President Julian Vance always loved bringing his friends home for dinner, claiming it made us feel more like a family.
As I served a table full of dishes I’d cooked, one of his friends grinned and spoke up.
“Mrs. Vance truly has the grace of the one and only Mrs. Vance!”
My expression didn’t change. I playfully asked,
“Oh? So there’s some petty little ‘other woman’ you’re comparing me to?”
His friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. Julian, however, just laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t listen to their nonsense. Besides you, who else in this world is worthy of being my wife?”
Watching his nonchalant act, I smiled.
But as I turned to walk away, I dialed a number.
“Alex, Julian Vance is cheating. Let him rot in prison.”
My brother on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds.
“Clara, are you sure? Julian, he couldn’t have…”
I slipped off the wedding ring from my left hand. The diamond dug painfully into my palm, a sharp echo of the pain in my heart.
“We’ve been married for ten years. Every single one of his cufflinks, I had custom-made in Italy.”
“But today, he’s wearing a cheap plastic flower. Alex, do you still think I’m wrong?”
“You know I won’t tolerate any injustice. Expose all his dirty laundry to the world. And while you’re at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce.”
Hearing my words, Alex grew furious. “Consider it done.”
Half an hour later, my phone pinged with an encrypted file.
I clicked open the first photo: a sweet-faced girl in a white shirt, looking utterly charmed, was clinging to a man’s arm, her face beaming.
On the wrist peeking out from her sleeve, I saw it—a wolf’s head tattoo, exactly like Julian’s.
I didn’t hesitate. I immediately drove to his company.
Minutes later, a girl with long, straight black hair, dressed in a white skirt, hurried out.
I glanced at her employee badge: Willow Hayes.
The moment she saw me, her face instantly drained of color, and she instinctively yanked her hands behind her back.
But I still saw it: a custom-made Swiss watch.
Last year, around my birthday, I received a notification for a Swiss purchase.
A watch worth four-hundred-thousand dollars. A necklace valued at seven-thousand.
The necklace was still carefully kept at home.
The watch was on her wrist.
I let out a cold laugh, cutting straight to the chase.
“Ms. Hayes, your husband seems to have the same taste as mine. Even your custom-made watches have the exact same design.”
Willow trembled at my words. Her painted lips gaped and closed for what felt like an eternity before she finally managed to stutter,
“Y-yes… I guess men just have similar taste.”
Her knuckles were white as she clutched the fabric of her dress.
“Enough. Stop pretending.”
“You’re the one they call the ‘other woman,’ aren’t you?”
Seeing me lay it all out, Willow began to tremble even more violently, her panic palpable.
“Please, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Vance just had another low blood sugar episode and fainted, and I merely helped him. His friends thought I was very attentive, and they were just joking around.”
“I’m truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding.”
With that, she even exaggeratedly bowed ninety degrees to me.
She put on the most pathetic, ‘poor me’ act. If I hadn’t witnessed her manipulative tactics with Julian myself, I might have actually fallen for it.
Half a month ago, she posted a video on Ins.
A man was swiping his card at a luxury car dealership next to a Porsche. Her caption read: “A man’s love is where his money goes.”
Meanwhile, I was at home, burning with a fever so high I was drifting in and out of consciousness.
I called Julian, asking him to take me to the hospital.
He sounded flustered for a second, but then his voice turned hoarse, as if he was suppressing something.
“Honey, I’ll have the housekeeper take you. I have something urgent here I can’t leave.”
An hour later, I was in the hospital being resuscitated, suffering from pneumonia.
She, however, posted a photo of herself lying in a car, a man’s perfectly sculpted abs visible, adorned with suggestive red marks.
The caption: “New car and you, both forever branded as mine.”
When Julian finally showed up, his shirt buttons were haphazardly fastened.
He slumped by my bedside, his eyes red.
Back then, I naively thought he was genuinely worried about me. But now I knew it was just the cheap guilt of a man who’d been cheating.
A wave of nausea washed over me. *This* was the kind of cheap trash Julian thought was worth betraying me for?
Too disgusted to watch her pathetic act any longer, I turned and left.
But just as I got into my car, Julian called.
The moment I answered, his voice was panicked.
“Why did you suddenly decide to come to the office?”
“Why?”
I started the car, asking casually.
“Just had a contract to discuss, that’s all. Is there something you’re afraid I’ll find out?”
Julian didn’t seem to expect such a question.
His breathing hitched, and after a few seconds of silence, his voice softened, adopting his usual coaxing tone.
“Honey, what are you talking about? I don’t have any secrets from you. It’s just that my office is a mess, and I’d have asked someone to tidy it up if I knew you were coming.”
“Besides, how could I ever betray you? You can check anything you want.”
Hearing that, I was somewhat surprised.
Willow hadn’t told him I’d confronted her.
I flipped through the evidence on my phone, listening to him rationalize.
Three gigabytes of data, every single day somehow linked to Julian.
Last Valentine’s Day, he claimed to be on a business trip abroad and couldn’t call, but he was actually with Willow, watching the Northern Lights.
When my father was critically ill, I called him over thirty times, all unanswered. He was celebrating Willow’s birthday then.
“I believe you, but what about that watch?”
Seeing me bring it up, Julian seemed to relax a little.
His voice moved closer to the receiver, a forced intimacy in his tone.
“That watch? I fainted at the office, and Willow happened to pass by and took me to the hospital.”
He paused, then added,
“She stayed with me all night, so I bought her a watch as a thank-you. I just forgot to tell you about it.”
Forgot? He seemed to forget a lot.
Not just that, but also the three days and nights they spent in a hotel penthouse suite that same night. He forgot that too.
A cold laugh echoed in my mind.
“She’s quite meticulous, isn’t she? Even the black shirt you wore the day you fainted—she washed it, ironed it, and returned it spotless the next day.”
Julian on the other end clearly stiffened, his breathing momentarily catching. Then he chuckled, trying to brush it off.
“Isn’t she though? Such a thoughtful young woman.”
“See, you’re always so suspicious. You’re the only one in my heart, honey.”
His voice was close to the receiver, full of forced intimacy.
“After this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives for a make-up vacation, just the two of us. How does that sound?”
That gentle tone used to melt my heart, but now, it only made me sick.
“Sounds great.”
I gazed out at the passing city lights, my voice as calm as if discussing the weather.
“But you focus on your important business first. Don’t let me get in the way.”
“Nothing is more important than spending time with you, honey.”
Julian’s voice held an eager, pleading note, but my heart grew colder and colder.
Not because Julian had betrayed me and cheated, but because I couldn’t believe they’d been putting on this act right under my nose for so long.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought the urge to confront Julian then and there.
I wanted him to admit his relationship with Willow in front of everyone, then utterly ruin both of them.
I mumbled a few noncommittal words and ended the call.
Just then, Willow’s Ins account updated.
The screen showed her in a complex, diamond-studded wedding gown, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“Another mistress tried to cause trouble today, wanting to take my place. Mr. Vance is making it up to me—he’s finally going to marry me!”
“I only mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and he bought me an entire castle!”
She hooked her lips, and the camera casually swept over a property deed.
“And these wineries! He actually wants me to manage them!”
“How could a little airhead like me possibly do that? Luckily, Mr. Vance promised to accompany me to assert my authority, so no one tries to bully me because I’m young!”
Watching the video, seeing the property deed with my French name printed on it, a wave of pure fury surged through me.
Those wineries were a coming-of-age gift from my brother.
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During a family dinner with our parents, my husband’s junior, Seraphina, threw a projected delivery bill onto the table in front of me.
She declared that she was having my husband’s baby, and demanded I split the one hundred and sixty thousand dollars for the delivery and postpartum care.
I stared at my husband, utterly stunned.
I desperately hoped he would offer an explanation.
Instead, he took Sera’s hand and turned to me, saying, “Sera is so lonely. I promised her a child, my own flesh and blood. As my wife, it’s your responsibility to share the expenses. Stop trying to shirk it.”
In that moment, a chilling realization hit me.
Nine years of marriage—it was all a pathetic joke.
Some people truly belong in the trash.
Just as we settled in for dinner with both our families, my husband’s junior slammed a bill onto my face.
She stood, chin lifted high, a smug, triumphant smirk plastered across her face, like she’d just won the damn lottery.
“Alex wants me to be a surrogate for him. I’ve calculated the costs from pregnancy to delivery, plus postpartum care—it comes to a hundred and sixty thousand. We’ll split it.”
A suffocating silence descended upon the dining table.
My parents, who had been clinking glasses and chatting cheerfully with my in-laws, froze, utterly bewildered.
I stared at my husband, speechless.
I prayed he would tell me it was all a sick joke.
We were a couple, married for nine years, and we had always been childfree by choice.
Now, someone else was having his child, and I hadn’t even known about it.
I couldn’t believe this was real.
But there he was, my husband, his fingers intertwined with another woman’s.
His gaze on me was cold, ruthless.
“Chloe, this child will be my flesh and blood. As my wife, it’s your responsibility to cover half the expenses. Stop trying to dodge it.”
Emboldened by Alex’s support, Sera Blackwood shot me a defiant look, then lightly kissed Alex’s lips right in front of me.
Then, she produced a signed agreement.
“Regarding me having Alex’s child, I have three conditions.”
“First, from now until I give birth, you must serve me well until the baby arrives safely.”
“Second, after the baby is born, to help me care for the child, Alex will stay with me on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. He can only return to you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You are not allowed to be jealous.”
“Third, Alex’s and my child will be his sole heir and will inherit all of his assets. To guarantee the child’s inheritance rights, you must undergo a tubal ligation.”
Listening to her outrageous demands, my parents finally snapped out of their initial shock.
My mother’s face darkened, and she couldn’t hold back her anger.
“What absurd nonsense are you talking about!”
She turned to my in-laws.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, aren’t you going to do something about this?”
Sera scoffed. “My godparents have already agreed to this.”
Alex’s parents had long treated Sera like their own daughter.
At her words, they both chuckled and nodded.
“Yes, we are already aware of this matter.”
Mrs. Sterling even tried to reason with me.
“Chloe, you know that Sera’s father, Professor Blackwood, was Alex’s mentor. His only dying wish was for Sera to be cared for, to have a protector. Alex is merely honoring that wish.”
“You’re an educated woman, you understand what it means to show gratitude, don’t you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
“This repulsive affair, you call it gratitude?”
Alex’s face immediately darkened. “Chloe, this is a notification, not a negotiation!”
“Sera will be the mother of my child. If you speak to her like that again, don’t blame me for breaking ties with you!”
I stared at him, utterly incredulous.
“Alex, say that again!”
He rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Chloe, I’m just trying to repay a debt of gratitude. Can’t you stop being so dramatic?”
“Besides, Sera is intelligent, studious, and a high-achiever. Her excellent genes are more deserving of being passed on.”
“Excellent genes?”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Her excellent genes led her to sleep with a married man?”
Sera’s eyes immediately welled up.
Alex shot up from his seat, shielding Sera.
“Sera comes from an academic background. What do *you*, a small-town girl, know about such things?”
“Besides, you refused to have my child, and now you’re going to deny me one from someone else?”
A sharp pain pierced my heart. His words infuriated me completely.
Before we got married, he was the one who insisted he was childfree and would never have kids.
To support him, I also chose to be childfree.
For nine years of marriage, my parents had subtly hinted a few times for us to have children sooner.
I had always shut them down, just to avoid putting any pressure on him.
Now, it was becoming his reason to condemn me?
In that moment, I finally understood: nine years of marriage was nothing but a cruel joke!
If he didn’t want to make it work, then none of us would!
I shot to my feet, slamming my hands onto the table and flipping it over in one swift, furious motion.
Plates clattered, and a rainbow of sauces and food splattered all over Sera and Alex.
Sera shrieked.
Alex’s face turned beet red with rage.
Before he could speak, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.
Then I looked at Sera.
“This garbage? I don’t want him anymore.”
“You want him? He’s all yours!”
“Alex, we’re getting a divorce!”
I enunciated each word clearly, then turned and walked away.
My parents, their faces grim, rose and followed me.
Only a chaotic mess remained, and the pale faces of the Sterling family.
Alex trembled, roaring at my retreating back.
“Chloe! How dare you divorce me? You think that scares me?”
“I’m telling you, go ahead and divorce! I’ll be just fine without you!”
I didn’t look back. I hurried away from the Sterling house with my parents.
I didn’t want to stay in that toxic place for another second!
Alex, once you’re rid of me…
Your good days are over too!
After dropping my parents home, I returned to the house Alex and I shared, intending to pack my things.
But as I reached the door, I saw all my belongings tossed outside, like trash.
The door lock’s code had been changed.
I called Alex, but he didn’t pick up.
I had no choice but to try a SnapChat video call.
It connected.
But the person on the other end was Sera.
She was sprawled across *my* wedding bed, wearing *my* favorite nightgown, her chest half-exposed, covered in fresh hickeys.
Seeing me, she arched an eyebrow, her expression smug and taunting. “Alex and I are busy making babies, is there something you need this late?”
I was about to speak when she casually dangled her hand.
My vision blurred as I saw the diamond ring on her finger.
It was my wedding ring, the one Alex and I had exchanged, a unique piece I had crafted myself.
Just days ago, Alex had claimed he was taking it to be cleaned and polished.
I never imagined he’d give it to Sera.
Even the decorative items I used to place on the nightstand had been replaced by intimate photos of her and Alex.
There were pictures of them kissing, and others of them embracing.
Noticing my gaze, Sera flashed a wide smile.
“Oops, my bad, Chloe. Alex said this house is mine now, and all that old junk shouldn’t be here, so I had your things thrown out.”
I clutched my phone, my knuckles white.
Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Where’s Alex?”
She blinked. “Alex? Oh, he’s in the shower.”
She sighed dramatically.
“You know, Alex is so insatiable. He kept insisting on another round. I’m just… waiting for him.”
A wave of nausea washed over me.
“Oh, right. Alex said since you’re the one who asked for the divorce, you should just take your things and leave.”
“After all, he bought this house.”
Before I could reply, Alex emerged from the bathroom, stepping into view.
He was wrapped in a towel from the waist down, his upper body bare, his chest covered in red marks.
His eyes still held traces of lingering desire.
He immediately pulled Sera into his arms, his hands roaming over her.
Sera feigned embarrassment. “Alex, Chloe’s watching.”
Only then did he notice me. His face instantly changed, becoming annoyed. “Didn’t you want a divorce? Why are you crawling back in the middle of the night? This place has nothing to do with you anymore!”
The fury in my chest finally erupted.
“Alex, don’t forget, I put up the money for this house! And the startup capital for your company? I sold two tech patents for that! Even your first major deal came through my connections! Did you really get so full of yourself just because people call you ‘Mr. Sterling’? What right do you have to kick me out?”
Alex had been on his high horse for too long; it had been ages since anyone ripped off his facade.
Hearing me expose his dirty secrets, his face twisted in extreme ugliness.
“Chloe, don’t flatter yourself! Everything I have now, I earned myself, and it has nothing to do with you! On the contrary, if you hadn’t married me, someone from your humble origins, would you be enjoying this good life now? For nine years, you and your parents have bled me dry. What right do you have to bark at me?”
My heart ached with a searing pain.
I looked at his face, contorted with rage, and my last shred of hope died.
“Alex, for these nine years, every single penny my parents and I spent, I earned with my own two hands! Without me, do you really think an incompetent fool like you could be where you are today?”
He gritted his teeth, seething.
“I’m a high-achiever, how dare you talk about me like that? Do you honestly think the company can’t function without you? Chloe, who the hell do you think you are!”
“You want to cause a scene, huh? Fine! I’ll give you one! Tomorrow, we’re filing for divorce, and you’re out of the company! I’ll show you that the company runs just fine without you!”
“Alex, since you’re showing no mercy, don’t blame me for doing the same!”
“Your company? It’s going down!”
I sneered and was about to hang up the video call.
Alex was so furious he stomped his foot, roaring just before the call ended.
“Chloe, you think you’ll have a good life without me, without the company?! I’ve already spoken to every company in A-City! You won’t find a single job here! I’m going to make sure you can’t survive!”
I hung up the video call without hesitation and turned to leave.
I was afraid if I waited another second, I’d lose control and storm in there to destroy those two scumbags.
The next day, I drafted divorce papers and went to the company to find Alex.
Just as I reached the company entrance, I was stopped by a security guard.
I frowned. “I’m the company’s Vice President…”
The guard sneered, cutting me off. “Vice President of what? Early this morning, the company issued a notice—you’ve been fired!”
“And, Mr. Sterling gave specific instructions: Chloe and dogs are barred from entering here from now on.”
I clenched my fists, my chest aching with rage.
Just then, Sera and Alex walked out together.
Sera’s voice dripped with mock concern.
“Oh, isn’t this Vice President Chloe? Why aren’t you going in?”
Before I could speak, she feigned surprise, covering her mouth. “Oh, right, I forgot. Alex fired you. You’re a nobody now.”
The security guard chuckled obsequiously beside her.
Alex wore a sneering smile.
I took a deep breath, pretending not to hear, and fixed my gaze on him. “I’m here to discuss the divorce.”
A glint flashed in Sera’s eyes.
Alex scoffed, pulling out an agreement and handing it to me.
“I already prepared the divorce papers. Sign them.”
I took them and glanced at the contents. My temples throbbed.
“You want me to walk away with nothing?”
The divorce agreement stated clearly that Alex wouldn’t leave me a single asset!
How *dared* he?
Alex smirked coldly. “What else did you expect?”
Sera crossed her arms. “Isn’t that obvious? This is Sterling Corp. Everything you’ve enjoyed before was Sterling family property. What right do you have to claim any of Alex’s assets?”
“Alright, if you want to save some face, just sign it.”
Seeing me hesitate, Alex sneered, “I knew you wouldn’t let go of your comfortable life. Why the act earlier? Chloe, if you humbly agree to cover half of my expenses for Sera’s delivery, and go to the hospital for that tubal ligation, I might just give you another chance. Otherwise…”
“No, I’ll sign.”
I cut him off abruptly, pulled out a pen, and swiftly signed my name.
Alex’s face was grim. “Chloe, you actually…”
“Alex!”
He hadn’t finished his sentence.
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Landon Thorne and I? We were infamous, a legendary toxic couple in our circles.
After ten grueling years, we finally called a truce.
The day Landon got back in town, he decided to make a grand gesture for some new girl. He tore my bar apart, all to put a smile on some pretty face.
I ripped into him for it.
“Tsk, loved smashing your place, didn’t I? What kind of compensation do you want? Name your price.”
What could a dying person possibly ask for?
It wasn’t until my last follow-up appointment that I knew. I was out of time.
A mother and daughter, recovering in the same ward, looked at me with pity.
“That poor thing, so young. And at the end, there won’t even be anyone to claim her body.”
I sat in the cold hospital corridor, my fingers tracing the number I’d had saved for ten years.
“If you really want to pay me back, then promise to handle my funeral.”
***
It was a rainy night. The bar was almost empty.
The TV screen flashed with news of Landon Thorne’s return.
Just as I was about to close up, a young woman walked in.
She folded her umbrella, her eyes bright as she pointed at the bottles behind the counter. “These? I’ll take them all.”
Trailing in behind her was Asher Vance, Landon’s best friend.
He saw me, and his expression froze.
“Uh, maybe we should try somewhere else?”
“I brought Landon some drinks from here once, he absolutely loved this brand,” she chirped, looking at me. “Bartender, I’ve booked the whole place tonight. Just get these ready for me.”
I murmured a reply, my hand trembling slightly as I scooped ice.
It wasn’t nerves, or anticipation.
It was my illness. Untreatable.
“Asher, can you help me light some candles? Landon will be so happy when he gets here, won’t he?”
Asher didn’t answer.
He knew Landon would never be happy if he saw me.
On the news, Landon smirked at the camera.
“I’m sure she’s watching this now. And I’m really looking forward to our reunion.”
The camera angle highlighted the scar above Landon’s eyebrow. It was particularly noticeable.
Yeah, I did that. With a kitchen knife. No real reason, just a bad mood.
The ugly scar at the base of my thumb? That was him. He tore my hand open, and it got infected again and again.
“So, where are you headed next, Mr. Thorne? With those roses, are you meeting your girlfriend?”
He paused for a beat. “My fiancée.”
The young woman, Jasmine, meticulously arranged the bar, then turned to watch the TV.
“Asher, have you ever met his first love, the one he was with for ten years?”
I lowered my head, shaking the cocktail shaker, but my peripheral vision caught Asher’s gaze.
“Landon!”
Jasmine rushed out, forgetting her umbrella.
“Jasmine.”
Landon tilted his umbrella to cover her.
She eagerly rose on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her excitement palpable.
Landon clearly flinched back for a split second.
My gaze met his through the rain-streaked glass.
Jasmine tried to follow his line of sight, but he lifted her chin, pulling her into a deeper kiss.
I looked away, adding mint leaves to a glass.
Asher was already at the counter.
After a few hesitant moments, he finally spoke.
“Please, just… don’t torment him anymore.”
He thought for a second, then added,
“She’s really beautiful, isn’t she? A little like you when you were younger. She’s only nineteen.”
I nodded, feeling a strange disconnect.
“She is very pretty.”
Two figures walked into the bar. Landon folded his black umbrella.
“Were you… talking about my fiancée?”
His words hung in the air, that familiar gaze, so long absent, finally landing on me.
Asher held his breath, watching me.
He wasn’t sure if I was about to do something crazy again.
But I simply placed the glasses in front of them. “Here you are, everyone. Enjoy.”
Jasmine Hayes rested her chin in her hands, her eyes sparkling with joy as she looked at Landon.
“Landon, try this. It’s your favorite, the one you loved.”
He took a sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.
“Bitter and astringent. Yes, definitely my favorite.”
Jasmine took a suspicious sip. “It’s sweet! You’re lying again!”
She didn’t see it, but his eyes were fixed, deeply, on mine.
The bar door burst open.
“Bro! Welcome back!”
A few guys swaggered in, but their cheerful faces froze the moment they saw me.
Their eyes followed my movements, cautious, probing, then flickered to Asher.
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My best friend suggested I use a fake account to test my boyfriend’s loyalty.
I agreed. I registered a burner account and told her it was his.
Once she added him, she immediately started trashing me, claiming I was cheating on multiple guys, that I’d been ‘around the block’ too many times. At the same time, she flooded him with super sexy, revealing photos—low-cut tops, legs spread, ass provocatively posed.
“Hey, big boy, wanna hook up?”
“I’m super obedient, you can do anything you want with me.”
I replied, “I don’t believe it, unless you…”
The next day, during a company-wide meeting, Serena was rushed to the emergency room by paramedics, after a foreign object inside her vibrated so violently, she collapsed.
After my boyfriend proposed to me, my best friend, Serena, seemed a little off.
Was she worried I’d be mistreated?
But Liam was not only tall, handsome, and highly educated, he came from a good family and was completely devoted to me. I couldn’t find a single flaw.
Or was she upset that after I got married, I’d have less time for her?
I even tried to reassure her, “Liam loves taking me all over the world, but don’t worry, I’ll bring you a souvenir from every single place.”
To my surprise, she got even angrier after hearing that.
I tried everything to calm her down, but nothing worked. I started to get anxious and asked her what was really going on.
Serena was my best friend; we’d known each other since elementary school.
She’d been there for almost every important moment of my life. I really didn’t want her to have any unspoken concerns about my marriage or my fiancé.
Serena counted on her fingers, stammering, “Chloe, I’m still a bit worried about Liam. Are you being too rash deciding to marry him?”
My heart sank. Was Liam cheating on me?
Seeing the change in my expression, Serena quickly waved her hands, “I’m just being reasonably suspicious, you know? Think about it, what man doesn’t stray? Especially Liam, with his amazing looks and background. Plenty of girls chase after him. Why would he be so completely devoted to *you*? Your… well, your ‘conditions’ are just… okay, I guess.”
I frowned. What was she implying? That I wasn’t good enough for my own boyfriend?
Serena quickly tried to backtrack, “My point is, marriage is a huge decision, a lifelong commitment. It’s never too late to make sure you fully understand and trust a person’s character before you tie the knot.”
“What if he shows his true colors after marriage, cheats, or becomes abusive? Your whole life would be ruined!”
I hesitated, “So what do you suggest I do?”
Serena’s eyes lit up. She grabbed my hand and said, “Give me your boyfriend’s SnapChat. I’ll add him with a fake account and test him. If he can resist the temptation, it means he’s a good guy, and then I’ll feel comfortable letting you marry him.”
Immediately, I felt uneasy. This clearly showed a lack of trust in Liam, and it wasn’t how I usually handled things.
But Serena kept pestering me, so I finally told her I’d think about it and get back to her later.
When I got home, I thought long and hard. I decided to tell Liam everything. Honesty was key in a relationship. Instead of playing games, it was better to talk things through. If there was a problem, we could cut our losses early. No big deal.
I finished telling him, expecting him to be angry. Instead, he burst out laughing. He stroked my head and said,
“Are you sure that’s your best friend? Or is she a frenemy trying to steal your boyfriend? Her intentions are practically screaming in my face. What a manipulative schemer.”
Annoyed, I swatted his hand away. “What kind of talk is that? We’ve been together for over ten years; we’re not going to tear each other apart over some guy.”
Liam looked like he wanted to say more but held back. Finally, he came up with an idea: “Okay, how about this. You register a fake account yourself. Give *her* that fake account and tell her it’s mine. Then *you* can chat with her using the fake account.”
“Let’s see how she plans to ‘test’ me.”
Just then, Serena messaged me again, urging me to give her my boyfriend’s account.
A lightbulb went off. “Alright, that’s what we’ll do!”
I immediately registered a fake account and sent it to Serena.
The next second, I received a friend request: “Hey there, handsome.”
I thought for a moment, and mimicking Liam’s tone, I replied: “Who is this?”
She replied instantly: “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is, do you know your girlfriend is cheating on multiple guys behind your back, and you’re just going to be left holding the bag?”
I stared at my phone screen in disbelief. *This* was how Serena was testing my boyfriend? By immediately slandering me?
I took a few deep breaths, steadying my trembling hands, and quickly typed: “What do you mean? What about my girlfriend?”
Serena quickly sent a ‘hug’ emoji and replied: “She’s tricked you. Don’t let her innocent facade fool you. In college, she was notoriously wild, dating several guys at once. Her reputation was ruined long ago.”
“To spice things up, she even sought out Black international students. So many classmates saw her going to hotels with several Black guys at once.”
“There was even a period when she was constantly battling STIs, had growths down there—ugh, absolutely disgusting—and it took forever for her to get better.”
“I know you’re about to marry her, but I just can’t bear to watch an honest, kind person like you be deceived by a woman like that.”
With that, she sent another string of ‘kiss’ emojis.
*This* was my best friend, spreading vicious rumors about me under the guise of “caring for my well-being”!
I was instantly furious, but I forced myself to calm down. I replied: “Do you have proof of any of this? Don’t just make baseless accusations.”
But Serena continued to fan the flames: “I have photos and chat logs from her college days. Want to see them?”
How was that possible?!
Before I could ask another question, she immediately dumped a pile of chat logs and photos on me.
I clicked them open, and it *was* me!
But these chat logs had clearly been tampered with and stitched together. Many were even fake conversations using my profile picture.
And the so-called photos were group pictures of me participating in a school international student program, taken with international students.
Packaged by Serena like this, combined with her detailed, seemingly credible story, even matching times and locations – if she sent this to anyone else, it really could fool them.
After all, with “irrefutable proof” right there, who wouldn’t believe it?
Rage pushed me to the brink of sadness, of utter despair. I was the clown all along.
I’d been so good to her. I shared every good thing, every good news with her first. I stood by her unconditionally in everything.
Why? Why would she do this to me?
The next second, I had my answer.
Serena seemed to give “Liam” three minutes to process, then continued:
“I know you and your girlfriend, and I know about her hidden past. I totally understand how you must feel right now.”
“A trashy girl like that doesn’t deserve you. You’ve been so good to her, and she still doesn’t appreciate it.”
Then she changed tack: “Hey, handsome, what about me? I’ve been quietly following you, and my heart aches for you.”
“If I had a boyfriend as amazing as you, I’d never cheat. I’d cherish you with all my life.”
Hahaha…
I laughed out loud, enraged by this sudden confession. So *that* was it.
Liam was right. She wanted to steal my boyfriend.
To pressure “Liam” into making a quick decision, she even sent several more super revealing, close-up photos—no face, just low-cut tops, legs, and a provocatively posed ass, with the caption:
“I know you’re hurting. Come out and relax, forget about that rotten girl.”
Liam saw the distraught look on my face and my labored breathing. He quickly took my phone away, telling me to calm down. He raised his hands and swore, “I’d never be interested in a two-faced person like Serena. You’re the only woman I love, wife.”
“Don’t get upset over trash like her.”
“Now you’ve seen her true colors. We’ll just cut her out of our lives. Out of sight, out of mind.”
I gave a tight smile and patted Liam. “No way! She’s coming after *me*. Am I just going to let her get away with biting me?”
I thought for a moment, then replied to her: “Who are you? Why should I believe a stranger’s words?”
She immediately replied: “You’ll find out when we meet. It’ll be a real surprise.”
For the next few days, I continued to play the role of the heartbroken and dejected Liam on SnapChat. I’d chat with Serena occasionally, but I wouldn’t commit to breaking up.
Serena grew impatient, her messages becoming bolder and more direct: “Hey, big boy, wanna hook up?”
“I’m super obedient, you can do anything you want with me.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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I was married to Damian Thorne, an arms magnate, for seven years. My hands, meant for painting masterpieces, learned to assemble firearms and disarm bombs, walking through hell and back with him.
But in the seventh year of our marriage, he became utterly obsessed with a former convent girl, delivered to his bed by his rivals. That girl was pure as freshly fallen snow, and for Damian, who had grown up steeped in blood and violence, she was an addiction he’d never known. He built her a lavish, secluded sanctuary, shielding her from every shadow.
Until I unexpectedly discovered the word “divorced” on our official marriage certificate.
I confronted him, shattering, but Damian casually polished his gun barrel. “Elara gave up her sheltered life for me. I owe her a proper name, a legitimate place.” He paused, eyes cold. “What compensation do you want? Just name it.”
Consumed by bitterness and rage, I slapped Elara across the face at their wedding. That very night, my critically ill mother was tied to the front of an armored vehicle.
“Seraphina, you shouldn’t have touched Elara. This is your lesson.”
I fell to my knees, begging him to stop, but the engine roared to life, and my mother’s blood and flesh splattered across my face. Clutched my stomach, a searing pain, I screamed until darkness claimed me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I discovered I’d been divorced. This time, I didn’t confront him. I booked a flight that very night, desperate to take my mother somewhere Damian Thorne would never find us.
…
“Ms. Vance, our system shows your current marital status as divorced.”
The monotone, official voice of the government clerk dragged me back to reality. My eyes widened in horror. I could almost taste the coppery tang of my mother’s blood in my nose.
“When was this processed?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“August 29th.”
My heart felt like it had been crushed by a blunt instrument. August 29th. Our seventh wedding anniversary. That day, I’d bought fresh flowers and candles, preparing a meticulously cooked dinner. But the candles melted down, the roses wilted, and Damian never showed. He had been busy dissolving our marriage.
I clutched the divorce papers in my hand. As I turned to leave, I saw the familiar black Bentley pulling up outside. In that other life, I had stormed out, oblivious, to confront him. Damian, afraid Elara would discover our connection, had smashed the butt of his gun into my jaw, cracking it. Remembering that, I immediately ducked into the shadows of a corner.
Moments later, the car door opened. Damian Thorne, usually so arrogant and domineering, acted like a chauffeur, personally opening the passenger door. Then he took off his trench coat and draped it gently over the girl’s shoulders, his movements impossibly soft.
Elara Sterling was dressed in a simple white gown, her eyes serene, standing in the morning light like a vision of porcelain purity. Damian took her hand gently and led her inside. Elara’s pale lips tightened, her expression flustered. “Mr. Thorne, are you really going to marry me?”
“Of course. I dream of this day. I’m responsible for you leaving your sheltered life, and I must take responsibility.”
Elara’s slender fingers brushed against her slightly swollen belly. “But I was just an ordinary convent girl. I’m not worthy of someone as powerful and revered as you, nor am I worthy of carrying your child. Perhaps…”
Her unfinished sentence was interrupted by a dominant, possessive kiss. I don’t know how long it lasted, but when it finally ended, Damian cupped her face, his eyes overflowing with doting affection.
“Elara, no one in this world is more worthy of me than you. Only you are fit to bear my child.”
A sharp, searing stab of pain suddenly ripped through my lower abdomen. I clutched my stomach, a desperate grasp, tears blurring my vision. It wasn’t until I saw them disappear into the marriage registry that I stumbled away, making a resolute decision.
***
**【Chapter 2】**
I took a cab to the hospital and scheduled an abortion. Lying on the examination table, the doctor sighed as she looked at the ultrasound results. “Ms. Vance, your uterine lining is naturally thinner than most. This might be the only child you’ll ever have.”
I stared at the ceiling, my voice as calm as still water. “I’m divorced. This child shouldn’t come into this world.”
The cold liquid surged through my veins, and my consciousness slowly blurred. In a daze, I saw Damian once, his ear pressed to my belly, listening to the baby kick, laughing as he talked about teaching our child how to modify guns. I saw him flipping through baby name books, talking about finding a name that brought good fortune. I saw him holding me, promising to distance himself from the bloodshed, to live a peaceful life with me, to be a good father…
Finally, all those images froze on his words to Elara: “Only you are fit to bear my child.”
Two hours later, my face pale and drained, I walked into my mother’s hospital room. She was still in a coma, on a ventilator, but she was alive. My living, breathing mother. In that other life, I had dragged my mother into ruin. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish.
I went through discreet channels to arrange her transfer to a new hospital. Then I went to the immigration office to process my emigration papers. In just three days, once all the paperwork was complete, I would vanish from Damian Thorne’s world forever.
After doing all of this, I stood in the rain, feeling an unprecedented sense of lightness. Just as I was about to walk away, three men, masked and wearing baseball caps, suddenly rushed out from behind me. Before I could react, the iron bars in their hands whistled through the air, smashing into me. A searing pain sent me stumbling to my knees, my back instantly slick with blood.
I didn’t need to guess. These were enemies of Damian, coming for revenge. I tried to grab my phone for help, but one of them slammed a bar down, shattering it. Then, countless blows rained down on me like a storm.
Just then, that familiar Bentley drove past the intersection. It was Damian’s car!
“Damian Thorne!”
I screamed with all my might, struggling desperately to get his attention. The car slowed for a split second, and my heart hammered wildly in my chest. He saw me!
But the next moment, the Bentley accelerated again, speeding away from the intersection without hesitation. Through the window, I saw Damian raise his hand to shield Elara’s eyes. In that instant, I lost the will to even scream.
Of course. Elara was in the car. Damian wouldn’t want his pure, snow-white angel to witness such a bloody scene. Excruciating pain surged through every limb, my vision blurred, and my consciousness faded into the metallic tang of blood.
**【Chapter 3】**
When I opened my eyes again, I saw the stark white ceiling of a hospital room. The door was ajar, and I heard Damian’s subordinate say, “Boss, what if Ms. Vance discovers Elara? If she starts digging, we won’t be able to hide it.”
Damian snuffed out his cigar. His voice was cold. “Don’t worry about that. Your only job is to protect Elara. She’s too pure, not like us. Sera is cunning, always playing dirty. Elara is too innocent, too simple-minded to stand a chance against her. If necessary, we can use Sera’s sick mother. She’s Sera’s only weakness; Sera won’t abandon her.”
I clutched the bedsheets, biting down hard on the tender flesh of my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Years ago, when he proposed to me, he had knelt on one knee and said, “My Sera, with me by your side, no one will ever lay a hand on you.”
The same protective instinct, the same promise, but the recipient had long since changed. The woman he once guarded was now, in his eyes, a dangerous schemer capable of playing dirty.
Footsteps approached. I quickly closed my eyes, reopening them with an expression of icy indifference.
“You’re awake? I had my men investigate. It was that Southeast Asian crew.” Damian walked to my bedside and tossed a document onto the blanket. “This is a ceasefire agreement. Sign it, and they’ll agree to abandon the South American arms market.”
Our eyes met. I couldn’t utter a single word. I had almost died at the hands of his enemies, only to become a bargaining chip in his business deal.
My voice was hoarse. “Damian, when did you decide on this deal?” Was it the moment he saw me being beaten? Or when he knew the Southeast Asian arms dealers were coming for me?
Damian frowned, displeased by my probing. I knew better than to push. The answer, to me, was already irrelevant.
As if to appease me, he worked from my hospital room for the next two days. But his phone was never out of his hand. Occasionally, he would smile softly at his screen, that gentle smile, once reserved only for me.
I suddenly remembered the first time we met, seven years ago. He was being chased by enemies, covered in blood, and collapsed at the entrance of my art studio. He was like a dying lone wolf, his eyes fierce, yet betraying a hint of vulnerability. I should have called the police, but the moment our eyes met, as if by some strange compulsion, I dragged him into my studio. I never imagined that one act would drag me into an endless hell.
Later, my family went bankrupt, and my father sold me to the largest underground black market in Southeast Asia. A depraved rich heir, known for torturing women, tormented me until I was a shadow of my former self. It was Damian, passing by, who rescued me. That was our second meeting. It was then that I understood: in this world, kindness was a useless weakness.
From then on, I, once a budding artist, became the infamous ‘Gunsmith Queen,’ a name whispered with terror in the underworld. I assembled firearms and disarmed bombs for Damian, my hands stained with indelible blood. I thought we could stand shoulder to shoulder, equals. But he saw me as someone already swallowed by darkness, not as pure as Elara.
I looked at my hands, hands that should have been holding a paintbrush, depicting landscapes, but now only knew how to dismantle weapons and engage in brutal skirmishes. Then I thought of Elara’s clear, pure-as-snow eyes, and the irony was crushing. All my profound love and unwavering loyalty had become nothing but a cruel joke.
**【Chapter 4】**
After I was discharged from the hospital, Damian claimed he needed to handle an arms deal and never showed his face again. It wasn’t until the day before I was due to leave that I went to the local chapel, wanting to pray for my unborn child’s soul.
At the chapel gate, I saw Elara. She was bandaging an injured stray cat, her simple white dress making her look even purer. Perhaps her movements were clumsy, for the kitten struggled violently, spilling antiseptic everywhere. I walked over and took the cotton swab from her hand.
“There’s still a tiny stone in the wound. Applying medicine will only make it hurt more.”
This was the first time we’d been alone together since Damian changed. She didn’t know who I was. She pressed her palms together in a respectful bow. “Thank you.”
I forced a faint smile, my heart surprisingly calm. When she learned I was there for my lost child, her eyes instantly welled up. She knelt before the altar, pressing her palms together in prayer. “Oh, Heavenly Father, please bless that unborn child to find peace in the afterlife, and grant this mother peace and health.”
Standing there, I suddenly felt a flicker of pity. I wanted to tell her that Damian Thorne’s tenderness was poison, that anyone who got close to him would eventually be dragged into the abyss. But looking at her devout profile, the words caught in my throat. If she knew my true identity, she would surely break ties with Damian, and then all of his wrath would be unleashed entirely upon me. The horrific memory of my mother’s death in that other life/timeline surged into my mind, and a shiver of icy dread ran through me.
I used the excuse of offering prayers and slipped into a quiet alcove, opening my phone to check the security camera feed. The caregiver was pushing my mother in her wheelchair for a walk, and only then did I feel a little peace. My mother was my only weakness. This time, I absolutely would not let her get caught in this conflict again.
As I calmed my emotions and stepped out of the alcove, a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of my head.
**【Chapter 5】**
My body froze. I glanced towards Elara. She had already collapsed softly beside the offering altar. I cursed under my breath, ‘Of all the rotten luck!’ The next second, the gun butt smashed into the back of my neck.
When I woke again, I was in a derelict warehouse, tied to a pillar with Elara. Her voice was trembling, on the verge of tears. “Who are you? We have no quarrel with you. Why are you holding us?”
The next moment, a brutal slap landed across her face. Scar, the scar-faced leader, grabbed her hair. “Why are we holding you? Damian Thorne stole our biggest deal in Europe and America! We’re in this line of work—how could we just let that slide? He cherishes you, doesn’t he? I’m going to torture you to death, slowly, today!”
So, they were the arms dealers from Europe and America. That territory wasn’t under my jurisdiction, which explained why they didn’t recognize me. I took a deep breath, discreetly using the small blade hidden in my sleeve to saw at my ropes. I’d been through scenes like this too many times not to have some precautions.
Noticing I was awake, Scar rummaged through my wallet. “Ms. Vance, tough luck for you. Tell your family to bring ten million for your ransom, or wait for your corpse.”
“Ms. Vance… I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this. But don’t be afraid! My husband will come rescue us soon. He’s incredibly powerful,” Elara said, her eyes full of trust, as if Damian was a divine savior. My hands paused, but I didn’t respond.
Suddenly, Scar roared into his phone. “Damn it, Damian Thorne doesn’t believe me? Looks like I need to send him a big present!” He threw a knife at our feet. “Alright, men, cut this convent girl’s bastard child out of her belly and send it to Damian!”
My pupils contracted. If Elara died here today, Damian would surely tear me and my mother apart for revenge. Elara was trembling uncontrollably, tears drenching her face. “No… please, don’t hurt my baby…” Her simple white dress was covered in dust, tears streaming down her face, a picture of fragile despair, like a terrified fawn.
Her appearance completely ignited the savage instincts of these madmen. “Boss, this girl has such delicate skin. Why don’t we have some fun with her first?”
Seeing them reach out to drag Elara away, I, having just cut through my ropes, charged forward, ramming into Scar and shielding Elara with my body. “Damn it! Beat her to death!” Scar roared, clutching his stomach, and the men immediately swarmed me. Two fists against a dozen, I could only protect Elara with my body, enduring countless blows and kicks.
“Ms. Vance… don’t hit her… please, let her go…” Elara cried out, trying to block the blows, but I held her down tight.
Just then, an SUV smashed through the warehouse door, and gunfire instantly echoed through the space.
**【Chapter 6】**
All eyes turned to the entrance. Damian Thorne stormed towards us like a madman, pulling Elara into his embrace. “Elara, don’t be scared. I’m here.”
Elara sobbed in his arms, almost fainting. The moment she relaxed, she passed out. He carefully lifted her into an ambulance, gently wiping away her tears himself.
I struggled to my feet, meeting Damian’s icy, piercing gaze, and my heart plummeted to my gut.
“Seraphina.” His voice was low, yet carried a bone-chilling coldness. “Why are you here?”
I swallowed the metallic taste of blood, forcing out a broken laugh. “If I told you it wasn’t me, would you believe it?”
A hard slap landed across my face, sending me crashing into a pillar, blood immediately welling at the corner of my mouth. “Seraphina, can’t you even come up with a believable lie?”
I spat out the blood, ultimately deciding not to say I was there to pray for our child. He placed his foot on my wrist and pressed down, grinding it. The excruciating pain forced a scream from me.
“When did you start plotting against Elara?”
“I didn’t.”
Damian turned and shot Scar in the leg, then pressed the muzzle against his head. “Did she not?”
Scar howled in pain, trembling as he pointed at me. “It… it was Ms. Vance who hired us! She said she’d pay us to teach that convent girl a lesson…”
“You’re lying!” I retorted fiercely, but his men held my shoulders down tight.
Damian sneered, then pulled the trigger, blowing Scar’s brains out with a single shot. “Seraphina.” He crouched down, gripping my chin, his eyes ruthless. “You hurt my Elara. You’ll pay with your most precious possession.”
With a sickening crunch, he snapped my wrist clean.
“Ah—!”
The pain made my vision blur, my body convulsing. “Damian Thorne! How can you do this to me!”
He stood up, adjusting his suit, his voice flat as if discussing something trivial. “Sever her hand tendons.”
“Do it.”
Two words, light as a feather, yet carrying a deathly chill. I was roughly pinned to the ground, my hands forced open.
“Damian Thorne!” I cried out in utter despair. “Seven years ago, I should have let you rot in that alley…”
His back, as he turned to leave, paused for a fraction of a second. But in the end, he didn’t look back.
The second before the searing pain hit, I remembered him kissing my wrist, saying, “My Sera’s hands are meant for painting. If anyone dares to touch them, their entire family will pay with their lives!”
Seven years ago, I saved him, stepping deeper into the abyss with each choice. Seven years later, he personally severed every last one of my hopes.
Four in the morning. I lay sprawled on the cold warehouse floor, my hands twisted at grotesque angles. My loyal aide rushed in with a medical kit. Behind us, the warehouse blazed with roaring fire.
In the car heading to the airport, cold sweat drenched my clothes, yet my voice was resolute. “Once the plane takes off, destroy all traces of me. I want the name Seraphina Vance to completely vanish from this world.”
**【Chapter 7】**
At the hospital.
The moment Elara woke, Damian knelt on one knee to apologize, his palm gently stroking her cheek, his eyes full of self-reproach. “I failed to protect you.”
Elara gently shook her head, tears still clinging to her lashes, but her first question was about me. “Ms. Vance? Is she alright?”
Damian pulled her into his embrace, his chin resting on her head. “Why are you always so kind-hearted? I just love how pure you are.” Elara’s cheeks flushed at his words, and she forgot to press about me.
After Elara fell asleep, Damian walked out of the room and said to his subordinate in a cold voice, “Take the divorce papers to Seraphina. And transfer 30% of Thorne Industries’ shares into her name. Tell her to be out of the mansion before dawn.”
But the next day, Damian waited at Thorne Industries all morning, with no news from Seraphina. He stared at his messages, which had vanished without a trace, his fingers unconsciously tapping the desk. Beyond frustration, a strange unease began creeping up his spine – Seraphina had never ignored his calls before.
“Where is she? Do I have to go get her myself?”
His subordinate hesitated. “Boss, perhaps Ms. Vance is at the hospital.” Damian’s brow furrowed abruptly as he suddenly remembered that he’d ordered her hand tendons severed yesterday. No wonder she wasn’t replying.
He tossed the divorce agreement to his subordinate. “Find out which hospital she’s in and give her these. And when you find her,” he called out before the man could turn, “assign two men to watch her. She’s vindictive; don’t let her play any dirty tricks against Elara. If you detect any unusual movements, send her to a private mental asylum. Release her after Elara’s child is born.”
Late that night, Damian returned to the mansion. The master bedroom was empty, without a trace of me. That sense of unease surged again. Just as he was about to call his subordinate, a faint rustle of art supplies came from the art studio downstairs.
She’s back? Well, where else would she go but to him? Her edges had grown sharper over the years. This was an opportunity to break her spirit, lest she harm Elara in the future. With that thought, he went downstairs and pushed open the art studio door.
**【Chapter 8】**
Moonlight streamed over the girl’s hair. Her slender fingers held a paintbrush, delicately outlining shapes on the canvas, pure as an untouched painting. Damian’s expression, however, darkened instantly. “Who told you you could touch these art supplies?”
This set of custom German paints and brushes, he had personally commissioned for Seraphina. Her hands, besides holding a gun, could also paint gentle landscapes. In those years, after every late-night arms deal, I would always paint a “Starry Night” here. He knew it was her way of self-redemption.
The paintbrush suddenly stopped. Elara looked up in a panic, meeting his cold gaze. “The butler said I could use them… I’m sorry.” Seeing her eyes redden, Damian’s expression softened. He pulled her into his embrace.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you. These are my late wife’s belongings. If you like them, I’ll order a new set for you.”
Elara’s eyes filled with sympathy, her earlier hurt instantly forgotten. So he truly harbored such deep affection for his wife, who had passed away five years ago. Such a man would surely make a good husband and father.
At three in the morning, Damian’s phone suddenly rang wildly. His finger hovered over the answer button, hesitant—his intuition, honed by years in the underworld, told him this call would make him lose something very important.
“Boss, Ms. Vance is gone! We can’t find her!” his subordinate’s anxious voice came through. “But we found her medical records. You should really see them yourself.”
Damian was about to hang up when the subordinate added, “Boss, Ms. Vance knew you had divorced her a long time ago.”
When Elara woke, she found Damian sitting on the balcony, smoking, the floor littered with cigarette butts. “Is work not going well?” she asked softly, thinking his job at the District Attorney’s office was indeed very demanding. Yes, afraid of alarming Elara, Damian had always lied, telling her he worked for a federal agency.
Damian looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot. He had read the files his subordinate sent last night over and over again—Seraphina was pregnant. The day she terminated the pregnancy was the same day he married Elara, only an hour apart. He understood at a glance: Seraphina must have seen him and Elara going to get married.
But she dared to abort his child. Initial anger surged, but then he looked at Elara, standing in the morning light, golden rays illuminating her white dress and dark hair, like an ethereal angel, pure as snow. So utterly different from that blood-stained, manipulative woman.
This was for the best, he thought. They were divorced anyway. Her leaving on her own saved him the trouble. He should probably thank Seraphina.
“No, it’s nothing. Work matters are handled.” He stood up and closed the window. “I reek of smoke. I’m going to shower.”
Elara nodded, relieved. Damian went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He called his subordinate. “Wipe out those scum from Europe and America, every last one of them. Chop off their fingers and feed them to the dogs.”
**【Chapter 9】**
Elara became the new lady of the mansion. Damian ordered new art supplies for her, and for a while, she believed herself to be the happiest woman in the world. But after Damian took over the affairs Seraphina had left behind, the killing intent radiating from him grew heavier. Every time he came home and faced Elara’s pure face, he felt an overwhelming exhaustion—she was, after all, not like Seraphina; she couldn’t help him deal with his dirty business. And he still had to pretend to be some upstanding federal prosecutor in front of her.
One day, after dealing with a traitor in his organization, he was about to follow his routine and bring Elara a small cake when he was suddenly captivated by an international art competition playing on a store screen. The familiar face on the screen was confident, vibrant, and full of life.
That day, he went to buy Elara dessert, and in a gallery window, one of my old pieces was displayed. It depicted sunflowers blooming in the sun, painted with bright, spirited brushstrokes. It was like a vibrant red rose, blazing with color, outshining even the purest snow.
Damian stood in the store for a long time, his heart still pounding even after the store closed. He walked into Seraphina’s old art studio for the first time in ages, the dusty easel standing quietly in the corner. Memories suddenly broke through the dam—
The first time they met, Seraphina stood at the studio door, holding a sketchbook, her white dress splattered with paint, like an angel who had wandered into the darkness. That year, Seraphina had just graduated from college. He had pulled her into his world, utterly reckless. Seraphina was the only light in his bloody life; only by her side could he find a moment of peace.
He had once sworn to protect Seraphina his entire life, to love her forever. When did that change? Was it when Seraphina first accepted a deal from his men? Or when she picked up a gun and killed for him? Seraphina gradually became like him, her paintbrush stained with blood, yet he began to crave a different kind of purity.
Long-forgotten emotions surged, and Damian had only one thought: he wanted Seraphina back, no matter what it took.
“Tear the world apart if you have to, but find Seraphina!” he yelled into the phone at his subordinate, his voice trembling. “Even if she’s dead, she’ll die in my arms!”
“Boss, she’s been gone for so long. It’ll be hard to find any trace of her now.”
“If you can’t find her, find her mother!” Damian interrupted. “She’s critically ill; she must be in a high-end nursing home. Seraphina wouldn’t skimp on her only family.”
As he hung up, Elara stood at the art studio door. “Damian, who are you looking for?”
**【Chapter 10】**
Damian turned, his tone distant for the first time. “Work matters. You don’t need to worry about them.” Elara’s smile was a little stiff. She sat on the art stool. “What do you want to paint? I’ll paint it for you.”
In a daze, he almost saw a familiar figure. “Paint ‘Starry Night’.”
Elara froze for a moment—that was a very obscure painting.
“Okay.”
Days passed without a single lead. They couldn’t even find a trace of Seraphina’s mother. “Worthless! A bunch of useless fools! You can’t find a living, breathing person?!” Damian swept his desk clean, sending papers flying. “Why are you still standing here? Get out there and find her!” He had never been this agitated. Every day without Seraphina felt like his heart hollowed out a little more.
In the wine cellar, he drank himself into a stupor. Elara pushed the door open, intending to help him back to his room. Damian had been distraught, and at first, she could convince herself it was truly just about work. But then she’d overheard Damian’s conversation in the art studio. Was his wife really dead?
Elara’s hand instinctively went to her noticeably swollen belly. After a moment of hesitation, she knelt down, trying to help Damian up. “Damian, let’s go back to the room. I made you some hangover cure.”
Damian said nothing, his eyes hazy as he stared at her face for a long moment. Suddenly, he reached out and cupped her cheeks, pressing a burning kiss to her lips. Elara blushed, her smile barely forming before she heard him murmur, “Sera… I miss you so much.”
All the blood in her body instantly froze.
The next day, Damian came downstairs to find Elara waiting for him in the living room. Wedding invitations were laid out on the coffee table. Before Damian could speak, Elara tentatively asked, “The doctor says the baby is strong. We can have the wedding now.”
Before, Damian would have been ecstatic. Now, only irritation remained. He put his arm around her. “Have I been too busy lately? Is it affecting you?”
“I just want to know when the wedding will be, and will it be public?” Elara looked up, her eyes filled with sorrow. “If you don’t like me, I can leave.”
Damian stiffened for a moment, then placated her. “Next week. We’ll have the ceremony next week, and it will be public. Don’t overthink things, just rest and take care of yourself, okay?”
After he left, Elara went to Thorne Industries, the company he’d mentioned in his files. She waited outside for three days, asking everyone she met, “Do you know Seraphina Vance?”
Until one person, hearing Seraphina’s name, stared at her suspiciously.
Soon after, Elara was disoriented and shaken, barely remembering how she got home. The basement door was ajar, and screams echoed from inside.
**【Chapter 11】**
Damian was having a man chained and dragged across broken glass. It was utterly barbaric. “Damian Thorne! I already gave you the South American deal! What more do you want?!” the man screamed.
“What’s the South American market compared to my wife?” Damian sneered. “You should have known your fate the moment you laid a hand on her!”
The man spat blood, a mocking glint in his eyes. “The day I sent my men to beat her, you were wrapped around your little mistress! Now you’re pretending to be so devoted? Disgusting!”
“Cut out his tongue.” Damian’s voice was terrifyingly calm. This was his true face—not a grieving prosecutor mourning his late wife, but a ruthless arms magnate, his hands steeped in blood.
Elara fled back to her room, frantically packing her bags. She had to leave. She had to get out of here.
When Damian caught up, he saw Elara’s red-rimmed eyes and knew she’d seen everything. “Elara, those were just tactics. He hurt me, but that was the punishment he deserved.”
Elara, tears still streaming, stopped packing. “Seraphina saved me. When those men tried to hurt me, she shielded me with her own body. She’s so good. I can’t betray her.”
A flicker of panic crossed Damian’s eyes. Elara knew everything. He quickly stepped forward, grabbing her hand, trying to explain. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I had my reasons…” He tightened his grip. “You have to understand me. You should understand me. Aren’t you the most compassionate person I know?”
Elara pushed him away, tears flowing freely. “Do you know why she went to that chapel?”
“Why?” Damian’s heart sank.
“She was there to pray for your lost child. She truly loved you and your baby.”
**【Chapter 12】**
Damian’s outstretched hand fell uselessly to his side. A gut-wrenching roar of agony tore through the mansion. What had he done…
I spent four months in a rehabilitation center in New York, undergoing nine surgeries on my hands. Every night I woke in pain, I’d go to the rooftop for air. That’s where I met Jaxson Reed. He’d broken his leg in a street race and would sneak up to the roof to drink beer, hiding it from his doctors. I asked him if he’d won. He flashed a wild grin. “Of course, sis. By just 0.01 seconds. I never lose.”
On the day I was discharged, he handed me a love letter, blushing, and my dead heart felt like it started beating again. Later, I learned he was the son of a powerful New York crime boss, raised under his family’s protection. When he talked about the family business, his eyes gleamed like a coiled panther, ready to strike. I couldn’t help but be drawn to him, yet because of the shadows of my past, I always kept my distance.
I picked up my paintbrush again, finding a job at a gallery. Jaxson would come pick me up every day after work. Today, I waited for half an hour with no sign of him. Just as I was about to call, someone clapped a hand over my mouth and dragged me into a van.
When the black cloth was ripped off, I saw Damian Thorne’s face.
“Long time no see,” he said.
I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “What do you want? You’re not in charge here.”
He ran his tongue over his reddened cheek, then leaned the other side closer. “Wifey, how about this side too?”
I recoiled, a chill running through me. “We’re divorced. I didn’t stand in your way with Elara. What do you want?”
“I’ve looked for you for a long time. I missed you.” A shadow of sorrow crossed his eyes. He was still wearing our wedding ring. “Come home.”
“Dream on!” I sneered. “Damian Thorne, I hate you. Forever.”
His eyes suddenly reddened. “I know about the baby. Sera, can we start over? This time, I’ll protect you.”
I didn’t bother to reply. My smartwatch was already automatically sending a distress signal—Jaxson had given it to me; it would alert him if I left a safe zone.
Damian rushed me towards a private airfield when Jaxson’s video call suddenly came through. On the screen, Elara was tied beneath a helicopter, cradling a baby. “Let her go, or I’ll send your wife and child on a one-way flight,” Jaxson’s voice was laced with challenge.
I looked at the child, nearly a year old, and my brow furrowed—so he hadn’t split with Elara after all; the child was already quite big. The video ended, and Damian expressionlessly turned off his phone.
“Let me go! He’ll really do it!”
“She’s not as important as you. Sera, Elara means nothing to me compared to you.” His eyes were filled with a terrifying obsession. “For you, I’d give up everything.”
I was stunned by the madness in his eyes. He’d truly lost his mind.
The car sped forward. Just as it turned the corner, a motorcycle suddenly cut in front of us, and bullets instantly shattered the window.
Suddenly, gunfire erupted everywhere.
**【Chapter 13】**
Damian’s men and Jaxson’s crew immediately engaged, fighting with murderous intent. He took a bullet to the abdomen, but still clutched my hand. “Don’t be scared, I’m taking you home.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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For three years, Aubrey Hayes had tried to end her life over a hundred desperate times.
When she woke again, she found herself in a hospital bed, her mind a complete blank.
A middle-aged couple sat by her bed. Seeing her eyes open, they immediately frowned. “How much longer are you going to keep this up?”
“Liam was supposed to marry Clara. You were just a consequence of a drunken mistake, an accident that forced his hand,” the woman said, full of impatience. “It’s normal that he doesn’t love you, or come home. But you? You constantly threaten him with suicide. After all these years, can you name one time he’s visited you after any of these attempts?”
“If you weren’t our biological daughter, we honestly wouldn’t bother with you,” the man sighed, shaking his head. “You’re simply no match for Clara, not in the slightest.”
Aubrey stared at them, bewildered.
She’d lost all her memories, didn’t even know who she was. All she could piece together about her shattered life came from the accusations of this couple who claimed to be her parents.
She was once the Albright heiress, kidnapped as a child. When she was finally found and brought home, she discovered her family had adopted a girl named Clara Miller. Her parents, who should have doted on her, now only had eyes for their adopted daughter. The place that should have been hers was completely taken by another.
Later, she fell in love with Liam Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Enterprises. But his heart, too, belonged to Clara Miller.
Then came that party. Liam, drunk, mistakenly ended up in her room, and he took her.
After a night of reckless abandon, he was forced to marry her. But he also reserved all his coldness and resentment for her.
Her parents didn’t love her, her husband didn’t either. Overwhelmed by despair, powerless to change her fate, she resorted to desperate acts, hoping they might finally notice her, finally care.
“Alright, we need to go back and cook for Clara,” Mr. and Mrs. Albright said, rising from their seats. “You stay here and reflect on your actions.”
The moment the hospital room door clicked shut, a sharp pain pierced Aubrey’s chest.
Even without her memories, the sense of being abandoned by the whole world felt chillingly real.
She couldn’t understand. How could parents not love their biological daughter, but instead lavish affection on an adopted one?
And that man, Liam Sterling…
It was *his* mistake. He went into the wrong room, he misidentified her.
If he was forced to marry her, why couldn’t he treat her well? Why did he push her to the brink with such cruel indifference?
She dared not delve deeper. Just listening to these unfamiliar past events made her heart ache as if being carved by a blunt knife.
What about her former self? How utterly soul-crushing it must have been, day after day, living with parents who couldn’t care less and a husband who outright ignored her?
Aubrey slowly pushed herself up, silently completing her discharge paperwork.
But standing at the hospital entrance, she didn’t know where to go.
She couldn’t recall her parents’ address, nor Liam Sterling’s.
Even more tragically, neither home welcomed her.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the hospital entrance.
Aubrey looked up, seeing a tall, lean man striding purposefully, cradling a delicate figure in his arms.
He wore a sharp black suit, his shoulders broad, incredibly handsome, exuding an undeniable presence with every step.
The girl in his arms was carefully protected, her pale face pressed against his chest. He looked down at her with a tenderness that stung Aubrey’s eyes, his arm tightening possessively, his steps instinctively softening, as if afraid to jostle her.
“Clear the way!”
His voice wasn’t loud, but the onlookers instinctively parted, creating a path.
“Oh my God, is that Liam Sterling?” someone behind her whispered in awe.
“Who else could it be? Who in this city commands such a presence? He’s so impossibly handsome, my knees went weak just looking at him…”
Aubrey froze.
So this was Liam Sterling, her husband.
And the one in his arms was likely Clara Miller, her adopted sister.
As he passed her, his steps faltered almost imperceptibly. His eyes, dark as midnight, swept over her, cold as an ice blade against skin.
But in an instant, he pulled his gaze away, hurrying towards the emergency room with the girl in his arms.
Aubrey’s slender frame trembled slightly.
She didn’t follow, still pondering where she was supposed to go—
The next second, footsteps sounded behind her. She turned, only to find it was Liam Sterling, who had returned.
He grabbed her wrist, his grip so tight she winced. “You’re Rh-negative, aren’t you?”
Without waiting for an answer, he dragged her towards the blood donation room.
“Clara was in a car accident and lost a lot of blood. The hospital blood bank is low. Donate some blood for her.”
“I…”
Aubrey was about to speak when Liam suddenly gripped the back of her head.
He leaned down and kissed her.
The kiss was cold and brief, a mere touch before he pulled away.
“Can you donate now?” His voice was low, devoid of any warmth.
Before Aubrey could fully process it, she was pushed into the blood donation room.
Outside, the nurses’ whispers drifted in clearly:
“That’s Liam Sterling’s wife? The one who tried to end her life over a hundred times? I heard the first time she tried to make him kiss her, the second time for a date, the third time to sleep with him… Always rejected. She’s truly shameless.”
“And now Liam Sterling finally kisses her, but it’s only to make her donate blood for Clara Miller…”
“She’s probably happy and heartbroken at the same time, right? Happy to finally get his kiss, but sad that it’s all for someone else…”
Aubrey lay on the donor chair, watching through the glass window as Liam stood by Clara Miller’s bed, his long fingers gently enveloping her pale hand. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.
Strangely, she felt neither happiness nor heartbreak.
The pain of the needle piercing her vein felt muffled, as if through a thick veil. Even the emotions that should have been gut-wrenching were dulled by her memory loss.
Perhaps forgetting everything was the universe’s mercy to her.
After donating 400cc of blood, Aubrey emerged, her face pale, her vision blurring in and out.
After struggling for a moment, she finally walked up to Liam. “Liam, can you tell me… our home address? In exchange, I can give you a gift.”
Liam frowned. “What game are you playing now? Too many attempts, and you’ve forgotten where you live?”
“No, I have amnesia…”
“The driver is waiting outside,” Liam cut her off. “Have him take you back.”
“Thank you,” Aubrey said softly. “I’ll prepare the gift.”
“Don’t bother,” Liam’s tone was icy. “I’m not interested in any gifts from you, and you don’t need to try and win my affection.”
Aubrey lowered her gaze, a faint, fleeting smile touching her lips.
Is that so?
But this time, you *will* like the gift.
Once in the car, she found her lawyer’s number in her phone contacts and sent a message:
【Hi, I want a divorce and to sever parental ties. Please prepare a divorce agreement and a declaration of severed parental ties for me.】
The lawyer’s reply came quickly: 【Of course, Ms. Hayes. I’ll draft them as soon as possible.】
Aubrey put away her phone, watching the fleeting scenery outside the window.
Amnesia was the universe giving her a chance—a chance to completely escape and start a brand new life.
“Don’t go home yet,” she suddenly told the driver. “Take me to the immigration office.”
The driver clearly paused, looking at her in surprise through the rearview mirror, but still respectfully said, “Certainly, ma’am.”
The immigration procedures went smoothly.
The staff informed her that all her documents would be ready in two weeks.
When she got back into the car, Aubrey hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Please don’t mention today’s events to Mr. Sterling.”
The driver’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Ma’am, Mr. Sterling has always… forbidden us from mentioning you in his presence.”
Aubrey forced a bitter smile.
So Liam Sterling detested her to such an extent that he didn’t even want to hear her name.
Back at the mansion, Aubrey stood in the entryway, looking around. This home felt both familiar and alien.
Familiar because every detail matched her aesthetic, yet alien because it was so cold and quiet, as if no one truly lived there.
She gently traced the embroidered throw pillow on the sofa, thinking that when she had decorated this home, she must have been full of hopeful anticipation for a happy life with Liam.
In the wedding photo hanging on the wall, her eyes were filled with love as she looked at Liam, but his handsome face only showed indifference.
Aubrey shook her head and turned to go upstairs.
Entering the bedroom, Aubrey instinctively pulled open a drawer. A leather-bound diary slipped out and fell to the floor.
She opened the first page. The messy handwriting looked as if it had been written while drunk:
【Today is the first day of my marriage to Liam. He went to his study without saying a word. It’s okay, I’ll wait.】
Flipping through the pages, each entry felt like a knife plunging into her heart:
【My 37th attempt. He still didn’t come to see me. His assistant said Clara had a fever, and he stayed by her bedside all night. I lay in the emergency room, counting the drips until dawn.】
【My 89th attempt. I took sleeping pills. When I woke up, I heard him on the phone in the hallway, saying, “Let her die.” It was then I understood. What hurts more than death is hearing the person you love most wish for your death.】
【My 108th attempt. I’ve decided to give up. If this one doesn’t work, I’ll simply vanish for good. After all, no one in this world cares if I exist.】
Aubrey slammed the diary shut. Her chest felt as if it had been brutally torn open. The scars on her wrists suddenly burned, each one silently screaming of past despair.
She slowly sank to the floor, hugging her knees.
For three years, she had lived so humbly, like a dog begging for scraps, just for a glance from him.
“It’s okay,” Aubrey whispered, wiping away her tears and placing the diary back in the drawer. “Aubrey Hayes, it’s okay if no one loves you.”
The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a small pool of light at her feet.
“As long as you love yourself, you haven’t lost.”
Aubrey lived in the empty mansion for several days. Liam Sterling never returned.
Without memories, without love, she didn’t find the solitude difficult to bear. In fact, she thought it was quite nice to quietly wait for her immigration documents to be processed.
Until her mother’s call shattered the peace.
“Tomorrow is Clara’s birthday. Seven o’clock in the evening, at the Grandview Hotel.” Her mother’s voice was cold and distant. “Don’t be late.”
“I don’t…”
“That’s settled.”
The call was abruptly cut off, not even giving her a chance to refuse.
On the day of the party, Aubrey chose the simplest black dress.
Upon entering, she saw Clara Miller, surrounded by admirers, and Liam Sterling, whom she hadn’t seen in days.
“Clara Miller is so lucky,” two women whispered nearby. “Her adoptive parents dote on her like the apple of their eye, and even Mr. Sterling is so attentive to her.”
“Isn’t she? I heard Mr. Sterling personally arranged this party. Look at that champagne, specially flown in from France, each bottle costs six figures. And those flowers, freshly flown in from Holland this morning. The entire ballroom is decorated like Clara Miller’s favorite Monet garden, costing millions.”
The guests’ murmurs continuously reached her ears.
Aubrey took a sip of her drink, her gaze fixed on Liam Sterling not far away.
He was wearing a black suit today, his shirt collar casually unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone, exuding a hint of lazy aristocracy.
Yet this very man was now half-kneeling, adjusting Clara Miller’s skirt. His usually cold face even bore a smile.
“And now, let’s invite Mr. and Mrs. Albright to offer their blessings to their beloved daughter!”
No sooner had the host’s voice faded than Aubrey’s parents walked onto the stage with Clara Miller.
Mr. Albright cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Today, I have an important announcement. Sixty percent of Albright Industries’ shares will be inherited by Clara Miller.”
A gasp rippled through the audience. Aubrey’s hand tightened around her glass.
At that moment, Liam Sterling also walked onto the stage, pulling a velvet box from his pocket.
When he opened it, inside lay an antique emerald ring.
“Isn’t that the Sterling family heirloom?” someone in the crowd exclaimed. “I heard that emerald ring was left by Mrs. Sterling Senior for her eldest grandson’s wife.”
“Oh my God, giving the family heirloom to his wife’s sister… Mr. Sterling is openly humiliating Aubrey Hayes…”
The ring slowly slid onto Clara Miller’s ring finger, a perfect fit.
“Dad, Mom, Liam, isn’t this… a bit much?” Clara Miller suddenly looked towards the corner, her voice filled with feigned hesitation. “After all, big sister is the biological daughter of the Hayes family, and Liam Sterling’s wife. These things should belong to her, shouldn’t they?”
Hearing this, Mr. and Mrs. Albright immediately grasped her hands. “Nonsense! Aubrey is well-married, with the Sterling family backing her. We naturally need to plan more for you. Giving you the assets is only right.”
Liam Sterling merely stated calmly, “If it weren’t for that accident, this ring would have been yours.”
Aubrey stood in the middle of the crowd, feeling like she was being stripped naked in public.
Her parents’ words were like slaps, Liam Sterling’s words like knives, striking her face repeatedly.
The gazes of the surrounding guests were like spotlights, leaving her nowhere to hide—pitying, mocking, gloating. Every single one of them screamed “pathetic.”
She could even feel Clara Miller’s triumphant gaze, like a victor flaunting her spoils.
In the past, she would have been so heartbroken she’d want to die.
But now, she felt only peace.
Aubrey gently set down her glass. As she turned, she heard someone whisper:
“Look, her eyes are all red…”
“She must be heading to the restroom to cry…”
“How pathetic. Her biological parents and husband both favor the adopted daughter…”
She didn’t stop, walking straight to the restroom.
Her reflection in the mirror showed perfectly applied makeup, not a single tear shed.
Because she had forgotten everything. She had forgotten how humbly she once begged for her parents’ affection, for Liam Sterling’s love. She no longer remembered how many times she had cast aside her dignity, just for a fleeting glance from them.
These people, whom she once humbly looked up to, were now no different from strangers.
Now, she simply needed to quietly wait for her immigration documents to be processed, and then learn to love herself properly.
Aubrey reapplied her lipstick. Just as she was about to leave the restroom, she suddenly froze at the corner of the hallway.
Not far away, Liam Sterling was pinning Clara Miller against the wall, kissing her deeply.
His long fingers threaded through her hair, his other hand tightly gripping her waist, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones. Clara Miller’s head was thrown back, her fair neck forming an elegant arch.
After what felt like an eternity, Liam Sterling finally released her, gently caressing her slightly swollen lips with his thumb. His voice was low, “Satisfied?”
Clara Miller leaned into his embrace, her voice soft and sweet. “Liam, do you think I’m being too demanding? I’ve already accepted your family heirloom, but I still asked for a kiss… If big sister saw us, she’d probably be sad again.”
“I’m just in so much pain. If that accident hadn’t happened back then, we would have been together…”
Liam Sterling’s eyes were calm as he held her even tighter. “Her sadness has nothing to do with me.”
“I never liked her, and I never will in this lifetime.”
“It’s always been you, Clara.”
With that, he lowered his head and kissed her again.
Aubrey stood frozen, her heart clutched by an invisible hand, making it almost impossible to breathe.
She raised a hand to her chest, thinking: *This must be the lingering warmth of my past love for him.*
*Once this last ember dies out, there will be nothing left.*
Liam Sterling and Clara Miller kissed for a full three minutes before turning to leave.
Only after their figures completely vanished did Aubrey emerge from the shadows.
She took a deep breath, straightened her dress, and prepared to return to the ballroom to get her bag and leave.
But just as she entered the main hall, Clara Miller rushed over and grabbed her wrist. “Big sister, if you liked the ring Liam gave me so much, I could have given it to you. Why did you have to steal it?”
Aubrey froze. “Steal what? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend!” Clara Miller’s eyes were red. “I just went to the restroom, and the ring was gone! The waiter said only you came near my bag!”
Mr. and Mrs. Albright arrived, hearing the commotion, and without a word, Mrs. Albright slapped Aubrey. “Aubrey Hayes, you just can’t go a day without causing trouble, can you?!”
Aubrey’s cheek stung, and before she could react, her mother shrieked, “Someone, search her!”
Several waiters immediately surrounded her, roughly tugging at her dress.
Aubrey struggled desperately. “I didn’t steal anything! Let go of me!”
“Rip!”
The sound of tearing fabric filled the air. Aubrey’s shoulder was exposed, and gasps and snickers immediately broke out among the guests.
“Found it!” A waiter pulled the emerald ring from her bag. “It was in here after all!”
Clara Miller took the ring, tears streaming down her face. “Big sister, what do you have to say for yourself now?”
Aubrey trembled, about to speak, when the crowd suddenly parted—
A steady footsteps approached from afar. She looked up to see Liam Sterling walking towards her, his polished dress shoes echoing on the marble floor. Each step felt like it landed directly on Aubrey’s heart.
“Why would you steal it?” His voice was soft, yet it silenced the entire ballroom instantly. “Don’t you know I never considered you my wife?”
Aubrey looked up, meeting his icy gaze.
“Aubrey Hayes, some things don’t belong to you,” his thin lips parted, each word like a poisoned blade. “They never will.”
Aubrey suddenly smiled.
That smile made Liam Sterling’s brow furrow almost imperceptibly.
He had seen her cry, seen her throw tantrums, seen her become hysterical, but he had never seen her smile like this—a smile of release, or perhaps mockery.
“I didn’t steal it.”
Her voice was soft, yet every word was clear. The ballroom chandelier cast tiny lights in her eyes, like tears, or perhaps stars.
“And—”
She took a deep breath, enunciating each word:
“I don’t love you anymore!”
Silence descended upon the hall.
Everyone’s eyes widened, disbelieving their ears.
Aubrey Hayes, the woman who had been desperate for Liam Sterling, saying she no longer loved him?
All eyes focused on Aubrey, faces etched with shock. Only Liam Sterling stood before her, impeccably dressed, his expression cold, not a ripple in his eyes.
“How many times have you played this game of push-and-pull?” His voice was low, laced with undisguised mockery. “I’ve told you, it doesn’t matter how much you act out.”
He leaned slightly, his thin lips barely moving, each word designed to crush her last shred of dignity—
“I don’t love you, and I never will.”
With his words, the surrounding guests finally snapped out of their shock, and whispers erupted like a tide.
“I knew it! How could Ms. Hayes suddenly stop loving Mr. Sterling?”
“Right? She used to try to end her life over a hundred times just to get him to look at her!”
“Tsk, tsk, how pathetic and tragic…”
Aubrey clenched her hands, her nails digging deeply into her palms, but she felt no pain.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say it again—
She wasn’t playing games. She truly, deeply, didn’t love him anymore!
But before she could speak, Mr. Albright sharply interrupted. “Excuse me, everyone. It’s our fault for failing to raise our daughter properly, allowing her to commit such a shameful act of theft!”
He waved his hand coldly, instructing the bodyguards, “Take her and throw her in the hotel’s cold storage. Let her freeze there overnight to clear her head!”
Aubrey’s pupils contracted sharply. She suddenly looked up. “I told you I didn’t steal anything…”
But no one listened to her explanation.
Two bodyguards stepped forward, roughly seizing her wrists. She struggled desperately, but then a sharp pain shot through the back of her neck!
She stumbled backward, her vision blackening, after being struck by the bodyguard’s bat.
In the last second before losing consciousness, she met Liam Sterling’s eyes.
He stood there, watching her coldly, not even a flicker of emotion on his face.
Later, Aubrey was awakened by a biting cold.
Frost coated her eyelashes, and her breath misted in the air. Her limbs were stiff with cold, her blood felt like it had congealed.
The cold storage unit was minus thirty degrees Fahrenheit, and she was only wearing a thin slip. Her exposed skin was already turning blue-purple.
“Can’t die…” She struggled to move her body. “I can’t die…”
Her immigration documents would be ready soon.
She had to leave this place.
Soon, she could start a new life.
She used all her strength, inching her way to the cold storage door. Her fingers, purple with cold, desperately pounded on the heavy metal door.
“Help… me…”
“Is anyone out there… help me…”
Her voice was hoarse and unrecognizable, but there was no response from outside.
Until—
“Stop knocking.”
A soft, laughing voice drifted from beyond the door.
Aubrey froze.
It was Clara Miller.
“Everyone’s celebrating my birthday party right now, who has time to bother with you?” Clara Miller chuckled, her voice laced with unconcealed triumph. “Oh, and here’s something funny—”
“Today’s your birthday too, isn’t it?”
“Too bad no one remembers.”
Aubrey bit down hard on her lip, the taste of blood spreading in her mouth.
“I’m being celebrated in a lavish ballroom, while you’re freezing to death here…” Clara Miller laughed softly. “What if you’re a real heiress, Aubrey Hayes? What if I was just an orphan adopted from a welfare home?”
“You’re still beneath my heel.”
Aubrey closed her eyes, a metallic taste rising in her throat.
Just then, Clara Miller’s phone rang.
She seemed to intentionally put it on speaker, allowing Aubrey to clearly hear the voice on the other end—
“Clara, where did you go?”
It was Liam Sterling.
His voice was low and gentle, with a tenderness Aubrey had never heard directed at her.
“I feel a little dizzy…” Clara Miller’s voice immediately turned delicate. “I’m in the lounge…”
“Wait there, I’ll be right over.”
The call ended, and silence returned to the cold storage.
Hearing Liam Sterling’s tender voice towards Clara Miller, Aubrey slowly closed her eyes. For some reason, she suddenly recalled the long nights she had written about in her diary.
On the yellowed pages, the words were blurred by tears, each stroke her own despair etched onto the paper.
She wrote about Liam Sterling booking an entire revolving restaurant for Clara Miller’s birthday, just so she could see a snowfall;
She wrote about him staying by Clara Miller’s bedside all night when she had a fever, even missing his company’s IPO bell-ringing ceremony;
She wrote about the tender warmth in his eyes when he looked at Clara Miller, like melting spring snow, while his gaze on her was only icy frost.
So many days and nights, she had been like a pathetic voyeur, hiding in the shadows, watching them fall in love.
Thankfully, now, she finally no longer loved him.
This realization made Aubrey’s lips twitch, and she succumbed completely to the darkness.
When she next awoke, Aubrey found herself in her mansion bed.
Loud, exaggerated laughter and cartoon dialogue drifted from outside the door, the volume so high it seemed to shake the walls.
She propped herself up and, pushing the door open, saw Clara Miller sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, snacking on chips, laughing uncontrollably at the TV.
“Big sister, you’re awake?” Clara Miller turned, still smiling. “Oops, sorry, was my anime too loud?”
She deliberately crunched her chips loudly. “I’ve felt a bit stuffy these past few days, and the air here in the mansion is so good. Liam said I could stay a few days to recuperate… You don’t mind, do you, big sister?”
Aubrey instinctively looked at the sofa—
Liam Sterling was sitting there, his long fingers flipping through financial reports, his expression cool and focused behind his gold-rimmed glasses.
The TV was blaring, yet he didn’t even frown.
Aubrey suddenly remembered something written in her diary:
【He lost his temper again today because I was eating an apple beside him. He said the chewing sound bothered his work and told me to leave.】
【Remember, from now on, when he’s in his study, even my breathing must be quiet.】
And now…
Clara Miller rustled her chip bag loudly, exaggerated battle sounds boomed from the anime, but Liam Sterling didn’t even lift his head.
The difference between love and not loving was so stark.
She was about to speak, but Liam Sterling suddenly spoke first. “If it weren’t for that accident back then, this home would have been yours.”
His tone was cold, his gaze still fixed on his documents. “She’s merely taken what isn’t hers. You don’t need to ask her permission.”
“Right, no need to ask my permission,” Aubrey said calmly. “You can stay as long as you like.”
Liam Sterling’s finger, turning a page, paused slightly. He finally looked up at her, his gaze behind his glasses subtly narrowing.
This wasn’t like her.
Normally, she would either cry hysterically or suppress tears with red eyes, never this… calm.
But this slight anomaly only lingered in his mind for a second.
He returned his gaze to his documents.
After all, he never dwelled on anything related to her, much less cared.
Aubrey didn’t care what he thought, simply closing her bedroom door.
All day, Aubrey locked herself in her room, listening to the incessant, grating noises from outside.
Clara Miller cranked the TV volume to maximum to watch variety shows, walked around on the hardwood floors in high heels, and even opened one of Liam Sterling’s treasured bottles of red wine to go with fried chicken.
Every single one of these actions was typically a huge trigger for Liam Sterling.
Once, she had accidentally bumped his bookshelf and earned a cold glare; walking too loudly in slippers would earn her a frown and a sharp correction; let alone touching his red wine… But now, she clearly heard Liam Sterling merely say, “Eat slowly, no one’s taking it from you.”
Aubrey finally emerged for dinner.
The dining table was already laden with dishes. Clara Miller sat beside Liam Sterling, her eyes curved in a radiant smile. “Liam, these are all my favorite dishes!”
“Yes,” Liam Sterling’s gaze was tender. “I haven’t forgotten a single one of your preferences.”
Clara Miller’s face flushed. She turned and saw Aubrey standing by the door, immediately calling out, “Big sister, come eat!”
Aubrey silently walked to the opposite end of the table and sat down.
At this moment, Clara Miller seemed like the lady of the house, and she, Aubrey, merely an uninvited guest.
She took a forkful of the dish in front of her. After two bites, her throat suddenly felt itchy.
She frowned, tried another dish, but the discomfort only grew more intense.
“Big sister, what’s wrong?” Clara Miller suddenly exclaimed. “Why do you have red spots on your arm? Are you having an allergic reaction?”
Aubrey looked down to see her arms indeed covered in red rashes.
Her breathing became increasingly rapid. She tried to speak but no sound came out.
She struggled to point to her bag, where her emergency medication was. Clara Miller frantically rose to check, but accidentally knocked over a steaming hot soup bowl—
“Ah…”
The scalding soup splattered all over Aubrey’s already rash-covered arm, and the intense pain brought tears to her eyes instantly.
She saw Liam Sterling rush forward in a single stride, but it was—
To shield Clara Miller in his arms!
“Did you get burned?” He anxiously checked Clara Miller’s hand, his voice dripping with tender concern. “How could you be so careless?”
Aubrey’s vision blurred in and out. Before losing consciousness, the last thing she saw was Liam Sterling’s retreating back, cradling Clara Miller…
When she woke again, she was in a hospital bed.
A nurse was changing her IV drip. “Your allergy was so severe, you almost died. And you have second-degree burns. Why haven’t any family members come to see you in two days?”
Aubrey opened her mouth, but then heard whispers from outside the door:
“I heard Mr. Sterling booked the entire floor?”
“Yeah, all for Ms. Clara Miller’s minor burn.”
“He spoils her so much. By the time he gets here, her wound will have already healed…”
Aubrey slowly closed her eyes. “I don’t have any family.”
The nurse looked as if she wanted to say more but eventually left silently.
No sooner had the room quieted than her phone rang.
Aubrey fumbled to answer it. A voice, old but full of vigor, came from the other end:
“Girl, it’s Grandpa.”
Aubrey froze.
In her diary, Liam Sterling’s grandfather seemed to be the only elder who had been kind to her.
“Girl, I know all about what’s been happening recently,” Grandpa Sterling’s kind and concerned voice came through the phone. “You’ve suffered. Since Liam married you, he should treat you well. Don’t worry, Grandpa will stand up for you.”
This was the first time since losing her memory that Aubrey felt genuine concern and affection.
Her nose stung, and she almost shed tears. “It’s okay, Grandpa, I’m fine.”
“You always make my heart ache, girl,” Grandpa Sterling sighed. “You’re an heiress, but after being kidnapped, you suffered so much. Your parents don’t care about you, in fact, they’re better to their adopted daughter. And Liam, too…”
“All these years, you’ve given so much for him. He’s picky and hard to please, yet you learned a whole set of massage techniques; for that limited edition tea set he loved, you traveled to over a dozen cities to find it; when he was hospitalized with a stomach ulcer, you cared for him sleeplessly for three days and nights; when his mother passed away, you handled the entire funeral… Yet he treats you so coldly, unable to give you his true heart. He *will* regret it!”
Aubrey stared blankly at the sterile white ceiling. She didn’t remember any of these things, but just hearing them made her heart throb with pain.
“Alright, Grandpa needs to go for a check-up now,” the old man finally said. “Remember, if you ever need anything, just call Grandpa to back you up.”
Shortly after the call ended, the hospital room door was violently pushed open.
Liam Sterling stood at the doorway, impeccably dressed, his eyes icy.
“First, you have an allergic reaction and attempt to end your life, then you go running to Grandpa for help. Aubrey Hayes, besides ending your life and calling Grandpa, do you have any other tricks to get my attention?”
Aubrey wanted to explain, but seeing his mocking gaze, she ultimately just said softly, “I didn’t deliberately attempt to end my life. I forgot I was allergic to peanuts.”
“Forgot about a peanut allergy?” Liam Sterling sneered. “Why don’t you say you forgot who you even are?”
Aubrey quietly looked at him.
Yes, she had forgotten who she was.
She had forgotten the Aubrey Hayes who had been so humble for love, forgotten the profound despair of those years, and forgotten… the deep-seated love she once had for him.
But she didn’t say a word of it.
Perhaps due to Grandpa Sterling’s pressure, Liam Sterling grudgingly stayed to “care” for her. But it was less care and more a form of torment.
When her IV dripped blood back into the tube, he ignored it. When hot water scalded her hand, he remained indifferent. Even when she struggled to breathe and pressed the call button, he was only concerned with calling his assistant: “Has Clara Miller’s burn been redressed?… Hmm, send over the best scar cream.”
The most ironic part was that even though she no longer loved him, Aubrey still felt suffocated.
She couldn’t imagine how her former self, who had been so desperately in love with Liam Sterling, had endured years of this daily torment.
Sycamore leaves drifted outside the window. She suddenly remembered the words written on the last page of her diary:
【If one day I stop loving you, it will be because my heart has died.】
Now, she realized, the Aubrey Hayes who wrote that line had probably died long ago, in countless nights of neglect.
On the day of her discharge, the hospital room was empty.
Aubrey knew Liam Sterling had gone to Clara Miller again.
In three years of marriage, the days he spent by her side could be counted on one hand.
She was used to it, silently waiting for her immigration documents to be approved.
During this time, Clara Miller’s Ins feed was constantly updated—
Swiss skiing, the Eiffel Tower, island sunsets… In the photos, Liam Sterling’s gaze was blindingly tender.
The latest post showed Liam Sterling at the foot of a snowy mountain, his long fingers gently adjusting Clara Miller’s scarf, bending down to tie it tightly, while Clara Miller leaned into his embrace, her smile radiant. The caption read: 【He said he wants to show me the whole world.】
Aubrey calmly scrolled past, as if looking at a stranger’s feed.
Three days later, the immigration office finally called, informing her that her documents were ready.
She immediately took a taxi, picked up her passport and visa, and then went to the law firm to collect her divorce agreement and declaration of severed parental ties.
Everything was in order. She could finally leave this place for good.
Aubrey carefully folded the divorce agreement and the declaration, tucking them into the innermost pocket of her bag.
Just as she zipped it shut, her phone screen lit up.
Clara Miller: 「Big sister, let’s talk.」
Aubrey: 「About what?」
Clara Miller: 「You’ve occupied the position of Mrs. Sterling for three years. Isn’t it time you gave it back to me?」
Aubrey let out a cold laugh, and replied directly: 「It’s already yours.」
She sent the message, then tossed her phone into her bag and walked home without a backward glance.
When she pushed open the front door, the motion-sensor light in the entryway didn’t come on.
She frowned, fumbling for the switch on the wall. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head—
Before consciousness fully faded, she heard Clara Miller’s voice talking to a man.
…
When she next awoke, a biting wind lashed her face. Aubrey’s eyes snapped open, and she found herself dangling over a cliff edge!
Rough ropes dug into her wrists, and below her was a bottomless abyss.
She struggled to turn her head, realizing Clara Miller was also suspended not far from her, her face deathly pale, trembling violently.
“Awake?” The kidnapper stood nearby, a cigarette dangling from his lips, sneering. “Don’t worry, your men will be here soon.”
No sooner had he spoken than the roar of an engine echoed from a distance.
Several black SUVs sped towards them, braking sharply at the cliff edge.
The car doors opened, and Liam Sterling strode out.
He wore a black trench coat, his expression grim, his presence chillingly oppressive.
“Here’s the money, release them,” his voice was low, carrying an undeniable command.
The kidnapper grinned. “As expected of Mr. Sterling, straight to the point.”
He took the box handed to him by a bodyguard. After confirming the amount, he waved his hand. “I’ve given you the people. Mr. Sterling, you can save them yourself.”
With that, he and his crew left without another word.
Aubrey hung suspended in mid-air. The rope was already starting to fray, and loose stones crumbled from the cliff edge, falling into the bottomless darkness.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm.
“Liam! I’m so scared!” Clara Miller cried, tears streaming down her face. “Save me…”
A bodyguard quickly assessed the ropes, his face grave. “Mr. Sterling, the ropes won’t hold much longer. We can only save one person right now.”
Liam Sterling didn’t hesitate for a second, walking directly towards Clara Miller.
At the same time, Mr. and Mrs. Albright’s car arrived.
They scrambled out, seeing the scene at the cliff edge, and immediately cried out, “Clara!”
“Save Clara first! Quick! She’s fragile, she can’t take this kind of ordeal!” Mrs. Albright’s voice was shrill, almost breaking.
Mr. Albright rushed over to help. The three of them worked together, quickly pulling Clara Miller up.
Meanwhile, on Aubrey’s side, the rope had begun to make a groaning, snapping sound.
“Crack!”
She suddenly plunged down a section, the loose stones at the cliff edge tumbled down, disappearing into the bottomless darkness!
“Ma’am!”
A bodyguard lunged forward, desperately gripping the rope.
The rough hemp rope dug into his palm, blood dripping between his fingers, but he finally managed to drag her up.
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“Hello, I’d like to emigrate!”
I, Eleanor Vance, stood at the counter, handing over all my meticulously prepared documents to the official on the other side.
Soon, they stamped the papers, then pulled out another form and passed it back to me.
“Ms. Vance, your application will be processed in fifteen days. Please wait patiently.”
I nodded, turning to walk out. But behind me, I heard the staff whispering, a rustle of hushed voices.
“Was that really Mrs. Thorne? Why would *she* be here to emigrate? Did she and Mr. Thorne finally have a fight?”
“Even if they argued, it shouldn’t be such a big deal, right? Mr. Thorne is famously obsessed with his wife. What could possibly make Mrs. Thorne so resolute?”
“Tell me about it. Five years ago, Mr. Thorne threw her a wedding of the decade that made headlines worldwide, even I, someone who never goes online, heard about it. Three years ago, Mrs. Thorne had a car accident, and when the blood bank ran low, Mr. Thorne, against all opposition, donated a significant amount of his own blood to snatch her back from the brink of death. A year ago, Mrs. Thorne disappeared for just an hour, and Mr. Thorne mobilized every media outlet to search for her globally. Now, if Mrs. Thorne is leaving him like this, without a word, he’ll go absolutely insane…”
Listening to their hushed gossip, I forced a smile, but the self-mockery in my eyes only deepened.
Yes, everyone knew how much Adrian Thorne loved me.
Everyone in their circle knew Adrian Thorne, CEO of Thorne Holdings. In business, he was ruthless, making cutthroat decisions without a second thought. But in his private life? He was notoriously cold, detached, and completely uninterested in women. It was an unspoken rule: stay at least ten feet away from Adrian Thorne.
Until that one gala, when he met me.
He fell in love at first sight and began pursuing me relentlessly, showering me with mansions, luxury cars, and jewelry as if money was no object. Fireworks lit up the sky for three days and three nights, declaring his love. He even once, just because I casually mentioned craving a rare artisanal dessert that had been out of production for years, drove through a blizzard in the middle of the night, scouring three cities. He arrived soaking wet, but holding the still-warm pastry for me.
But what truly made me decide to accept him was the day my parents died in a car accident.
He was in another city, hundreds of miles away, but he abandoned a multi-billion dollar business deal to rush back to me.
When he finally reached me, he was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, yet he gently pulled me into his arms, his gaze filled with a pain that mirrored my own.
“Elly, honey, you still have me. I’ll always be by your side.”
I looked into the profound affection in his eyes, and my heart skipped a few beats.
He’s the one.
I told myself in my heart.
Yet, this man, who supposedly only had eyes for me, couldn’t resist temptation three months ago. He started an affair with his best friend’s sister, Serena Reed, who was staying in our home.
The villa’s sofa, the kitchen, the bed—everywhere bore the traces of their intimacy.
Adrian thought he was so clever, keeping it a secret. But he forgot that there are no secrets in this world.
The moment I learned the truth, I was consumed by agony, despair, and doubt. Finally, the heartbreaking reality sank in, and I decided to leave for good.
The Thorne family had deep government ties, spanning three generations in high-profile positions. That meant no one in their family, including Adrian, was permitted to leave the country.
If I left the country, he’d never find me!
I tucked away my emigration documents, hailed a cab, and headed towards our villa.
The moment I stepped inside Adrian’s villa, a heavy, cloying scent, too sweet and too intimate, slammed into me.
Two figures, who had been hanging decorations on the wall, turned sharply when they heard me.
Adrian froze for a second, then his eyes softened instantly. He walked over and took my hand.
“Sweetheart, why are you wearing so little? Are you cold? I thought you were out with Chloe. Why are you back so soon? I was still preparing a surprise for you.”
A surprise?
I looked up at Adrian, but my gaze involuntarily snagged on his neck.
There, a large patch of hickey marks bloomed.
My eyelashes fluttered slightly. I struggled to suppress the sharp stab of pain in my heart.
Seeing I didn’t respond, Serena Reed, with a syrupy giggle, walked over.
“Eleanor, Adrian is just so in love with you! He’s gone all out for a simple ‘first meeting’ anniversary…”
Serena paused deliberately, then pointed to a pile of overflowing gifts on the sofa.
“Look, these are all gifts Adrian prepared for you!”
I followed Serena’s hand, but what I saw first was the wet stain spreading beneath the pile of gifts.
In that instant, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. The scent from when I first walked in, combined with this new evidence, completely confirmed the truth I had suspected.
Love me?
Adrian’s so-called love for me meant preparing gifts for me while he was intimately entangled with Serena on the sofa, so passionately that they stained a large section of it?
It was a soul-crushing agony, nothing less.
Adrian didn’t notice my distress. He simply put a pre-prepared necklace around my neck, his voice so tender it could melt. “Happy first meeting anniversary, sweetheart. I’ve also prepared a candlelight dinner.”
I trembled all over, shaking my head. “I’m not eating. I… I don’t feel well.”
Every second I spent with Adrian now was torment.
I told him from the start: I have zero tolerance for infidelity. I can’t accept any flaw in a relationship.
If he didn’t want to deal with it, he shouldn’t have pursued me. But since he did, why betray me?
When Adrian heard I wasn’t feeling well, he instantly became frantic, as if I were on my deathbed.
First, he called several private doctors to examine me. When they found nothing wrong, he was still worried, so he sent his assistant to buy a mountain of tonics to boost my energy, then personally made me a glass of warm milk, coaxing me to sleep.
After four or five hours of this commotion, Adrian finally managed to lull me to sleep.
Late that night, I woke up, parched, and decided to get some water.
But the moment I opened my bedroom door, I froze.
The door to the next room was wide open, and the moonlight, stark and unforgiving, cast a harsh glow on two naked bodies tangled on the bed.
“That necklace today was worth a fortune, and I’ve practically begged you for ages, and you never got it for me. Eleanor didn’t do anything, and you just handed all the good stuff to her.”
After their passion, Serena’s legs were still wrapped around his waist, her words dripping with bitterness.
Adrian frowned, pulled away, and sat on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette.
“Have you forgotten your place? I told you I only love Eleanor.”
“If you want to keep this arrangement going, it has to be in secret. If she finds out, you know what will happen.”
Serena’s face paled. She climbed up, her naked body embracing him from behind, whimpering. “I know you love Eleanor, but I love you too! Can’t I even be a little jealous?”
Adrian said nothing. He simply bent down and pulled out a necklace from the drawer—the exact same style as mine, but a different color.
“Don’t give me that teary act. I bought you one too, but you can only wear it in secret. If Eleanor ever finds out, our arrangement ends immediately.”
Serena’s face lit up. She quickly took the necklace and held it against her neck, which was already covered in bruised hickey marks.
“Thank you, Adrian! I knew you still cared about me! But are you really that scared of Eleanor leaving you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I can’t live without her. If she left, I would go insane.”
As his words faded, he pushed her down onto the bed, beginning another round of their twisted game.
The bed creaked loudly with his movements, and Serena’s moans echoed through the air. Standing in the distance, I was silently weeping.
Red-eyed, I stared at Adrian’s face in our wedding photo on the wall.
Adrian, in fifteen days, I’ll be waiting for you to go insane.
The next morning, I was woken by a sudden commotion.
I pushed open my door and saw a disheveled woman in the garden of the adjacent villa, clutching a man’s shirt, screaming hysterically.
“Mr. Jones, I loved you for ten whole years, and I even had several children for you!”
“When we got married, you promised you’d love me forever.”
“It’s only been a few years, and you dare to have an affair behind my back!”
Though it was early morning, many people were out for their lakeside strolls and happened to overhear the dramatic outburst.
As more people gathered in the villa area, the man, a prominent figure in the community, instantly changed his expression. He grabbed the woman and dragged her back into the villa.
“What are you doing? I’ve told you countless times, every man strays eventually!”
I watched, lost in thought, when a warm hand suddenly covered my ears from behind.
“Elly, don’t listen to that filth.”
I didn’t turn around, simply whispered, “Tell me, do all men eventually change?”
Adrian’s body stiffened. He turned me to face him, his eyes filled with earnestness. “I don’t know about other men, but I won’t. Elly, I will only ever love you.”
“You’ll only ever love me? But life is so long.”
Adrian gently hugged me, his warm breath caressing my ear. “Life is long, and I only want you.”
I finally laughed, but a bitter edge laced my voice. “What if? What if you betrayed me?”
“If I ever betrayed you, then may I be struck by lightning and cursed to hell.”
Hearing those words, knowing the full truth, a sharp pain pierced my heart.
“Adrian, you dare to make such a terrible vow? Aren’t you afraid it will actually come true?”
Adrian chuckled softly. “It won’t, because no one knows how much I love you more than I do. If you don’t believe me, I’ll cut out my heart and show it to you. If you still don’t believe me, I’ll give you my entire life.”
My entire life?
Then why couldn’t he control himself?
He still smelled of another woman, yet he whispered the most beautiful words of love to me.
“Eleanor, Adrian, what are you doing?”
A voice suddenly broke the silence from the doorway.
We both turned to see Serena Reed, in a red strapless dress, leaning against the doorframe.
The next moment, I distinctly felt Adrian’s body stiffen. Then, he frowned. “Isn’t it a weekday? Where are you going, dressed like that?”
His tone wasn’t like a brother’s concern for his sister; it was more like a husband questioning his wife about to go out, clearly jealous of her attractive attire.
Hearing the possessiveness in his voice, Serena giggled coyly. “My company is having a networking event, and I’m going to find myself a boyfriend. I won’t be back tonight.”
At her words, Adrian’s face instantly darkened. Serena’s smile widened. “Oh, by the way, Eleanor, do you two have any plans today?”
Adrian snapped back to attention, gripping my hand. “Eleanor and I are going back to the family estate today.”
Serena smiled, left a quick “Say hello for me,” and turned to leave.
Half an hour later, Adrian drove me to the family estate.
Adrian’s parents weren’t particularly fond of me. They felt their son had been utterly infatuated because of me, almost losing his life for her. Plus, after years of marriage, we still had no children. Every time we met, they greeted me with cold, disapproving stares.
Adrian felt for me and tried to minimize our visits, but this time, word came from the estate that his mother hadn’t been well. He had no choice but to bring me to see them.
The moment we walked in, Adrian’s parents, who had been laughing moments before, suddenly grew cold.
Adrian saw their cold expressions were directed at me and instantly flared up. “If you keep this up, Eleanor and I won’t come back anymore.”
At his words, Mr. Thorne angrily slammed his hand on the table. “Impudent! What are you saying? Are you abandoning your parents for a woman?”
Adrian gripped my hand, refusing to back down. “I told you, Eleanor is the love of my life. I’m afraid to even raise my voice around her. Treating her this way, are you trying to tear out your son’s heart?”
“If this happens again, I’ll consider myself without a family!”
No one expected Adrian to be so resolute. The entire living room fell silent.
But as I looked at the man fiercely defending me, I felt no warmth, no gratitude.
Seeing that their son was serious, Mrs. Thorne conceded. “Alright, let’s just eat.”
At the dining table, apart from the clinking of forks and plates, there were only Mrs. Thorne’s occasional cold snorts.
My hand, holding my fork, stiffened.
I knew this was a prelude to Mrs. Thorne lecturing me.
Sure enough, the next second, Mrs. Thorne put down her fork.
“We don’t care about anything else, but you need to give us a grandchild, don’t you?”
“You can’t let our family line end.”
Adrian immediately put down his fork. “I’ve told you, Eleanor is afraid of pain. I won’t let her endure unbearable pain for me. I’d rather never have children!”
Mr. and Mrs. Thorne lost their appetite instantly.
Just as the argument was about to escalate, I suddenly spoke up. “In half a month, Dad, Mom, in half a month, you’ll have a grandson.”
At my words, everyone looked at me in astonishment.
“Elly?” Adrian grabbed my hand. “Didn’t we agree not to have children? You don’t have to sacrifice for me.”
I looked at his self-righteous expression and gave a slight, bitter smile.
I said they would have a grandson, but I didn’t say it would be *my* child.
In half a month, I’d be out of the country. Since he loved Serena so much, and apparently slept with her so many times a day, it would be only natural for *her* to bear his child.
So, I smiled. “It’s our elders’ wish. It should be fulfilled.”
Adrian looked at me, so understanding, and a strange unease flickered in his heart.
I was being a little too understanding, too strange.
Mr. and Mrs. Thorne’s faces shifted from anger to joy. “That’s more like it.”
Adrian still felt something was off and was about to ask more, but his phone suddenly vibrated. He glanced at it, and his expression subtly changed.
I was sitting close, and with just a glance, I saw it was from Serena Reed.
[Adrian, a guy just hit on me and asked for my number. Should I give it to him?]
I silently counted down. One second, two seconds, three seconds…
Finally, on the third second, Adrian stood up. “Excuse me, Elly, I have something to do at the office. You eat slowly here; I’ll come pick you up when I’m done.”
He didn’t wait for my reply, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out.
As soon as Adrian left, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne instantly lost all restraint, glaring at me and launching into a tirade.
“Tell me, how many years have you been married? Your belly is still empty. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“You come from a small family, and your parents are both gone. If Adrian hadn’t liked you, do you think you’d be Mrs. Thorne? Marrying you brought us nothing but endless misfortune.”
“Why are you crying? Don’t even *think* about running to Adrian with your complaints later. Every wife gets criticized; my son is far too busy for your petty grievances!”
From morning until afternoon, I was scolded for five solid hours.
It wasn’t until evening that Adrian finally returned to pick me up.
The car drove smoothly on the way home when I suddenly spoke up. “Are you done with everything at the office?”
Adrian paused, then said gently, “Yes, it’s all handled.”
As he spoke, his index finger tapped the steering wheel.
It was an unconscious habit he had when he was pleased.
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The Day My Heart Broke
Harper had fallen for her brother’s friend.
He was six years her senior, so she’d kept her crush a carefully guarded secret.
Until one time, she just couldn’t resist stealing a kiss from him in the dim light while he was drunk. As she turned to flee, she crashed into his suddenly open eyes.
He lazily lifted his eyelids. “Want me to teach you how to kiss, huh? Too bad I’m not interested in little girls.”
Her face flushed crimson, but she still gathered her courage. “So you think I’m too young? That’s okay, I’ll grow up!”
He paused, then smiled. “Alright then. When you turn 22, if you still like me, I’ll consider it.”
In that moment, her heart pounded like a drum. From then on, she clung to him every day until she turned 22.
She couldn’t wait to find him and have him fulfill his promise, but at the VIP room door, she heard a baby’s cries.
She froze for a few seconds, then focused her gaze. Adrian Knight was holding a wailing baby, trying to soothe it.
The circle of guys around him all covered their ears, looking utterly tormented.
“Adrian, you’re really going all out. To reject that little girl, you actually got a baby to pretend you’re a dad?”
Harper’s mind buzzed, then went completely blank.
“What else?” Adrian Knight’s voice held his familiar lazy drawl. “She’s 22 today, here to claim that old promise.”
“You really dislike Harper that much? The girl’s actually pretty good, beautiful and sweet, and she’s totally devoted to you…”
“It’s not about liking or disliking her.” Adrian Knight’s voice suddenly deepened. “You guys know who I’ve always had in my heart.”
The VIP room fell silent for a moment, then erupted in knowing laughter.
“Willow! No wonder… I’m telling you, you overthink too much. With a face like yours, who wouldn’t be smitten? Willow couldn’t possibly say no, could she? You just cherish her too much.”
“All these years, I didn’t know how to say it, afraid I’d lose her as a friend if I did. Harper’s situation… it’s a good opportunity, actually.”
Adrian Knight’s voice was laced with a smile. “I told Willow there’s a girl who’s been clinging to me, and I don’t know how to get rid of her. I asked her to pretend to be my girlfriend for a while. Then, I’ll show up with her and this ‘borrowed’ baby in front of that little girl, and we’ll even stage a wedding. That way, Harper will give up on me, and it’ll also help move things along with Willow. After the fake wedding, I’ll confess my feelings to Willow right then and there.”
Hearing Adrian Knight’s two-birds-one-stone plan, everyone ‘tsk-tsked’ in amazement, unable to stop themselves from pounding the table in approval.
Amidst the burst of laughter, no one noticed Harper standing outside the VIP room.
The cake box slipped from her hands, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
She no longer had the courage to push open the door. Tears streamed down her face as she turned and ran, her mind a blur.
The rain outside the club was heavy. Harper ran quickly, letting the downpour drench the dress she had carefully prepared.
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Aurora Evans had secretly sent Adrian Thorne’s sugar baby out of the country.
That very night, he retaliated by kidnapping her parents, demanding the sugar baby’s whereabouts in exchange for their lives.
Adrian shoved his phone in front of her. On the screen, her parents were tied to chairs, a ticking time bomb strapped to their chests, the digital countdown relentlessly dwindling.
00:59:59
00:59:58
He sat across from her, impeccably dressed in a suit, his long fingers lightly tapping the table, as if waiting for a mundane contract to be signed.
“Aurora, you have fifty-nine minutes.” His voice was calm, almost tender. “Tell me, where did you send Seraphina?”
A cold dread seeped into Aurora, her throat constricting, unable to utter a single word.
This was his third time asking.
The first time, he asked where Seraphina Reed had gone. She remained silent.
The second time, he gripped her chin, his thumb caressing her lips, his voice low and dangerous: “Aurora, stop being childish.”
Now, the third time.
He was using her parents’ lives to force her.
“Adrian…” Her voice trembled. “Those are my parents. They’re the most important people to me…”
He let out a soft laugh, but his eyes were terrifyingly cold. “Oh really? Then when you sent Seraphina away, why didn’t you consider how important she is to *me*?”
Aurora stared at him, a sudden, bitter laugh catching in her throat.
Important?
He had told her those other women were just for fun, easy to discard once he tired of them.
He had sworn she was the only one he truly loved.
But now, for Seraphina Reed, he was willing to kill her parents.
“Adrian,” her voice was hoarse, unrecognizable. “If I don’t tell you, will you really let them die?”
He leaned slightly forward, his dark eyes reflecting her pale face. “You can try me.”
Aurora trembled uncontrollably, tears splashing onto the table.
She couldn’t fathom how things had spiraled to this point.
Adrian Thorne, who had once loved her so genuinely.
Years ago, she was just a girl from an ordinary family, while Adrian was the heir to one of the most powerful families in the city’s elite circles, privileged from birth, entitled and arrogant, never one to bow down to anyone.
Yet, he fell in love with her at first sight.
His pursuit of her became a grand campaign of declarations of love, each one a sensation that swept through the city.
Giant rose displays lowered by helicopter, LED confessions plastered across the entire financial district, even a city-wide fireworks display just for her on her birthday.
She was moved, but her parents vehemently opposed the match.
They knew too well what elite circles were like—powerful men always had their wives at home, but plenty of flings on the side. The love of the privileged was never a fairytale.
They wanted her to marry someone from a similar background, but Adrian knelt at her family’s doorstep for an entire day and night, shedding all his pride, just for a chance to marry her.
Her parents eventually softened.
After their marriage, he pampered her beyond measure, accommodating her every whim.
When she had painful periods, he’d fly back overnight from abroad just to make her special comfort tea.
She casually mentioned wanting that specific pastry from the old bakery on the other side of town, and he’d drive halfway across the city to get it for her.
She thought she had married the right man.
Until, she first heard the name “Seraphina Reed.”
It was Adrian’s assistant who mentioned it in casual conversation, talking about a college student who had staged a fall during Adrian’s speech to get his attention, a trick as old as time.
Aurora smiled, dismissing it. After all, countless women tried to snag him, but he had always been devoted to her.
But the second time she heard it, it was in bed.
He was above her, and in the throes of passion, he whispered, “Seraphina.”
In that moment, she felt as if she’d been plunged into an icy abyss.
She confronted him, but he held her, explaining that he *had* considered taking Seraphina as a sugar baby, but it was just a casual fling to keep on the side.
“Everyone in our circle does this, Aurora. You’re still the one I love most, that will never change.”
But then, he became increasingly blatant.
He bought Seraphina jewelry, gifted her luxury homes, and even took her to private parties. The rumors spiraled, becoming the talk of the town.
She cried, she argued, but he no longer soothed her as he once did. He’d just coldly say, “Stop being unreasonable.”
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and sent Seraphina out of the country.
But she never expected his reaction to be so extreme. He kidnapped her parents, strapped bombs to them, all to force her to reveal Seraphina’s whereabouts.
“She’s in Switzerland.” Her voice trembled. “Zurich, in that villa under my name.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, as if judging the truthfulness of her words, then pulled out his phone and made a call.
Once confirmed, he grabbed his suit jacket, his steps urgent, ready to retrieve Seraphina.
“What about my parents?” She lunged, grabbing his sleeve. “You promised you’d let them go if I told you!”
He turned back to her, his gaze indifferent. “The abandoned factory in the South End. Go find them yourself.”
Aurora stumbled out the door, driving frantically towards the South End.
When she found them, there were only ten minutes left on the bomb’s timer.
Her parents were tied to chairs, their mouths gagged. The moment they saw her, they shook their heads wildly, urging her to leave.
She rushed over, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the ropes, but the bomb’s countdown ticked like a death knell.
00:03:2
00:03:20
She couldn’t untie them, tears streaming down her face in desperation.
Her father suddenly shoved her with all his might. She staggered back. The next second, he forcefully launched his body into the bomb—
“Dad—!!!”
The explosion was deafening, the heatwave knocking her off her feet.
She fell heavily to the ground, her vision blurring crimson.
…
When Aurora next awoke, she was in a hospital.
Her parents had suffered severe injuries, but thankfully, they were alive.
She knelt beside their beds, weeping as she apologized. “I’m so sorry… I chose the wrong man…”
Mrs. Evans weakly raised a hand, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Foolish girl, you can always start over.”
Aurora shook her head. “He won’t let me go.”
After first learning about Seraphina, she couldn’t accept it and had considered divorce.
But every time she drafted divorce papers, Adrian tore them up.
He claimed Seraphina was just a fling, that he’d eventually cast her aside, that Aurora was his true love, and he’d never let her leave.
Mr. Evans held her hand. “No, Aurora, there’s something you don’t know, and he’s probably forgotten too. The night we agreed to your marriage, your mother and I made him sign a divorce agreement.”
She froze.
“If he ever betrayed you,” Mr. Evans’ voice was soft, “the agreement would become effective, and you could divorce him immediately. Our family… would then disappear forever.”
Aurora was stunned, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.
Her parents had prepared a failsafe for her all along.
…
The next day, Aurora did two things.
First, she, along with Mr. and Mrs. Evans, took the signed divorce agreement to a law firm.
After reviewing it, the lawyer nodded. “The agreement is valid. The divorce is effective immediately.”
Second, their family initiated the paperwork to completely erase their identities.
Once the identity cancellation was complete, Aurora Evans would no longer exist in this world.
And Adrian Thorne would never find her!
Learning that the cancellation process would take half a month, Aurora discussed it with her parents and decided to return to Adrian’s mansion for the time being.
For these two weeks, she had to stay by Adrian’s side, unable to let him detect anything unusual.
Otherwise, with his ruthless methods, none of them would be able to escape.
Upon returning to the villa, Aurora began to pack her things.
The cherished photos, Adrian’s love letters to her, the souvenirs they’d bought during their travels together… she threw them all into the fireplace.
Flames devoured the past, as if burning away a ridiculous dream.
The next day, Aurora went to the backyard.
There was an entire grove of sycamore trees, which Adrian had planted for her himself. He said sycamores symbolized fidelity, like his love for her, never fading.
Aurora picked up an axe and chopped them down, one by one.
The house staff stood at a distance, daring not to approach or stop her. The dull, grating sound of tree trunks breaking was like a stubborn obsession being violently severed.
On the third day, Aurora went to the Lover’s Cliff on the mountain.
A padlock, engraved with their names, hung there. Years ago, Adrian had held her, throwing the key off the cliff, saying they would be locked together forever.
Now, Aurora used pliers to simply snip the chain.
The lock fell to the ground with a sharp clink.
She turned and left, never looking back.
When she returned to the villa, there were two more people in the living room.
Adrian sat on the sofa, and Seraphina leaned into his embrace, her face pale, looking as fragile as if a gust of wind could blow her over.
Aurora walked past them expressionlessly, heading straight upstairs.
“Stop.” Adrian’s voice came, cold and sharp.
Aurora paused, not turning around.
“Do you know why I brought her back?” he asked.
“Don’t care.”
“After you sent Seraphina out of the country, she struggled to adapt to the local environment and didn’t sleep well for days.” His tone was reproachful. “Aurora, apologize to her.”
Aurora finally turned around to face them.
The fragility on Seraphina’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a triumphant smirk in her eyes.
“What if I don’t apologize?” Aurora asked calmly.
“It’s fine, it really is…” Seraphina said, her voice soft and weak. “It’s okay if I suffer a little. After all… you’re the wife.”
Adrian immediately pulled her closer. “Didn’t I tell you not to be so understanding?”
He kissed the top of her head. “From now on, I’ll pamper you. You can do anything you want.”
Aurora forced a twisted smile, finding it utterly sarcastic.
A maid brought in a bowl of calming soup, specially prepared for Seraphina.
Just then, Adrian’s phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID and said softly to Seraphina, “You always get a headache when I talk business. I’ll take this outside. You drink your soup.”
With that, he rose and left.
Aurora stood rooted, her heart feeling as if it had been struck by an axe.
He never used to discuss business out in the open, because of confidential information. But now, for Seraphina, he would even change that habit.
Only Aurora and Seraphina remained in the living room.
The feigned fragility on Seraphina’s face instantly vanished, replaced by the arrogance of a victor.
“See?” she sneered. “Even if you are Mrs. Thorne, and you used your position to send me away, Adrian’s body and soul are both with me.”
Aurora looked at her blandly. “You want him? He’s yours.”
Seraphina paused, then flared with anger. “I don’t need you to *give* him to me! He’ll be mine alone eventually, and your position will be mine too!”
Seeing Aurora unmoved, she became even more furious.
Just then, Adrian’s footsteps were heard from outside.
A hint of viciousness flashed in Seraphina’s eyes. She suddenly picked up the bowl of steaming hot calming soup and deliberately splashed it all over herself!
“Ah!” she shrieked, tears instantly welling up.
When Adrian rushed in, this was the scene he witnessed.
Seraphina was drenched and disheveled, the soup dripping from her clothes, and she was crying as if her heart would break.
“Aurora Evans!” His brows furrowed with barely concealed rage. “Not only will you not apologize, but you dare to do this to her?!”
“I didn’t do it.” Aurora said calmly. “You can check the surveillance cameras.”
“Fine, check them!” he sneered.
Seraphina immediately grabbed his arm, sobbing. “Adrian, it’s not Aurora’s fault… I shouldn’t dream of staying by your side. I’ll leave right now…”
As she took a step, Adrian yanked her back.
“I finally got you back, and now you want to leave my sight again? Are you trying to kill me?”
He held her tightly, as if clutching a lost and precious treasure.
Then, he looked at Aurora, his eyes terrifyingly cold.
“I will get justice for this.”
Aurora was locked in the cold storage.
As the bodyguards dragged her inside, she struggled desperately. “Adrian Thorne! Check the cameras! I didn’t do it!”
He didn’t even spare her a glance, just coldly stated, “No need to check. I only trust her.”
The cold room door slammed shut.
Darkness and frigid air instantly engulfed Aurora.
She curled up in a corner, shivering, but her heart felt even colder than the room.
Was this what he meant by saying she was the one he loved most?
Aurora’s tears fell uncontrollably.
She was always sensitive to cold.
After they married, Adrian spent a fortune installing a constant temperature system in their home, even the outdoor courtyard was perpetually spring-like.
In winter, he would warm her icy hands and feet in his embrace, laughing, “I’ll keep you warm like this for the rest of our lives.”
Thinking back now…
Vows were probably only true the moment they were spoken.
The next day, as Aurora was almost losing consciousness from the cold, the cold room door finally opened.
A bodyguard stood expressionless at the doorway. “Mr. Thorne said that if there’s a next time, the punishment won’t be this lenient.”
She leaned against the wall, staggering out, trembling all over, her teeth chattering.
There wouldn’t be a next time.
Soon, she would make him disappear from her world completely.
That evening, Adrian’s assistant delivered a gown and jewelry, saying she needed to attend a charity auction gala.
Aurora went.
Then, at the entrance to the ballroom, she saw Seraphina Reed.
Seraphina was wearing a haute couture gown, and around her neck was a diamond necklace that Adrian had bought at an auction last month for a seven-figure sum.
Aurora stopped and looked at Adrian. “She’s here too. Why do you still want me to come?”
His expression was bland. “I hadn’t intended to bring her, but she’d never seen this kind of event and wanted to come, so I brought her.”
He paused, his tone casual. “Aurora, don’t be so petty.”
Aurora’s body trembled slightly.
She wasn’t being petty.
He simply hadn’t considered how much she would be talked about and mocked, having the legitimate wife and the sugar baby appear together.
Adrian walked straight in with Seraphina, who intimately linked her arm through his, a sweet smile on her face.
People around them whispered.
“Mr. Thorne and his wife have such a great relationship, they’re so well-matched.”
“You’ve got it wrong. *That* one is Mrs. Thorne. The one next to him… is just a sugar baby.”
The person awkwardly glanced at Aurora, then mumbled, “But Mr. Thorne is so good to her. He dressed her in authentic designer, while the wife got a ‘gift with purchase’… no wonder I got them confused.”
Aurora clenched her hands, her nails digging deeply into her palms.
Once the auction began, Aurora casually bid on a few items.
But no matter what she bid on, Seraphina would add just one dollar to her price.
Low laughter rippled through the room.
“The legitimate wife being bullied by the sugar baby—that’s a first…”
Aurora’s face remained impassive. She simply made a “no limit” bid gesture.
A “no limit” bid meant that no matter how high the price went, she would take the item, no cap.
Seraphina’s face paled. She clutched Adrian’s sleeve, feigning distress. “Adrian, I really love this one…”
Adrian frowned, looking at Aurora. “Aurora, let her have it.”
“No.”
“She can’t make a ‘no limit’ bid, but I can, because I’m your wife, and we have joint marital assets.” She looked at Seraphina, her voice laced with sarcasm. “No matter how much he gives you, you’ll never compare to me.”
Seraphina’s eyes immediately reddened. She stood up abruptly. “You…”
The next second, she suddenly covered her face, crying, “Yes, you’re his wife… I’m just a hidden sugar baby, I shouldn’t have such foolish hopes… Adrian… let’s just end this!”
With that, she turned and ran.
Adrian’s face changed drastically. He grabbed Aurora’s wrist, his grip so powerful it felt like her bones would shatter. “I told you I’d get tired of her eventually! Did you have to force her away?!”
Aurora looked at him calmly. “What she does, or doesn’t do, is none of my concern.”
His eyes darkened. He flung her hand away and strode out, chasing after Seraphina.
Aurora stood still, the gazes around her either mocking or pitying.
But she didn’t care.
Anyway, she would be leaving soon.
But the next morning, Aurora was jolted awake by a news alert on her phone.
【BREAKING! CEO Adrian Thorne’s Wife’s 999 Intimate Photos To Be Auctioned Publicly At Sotheby’s!】
Her blood instantly froze.
Those photos… only Adrian had them.
Aurora shakily dialed his number, her voice hoarse. “The photos… you put them out?”
On the other end of the line, Adrian sneered. “Don’t you love making ‘no limit’ bids?”
“If you don’t want others to see those photos…” his voice was cruel, “then get over there, and make ‘no limit’ bids on every single one!”
In the background, Seraphina’s sweet voice cooed, “Adrian… is that Aurora? I… I should still leave, I shouldn’t stay by your side…”
“Don’t be silly.” His voice instantly softened. Then, intimate kissing sounds came through the phone. “I already stood up for you. Try leaving again, I dare you.”
The call ended at some point.
Aurora felt as if she’d been plunged into an ice cave. She rushed to the auction site.
The moment she pushed open the doors, she was trembling.
The room was filled with men, and on the large screen, her intimate photos scrolled.
There was her sleeping profile, which he once said was adorable and saved specially;
There was her back while showering, which he coaxed her to take, saying he could look at it when he missed her;
And there were naked bed photos of her covered in hickey marks, when he said it was proof of his love for her.
At the auction, the men’s covetous gazes glued themselves to Aurora, their whispered comments slicing into her ears like knives.
“That figure… tsk tsk, Mr. Thorne is truly blessed.”
“I heard Mr. Thorne used to be deeply in love with Mrs. Thorne. Why would he sell her intimate photos now?”
“Got bored, I guess. These elite wives, glorious on the surface, but behind the scenes…”
Every word was like a knife plunging into Aurora’s heart.
She suddenly remembered how possessive Adrian used to be.
That year they vacationed on a tropical island, she wore a backless dress. When a man glanced at her twice, Adrian immediately dragged her back to the hotel, pinning her against the floor-to-ceiling window, possessing her while coaxing her to shout, “Aurora Evans belongs to Adrian Thorne.”
And now, to stand up for another woman, he personally sold her intimate photos for these men to gawk at!
She bid on them one by one. Each time she pressed the bid button, her heart grew colder.
By the time she won the last photo, her love for him was completely exhausted.
As she walked out of the auction house, her phone rang.
“Did you enjoy your ‘no limit’ bidding spree?” Adrian’s voice was mocking.
Aurora clutched her phone, her nails almost digging into her palm. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll divorce you by doing this?”
His tone was remarkably flat, as if speaking to a difficult child. “You can’t. Aurora, if I don’t sign, the divorce won’t happen.”
She remained silent.
He had clearly forgotten that she held a signed divorce agreement he had already approved.
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“Summer, your resignation has been approved by Kieran, but he didn’t seem to notice it was *you* leaving. Should I remind him?”
Hearing the news over the phone, Summer slowly lowered her gaze. “No, it’s fine as it is.”
“But you’ve been his secretary for four years. You’re the one he’s most satisfied with, the one he can’t do without. Are you really sure you don’t want to reconsider?” Ms. Albright pleaded earnestly, but Summer just smiled.
“No one is indispensable in this world. My parents aren’t in good health, and I’m busy heading back home to settle down, maybe finally find someone. Since Kieran approved it, I’ll follow the procedure and hand over my work. I’ll be gone in a month. Thanks.”
After hanging up, Summer continued to clear out her belongings.
She had lived in this villa for three years. She didn’t have too many things, nor too few. Aside from the essentials, she was throwing everything else away.
As she watched the room slowly empty, she felt a momentary lapse, and countless memories surged forth.
Eight years ago, Summer, an ordinary small-town girl from a modest background, got into the University of Northwood. She quickly became best friends with Isla, the heiress of the powerful Thorne family, a prominent name in Newport City.
Despite their vastly different backgrounds, the two girls instantly clicked. They were inseparable, attending classes, eating meals, and shopping together every day.
Slowly, Summer was drawn into Isla’s circle. She met her family, and that’s when she fell for Isla’s older brother, Kieran.
But she buried this secret deep in her heart, never telling anyone.
After graduation, Isla went abroad to study.
Summer stayed in Newport City, applying for jobs, and eventually became Kieran’s secretary, just so she could see him regularly.
Until one unexpected incident, when Kieran was drugged.
Summer was about to call for an ambulance, but he, unable to control himself, pushed her against the wall, his kisses raining down upon her.
After a passionate night, she woke to find him by the window. His sharp, defined profile was partly obscured by the lingering cigarette smoke, making him seem both composed and utterly alone.
Hearing her stir, he turned around, asking only one question.
“Do you like me?”
Summer instinctively wanted to deny it, but he spoke calmly.
“Every time you see me, you blush. You remember every single preference and pet peeve I have. The moment you graduated, you came to work as my secretary…”
“Don’t tell me all of that is a coincidence.”
Every word he uttered made her face flush even deeper, whether from shame or guilt, she couldn’t tell.
In the dead silence, he suddenly handed her a card.
“Last night was an accident. I love someone else, I won’t reciprocate your feelings, and I can’t be responsible for you. Isla mentioned your family isn’t wealthy, so the money on this card should be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Just forget everything that happened.”
Summer was stunned. Only then did she remember that last night, in bed, he had been repeatedly calling out a name.
Seraphina, Xu Qingyao.
According to Isla, Seraphina was Kieran’s unforgettable first love. He loved her so deeply that even when she broke up with him and went abroad, even with a string of rumored boyfriends, he insisted on waiting for her to come back.
Summer remembered Isla once complaining.
“Our Thorne family is usually so cold and unfeeling, how did my brother turn out to be such a hopeless romantic? He’s waited all these years, saying that anyone else besides her would just be settling, and he refuses to settle.”
She deeply resonated with those words. Remembering them now, she suddenly mustered her courage and called out to Kieran, who was about to leave.
“I don’t want your money. I just want you to give me a chance. Kieran, please, try being with me. If she doesn’t come back, or even if… she does come back, but you still haven’t moved on from her, then on that day, I will leave on my own.”
Facing her eyes, which were filled with love, Kieran paused for a few seconds. He simply said, “Suit yourself,” and left.
From then on, Summer was his secretary by day and his private bed partner by night.
Their countless scandalous moments were left in his office, his Maybach, and even against the villa’s floor-to-ceiling windows.
Four years passed. No one knew about their hidden relationship, and she accepted it, content in her role.
Until a few days before his birthday. Summer had prepared many surprises, wanting to celebrate with him.
But by midnight, she didn’t see him. Instead, she saw an Ins post.
“The best birthday gift is to find what was lost.”
Kieran, who never posted on Ins, had shared a photo of himself kissing Seraphina under a sky full of fireworks.
Seeing that picture, the color drained from Summer’s face, and her heart clenched.
She clung to one last sliver of hope and called him.
It was Seraphina who answered. After Summer said “hello” several times without a reply, Seraphina called out to Kieran.
“Kieran, who’s this Summer calling you, not saying anything?”
A moment later, his deep, soft voice came through the speaker to Summer.
“No one important. Don’t worry about it, honey. Go back to sleep.”
In that moment, Summer knew it was time for her to exit the stage.
She packed her belongings, planning to leave, but ran into Kieran at the door.
Since they used to sleep together every day, Summer stayed in his villa for convenience. But now, she couldn’t stay any longer.
Seeing her holding her things, his gaze tightened slightly, but he didn’t try to stop her. “Found a place?”
“Yeah, my old rental. I talked to the landlord, just for a month.”
At that, Kieran’s brow furrowed slightly. “A month? Why?”
Summer was about to explain, but he seemed uninterested, stating flatly, “I’ll drive you.”
She wanted to refuse, but Kieran insisted.
“The snow is too heavy, and it’s late. If anything happened to you, Isla would be upset.”
Summer had no choice but to get in the car.
They had been intimate countless times in this very car, but now, she almost didn’t recognize it.
The car was filled with all sorts of cute stuffed animals. The seat covers had been changed to Hello Kitty, and snacks were everywhere… Summer could barely imagine that a man as decisive, stern, and self-controlled as him would decorate his car like this.
Perhaps noticing her gaze, Kieran offered an explanation.
“Seraphina likes these things.”
Summer understood what he meant. After a long silence, she replied softly.
“You finally got her back, Kieran. I’m truly happy for you.”
Kieran hadn’t expected her to say that. His eyes darkened slightly, and he said nothing more.
Midway, Seraphina called, saying she wanted to build a snowman with him.
He pulled over, wanting to rush to her, but then hesitated, looking at Summer beside him.
Summer knew what he was worried about and opened the car door herself.
“Kieran, I’ll take a taxi home.”
Kieran grunted, getting out to help her with her things.
Her hand slipped, and the box fell to the ground. He bent down, and under the streetlight, his body stiffened for a moment as he saw the scattered items on the ground: love letters with his name on them that were never sent, candid photos of him taken at who knew when, and things he’d casually discarded that she’d secretly picked up and kept…
Summer’s heart pounded, and she frantically gathered the items.
“I’m so sorry.”
Kieran said nothing, just got back in his car, and sped away.
Summer waited alone in the snow for a long time, but no taxi came.
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