, I was also thrown from my crazed horse, one foot accidentally caught in the stirrup. The panicked black horse dragged me across the riding arena, for countless laps. By the time the staff arrived and brought my horse under control, I was already covered in blood from scrapes, every inch of my body aching with intense pain. Before I lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was Julian anxiously scooping Vivian into his arms and striding away with a cold, determined expression, never once looking back to check on my injuries. I smiled, a heart-wrenching, bitter smile. Thankfully, I hadn’t expected much from him anyway.

Clara’s POV The smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils, and I slowly regained consciousness, finding myself in a hospital room. My entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck, taken apart, and then haphazardly put back together, aching excruciatingly. The slightest movement sent shivers of pain through me. The nurse, who was administering my IV drip, saw me stir and said, “Your abrasions are severe; large patches of skin are gone. You don’t have many uninjured spots on your body. You need to lie still and rest. It’s best not to move around too much.” I assented, forcing myself to lie still. The nurse gave me a few more instructions and left the room after finishing the IV. “Both fell off horses, but this one is so badly injured and has no one by her side. The one in the next room just got a few scratches, and her boyfriend is worried sick. It just goes to show, people really can’t be compared.” “Right? The boyfriend of the lady in the next room hasn’t left her side since bringing her to the hospital. He’s bringing her tea and water, feeding her fruit by hand, even carrying her to the restroom. He’s so good to his girlfriend.” Hearing the nurses’ hushed whispers outside, I curled my lips in a soft, mocking smile. Before, when I had a cold or fever, Julian dropped everything to be with me. Now, with both Vivian and me injured, even though my injuries were clearly far more severe than Vivian’s, even though we were in adjacent rooms, he hadn’t even spared me a glance. Our seven years of love seemed so insignificant, so ridiculously trivial, compared to Vivian. That night, as I lay resting, the hospital room door suddenly swung open. I jolted awake to see Julian, his brows deeply furrowed, approaching my bed. My mind felt foggy. “What is it?” “Vivian wants some chicken soup. I remember your chicken soup is the best. Go home, make some for Vivian, and bring it over.” Hearing his demand, I felt as if I’d heard something utterly preposterous. My eyes widened slightly. “You want me to prepare the soup for Vivian?” Julian bent down, kissed my hair, and softly pleaded, “Baby, will you please do this for me?” I found it utterly ridiculous. Julian’s stomach used to bother him because he worked so hard for his company. So, I, who had never even boiled water since childhood, specifically learned to make my signature nourishing broth just for his stomach. Now, he was asking me to make soup for Vivian. My blood surged, my chest heaving with indignation. “Julian, I’m not your housekeeper! And I’m an injured patient!” “You just have some abrasions; your hands and feet aren’t incapacitated. Vivian hasn’t eaten anything all day; if this continues, she’ll get a stomachache. Please, I’m begging you, help me with this. I’ll make it up to you.” “I don’t need your compensation! And I won’t cook a meal for her!” Seeing that his gentle requests were met with my consistent refusal, Julian’s brows furrowed. His expression gradually darkened, and his tone grew several shades colder. “Clara, don’t make me drag you there myself.” His displeasure was palpable, as if he truly would force me to make soup for Vivian and bring it to her if I refused again. I stared at him in disbelief, finally, completely recognizing his true colors. After a moment of tense standoff, I closed my eyes, conceding. “Fine, I’ll go.” My concession wasn’t out of fear, nor was it because I still cared for him. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble. Anyway, I was leaving soon. I didn’t want any more complications. Julian finally smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “Baby, you’re so good, so understanding. I’ll have the driver take you back.” Yes, how could I not be “understanding”? Vivian was back. I was the one stepping aside, injured yet still making soup for her. Back at the villa, I prepared the soup and had the driver deliver it to them at the hospital. I stayed at the villa to rest, too weak and in pain to move around again. The next day, while I was still asleep, a sudden, powerful force yanked me upright. “Why did you do that?!” My mind was foggy with sleep. “What did I do?” “Vivian was rushed to the ER last night after your soup. They confirmed poisoning. How could you be this cruel?!”

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My husband, Dennis Blackwood, had a virginity complex. When he sent his new lover to me for reconstructive surgery, the woman gloated: “I heard you two have been married for five years, and he hasn’t even touched you? We only met ten days ago, and he has sex with me three times every night. He practically dies of pleasure in my arms!” I didn’t react. I just went through the motions, asking about her medical history. Throughout, I calmly listened to her describe how many positions she’d tried. She didn’t know that before her, I had performed ninety-nine surgeries for Dennis Blackwood’s lovers. I had been enraged once, crying and screaming at Dennis, completely losing my composure. All I got in return was Dennis’s contemptuous smirk: “Just relax and enjoy being a trophy wife. When I’m done playing around, I’ll naturally come home.” As the girl was wheeled into the operating room, Dennis stopped me. “While you’re at it, give her a vaginal cosmetic surgery too. She’s really into looking good.” Seeing my silence, the man chuckled and tucked a credit card into my hand. “Your payment.” I smiled back, carefully putting the card away. He’d forgotten. The time stipulated in our pre-nuptial agreement had arrived.

After the surgery, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in ages. “Grandpa, I saw the flight information. Thank you.” “Aria, I’m so glad you’re coming home.” I hung up. Dennis, I didn’t know when, was standing behind me. “Who were you talking to?” I put my phone away, lowering my gaze, and brushed him off casually. “A sales call.” Dennis was already looking down at his phone, muttering an indifferent “Oh,” clearly not caring. Then he held his phone out to me. “What do you think of this bracelet?” It was a bracelet I had marked in a fashion magazine once. I was genuinely touched that Dennis had remembered. Then I heard him chuckle. “Willow would probably love it, wouldn’t she?” I froze, then nodded. “It’s beautiful. She’ll love it.” Perhaps it was my unusual calm this time, but Dennis surprisingly offered to drive me home. “Before Willow wakes up, I’ll take you home first.” In five years of marriage, this was the first time I’d ridden in his car, other than our wedding day. I reached out to adjust the passenger seat, but Dennis stopped my hand. “Aria , you should sit in the back.” “That girl Willow has a fierce temper. If she found out someone sat in her spot, she’d throw a fit with me.” He spoke with a doting smile plastered across his face. I paused for a moment, then moved efficiently to the back. A small pink blanket was casually tossed on the black seat, somewhat clashing with his usual demeanor. It still carried Willow White’s scent. Dennis saw my gaze in the rearview mirror and chuckled. “She’s young, she likes all things pink and soft.” I lowered my eyes, remembering that I was the same age when I married him. On our wedding night, he saw my pink nightgown and smiled nonchalantly. “Aria , I don’t like pink.” “And you’re not my type. Not touching you is my way of being responsible.” When he handed me the pre-nuptial agreement, he was still gentle. “Sign it. It’s just a business arrangement. In five years, we’ll both be free to marry whoever we want.” “But don’t worry, I’ll ensure you have all the respect due to Mrs. Blackwood.” In that moment, ten years of a young girl’s secret crush crumbled. Along with all my hopes for marriage and every fantasy of our wedding night, they shattered completely. I never wore pink again. I moved my gaze from the blanket and couldn’t help but sneeze. Dennis almost instinctively handed me a tissue, his voice as gentle as ever. “I’ll turn up the AC.” That’s when I noticed the tissue box was Disney-themed. Even with five years of a sexless marriage, Dennis and I had shared some calm, warm moments as a couple. In the beginning, I was young, and Dennis was willing to indulge me in everything. The only thing he refused was going to Disneyland with me. No matter how much I pleaded or coaxed, he wouldn’t budge. He just said he was afraid of being laughed at by business partners. It turned out he *could* break his principles. It just wasn’t for me. When we got home, Dennis walked straight to the kit . I was a bit surprised, and after a moment of hesitation, I spoke up. “What do you want to eat? I’ll cook.” Dennis shook his head, staring at a tutorial on his phone. “No need, I promised Willow I’d personally make her chicken soup.” I froze. Dennis Blackwood, the CEO who never cooked and was a germaphobe, was now personally cooking for Willow White. For some reason, my eyes welled up. I remembered once having a high fever and begging Dennis to get me a glass of water. He frowned abruptly. “I don’t like the smell of cooking oil. Wait here, I’ll call the housekeeper to get it for you.” He forgot afterward, and by the time the housekeeper found me, I was dangerously close to brain damage from the fever. Watching him busy himself, a smile playing on his lips, I couldn’t bear to look anymore and turned to go upstairs. I packed my luggage and fell into a deep sleep, only to be shaken awake in the middle of the night.

Dennis Blackwood, looking disheveled, woke me up. “Aria , I can’t do this. You have to teach me.” He pulled me downstairs, and seeing the several ruined pots of chicken soup, my already numb heart throbbed with a fine ache. Dennis wasn’t a patient man. Once, when he accompanied me to try on wedding dresses, he was already impatient by the second dress, making an excuse about work and leaving. Now, for Willow White, he’d ruined several pots of chicken soup and still hadn’t given up. I skillfully prepared the ingredients, turned on the stove, and started making the soup. Dennis cautiously watched the flame. This was, surprisingly, a long-lost moment of quiet intimacy between us. After pouring the chicken soup into a thermos, Dennis placed a kiss on my forehead. “Aria , thank goodness for you.” With that, he rushed out. He was worried about Willow White in the hospital, but he ignored my burned fingers. After I treated my burn, Willow White updated her Ins. “My dearest husband’s chicken soup for me.” Dennis, who never posted on Ins, surprisingly responded in the comments with a kissing emoji. My finger hovered over the screen for a few seconds, but I didn’t ‘like’ it. When I exited, a message popped up on my phone. “Hubby, where do you want to do it next time?” It was immediately recalled, and then Willow White’s voice message came through. “Oh, oops, sorry, sis! I meant to send that to Dennis, but I sent it to you by mistake. You didn’t see it, did you?” Before I could reply, she continued. “Your profile pictures are so similar, I get them mixed up. I’ll ask him to change his, so I don’t send anything wrong next time.” I didn’t reply. I also didn’t think Dennis would change his profile picture. That photo was taken by his late mother. I had once playfully insisted on using matching couple avatars with him, but he had sternly refused. He even scolded me for being childish. In a fit of pique, I found a profile picture that looked similar to his, treating it as our couple avatar. He never brought it up, so I assumed he agreed. But when I refreshed my phone again, I saw that Dennis Blackwood’s profile picture had changed to a cartoon one, matching Willow White’s. My fingers trembled slightly as I refreshed and reconfirmed repeatedly. Then I chuckled self-deprecatingly. Five years couldn’t compare to ten days. Fireworks erupted not far from the city center. Willow White updated her Ins again. She was in Dennis Blackwood’s arms, standing on a rooftop, with dazzling fireworks illuminating the sky behind them. “Happy ten days.” I froze, instinctively rubbing the numbers tattooed on my wrist. It was the same day. Today was my fifth wedding anniversary with Dennis Blackwood. Dennis’s first mistress was a rebellious teenager covered in tattoos. For the first time, I completely lost my composure, throwing a tantrum and crying in front of Dennis, begging him to send her away. He just quietly watched me act crazy, then gently promised it was just an act, that my position wasn’t threatened. But he would still disappear from my side in the middle of the night to be with other women. I learned from that girl and got our wedding anniversary tattooed on my hand, morbidly hoping he would love me. He only snickered when he saw it. “Aria , wash it off. It’s ugly.” I fell asleep amidst the memories, plagued by nightmares. Finally, I was woken by a frantic phone call. It wasn’t fully light yet. The Chief of Staff’s voice was urgent on the phone. “Aria , was it you who performed Willow White’s hymen repair surgery?” “Something’s happened. Get to the hospital quickly.”

By the time I rushed to the hospital, all I could hear were Willow White’s screams. When she saw me, she pointed at me, her emotions high, and cursed. “Did you hurt me?” “You’re jealous! You’re jealous Dennis would rather touch me than you, so you deliberately messed me up down there!” As she spoke, she clung to Dennis Blackwood’s arm, crying, her face covered in tears. “Dennis, I’m bleeding so much, it hurts!” Dennis looked at me, his face grim. “Aria , apologize to Willow.” I picked up the instruments, met his gaze, and calmly said: “Before we determine if it was my fault, shouldn’t I examine her first?” But Willow White abruptly recoiled. “No, I don’t want this bad person to examine me!” “I’m scared I won’t be able to be with Dennis anymore.” Dennis pulled her into his embrace, gently comforting her. The Chief of Staff had no choice but to call another doctor, my colleague Dr. Aaron Price, who had always disliked me. Half an hour after the examination. He pulled out a blood-stained piece of gauze, about the size of a fingernail. Dennis Blackwood looked at me, his brows furrowed. “Was that intentional?” I looked at Dr. Aaron Price in disbelief. “How could it be? I’ve never made a mistake with such a minor procedure.” Dr. Aaron Price shrugged innocently. “But we can’t guarantee that Chief didn’t have a personal vendetta, can we?” He looked at Dennis Blackwood. “After all, the patient and your relationship aren’t exactly harmonious.” Soon, I was formally reprimanded by the entire hospital and dismissed from my position. I knew Dennis Blackwood was behind it; he wanted to get revenge for Willow White. When I was escorted out of the hospital, everyone looked at me with disdain. Someone had posted a video online of Willow White cursing at me, and suddenly my former patients found me. One slapped me several times across the face. “Bitch! No wonder my boyfriend found out after my surgery! Turns out your skills aren’t up to par!” I was being beaten by a crowd. Dennis Blackwood passed by with Willow White, but he covered her eyes. “Don’t look, it’s bad luck.” He merely gave a chilling command to his bodyguards. “Bring her over later.” My face was bruised, and I was doused in urine. The bodyguards dragged me, disheveled, into Willow White’s hospital room. Dennis Blackwood was coaxing Willow White to drink water. “Good girl, I’ve already cooled it down for you. Drink up.” My tears flowed uncontrollably. This scene was something I had yearned for five years but never received. Willow White had easily obtained it in just ten days. Seeing me, Willow White became agitated, clinging to Dennis Blackwood’s waist. “Dennis, what’s she doing here? Is she going to hurt me again?” “My wound still hurts so much, Dennis, I’m scared!” Dennis Blackwood gently patted her back, his eyes dark and menacing as he looked at me. “Aria , I told you, as long as you didn’t cause trouble, I’d be happy for you to remain Mrs. Blackwood. “But you’ve been very naughty.” “Willow is different from those other women. If you touch her, you provoke me.” He looked at Willow White, his voice gentle. “Don’t be scared, Willow. I brought her here so you can get your revenge.” A flicker of triumph crossed Willow White’s eyes, but she spoke timidly. “Really? Can I take my anger out however I want?” “She’s your wife. Can you really bear to do it?” Dennis Blackwood smiled and kissed Willow White’s lips. “No one is more important than you.” Willow White looked at me provocatively. “Then I want her to suffer the same pain I did!” Dennis Blackwood almost blurted out his agreement: “You can.” Then he casually instructed a bodyguard, “Arrange for a doctor.” I looked at the heartless man before me in disbelief. “Dennis Blackwood, I am your wife!” I struggled fiercely but was held down firmly on the floor. Dennis Blackwood’s voice floated over, light as a feather. “Aria , when you do something wrong, you must be punished, don’t you agree?” I was dragged into the operating room. After an examination, my colleague found Dennis Blackwood, his face troubled. “Mr. Blackwood, your wife… she’s never had sex.”

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