Category: English

On New Year’s Eve, my husband got into a fight with someone at a hotel while staying there with my college classmate, Gia. When the police called me to sign some paperwork and pay the fine, I found him comforting Gia, who was sobbing pitifully with tears streaming down her face. As soon as he saw me, a guilty smile tugged at his lips. “Gia’s building was evacuated due to an incident,” he said quickly, “I was just keeping her company.” If this had been in the past, I would’ve broken down, yelling and demanding answers. But tonight, I calmly signed the papers, paid the fine, and brought him out of the police station. Outside, he beamed at me, his face full of relief. “You’re the best, honey. I was so worried you’d be upset with me.” I forced a faint smile. What was there to be upset about? I didn’t love him anymore. Being angry seemed like a waste of energy. “Babe, the car’s parked outside the hotel. Drive us back,” Ewan said as we left the station. I had planned to head straight home after bailing him out, but he insisted on a detour. I didn’t bother questioning him. Instead, I nodded and turned toward the hotel. “You should drive, honey. I had a bit to drink,” he added as he climbed into the backseat. Gia followed suit, slipping in beside him. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I adjusted the mirror and caught sight of a pink sticker on the dashboard. A soft chuckle escaped me, bitter and dry. Since learning Ewan had taken Gia for rides in the passenger seat more times than I could count, I hadn’t set foot in his car. Now, seeing that the front seat had been personalized to suit her tastes, it was hard not to notice how comfortable she had become in claiming her territory. Following my gaze, Ewan flushed slightly and hurried to explain, “Oh, don’t mind that, babe. Gia’s still a kid at heart. You know how they are.” “A kid?” I said flatly, shifting into reverse. Funny how he conveniently forgot Gia and I had graduated the same year. Over the past three years, Ewan treated this car like a treasure, never letting me so much as adjust the air freshener without complaint. Yet, within a year, Gia could redecorate without a word of protest. I couldn’t help but admire her tactics. She had made herself at home so quickly it was almost impressive. Back when this mess started, it was during a dinner party. Gia had been lamenting her struggles at work, and out of some misguided sense of nostalgia for our college years, I asked Ewan to offer her a role as an intern. At first, he griped about her incompetence, calling it a waste of time. But as time went on, they became closer. His complaints lessened, replaced by casual compliments. By the time I caught on to what was happening, it was far too late. Take tonight, for example. He claimed he’d be away on a business trip, yet there he was, comforting Gia while the police waited for someone to pay the fine for his drunken brawl. He had punched a passerby, who was furious and called the police. They were both taken away, which led to what happened next. When I arrived, Ewan was even half-naked, yet he was still comforting Gia, who was crying uncontrollably. If it were in the past, I would have screamed and cursed him out loud. But today, I just signed the papers and bailed him out. Pretending to be indifferent, I asked, “Really? What accident?” Ewan thought for a while and then blurted out, “Uh… Gas leak. Otherwise, she wouldn’t end up in a hotel.” His lie made me sigh. I kept driving, and when we reached an intersection, Ewan seemed to remember something. “Let’s drop Gia off first,” he said. “She’s had a rough night.” I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, watching how his shoulder pressed against hers. Who knew what else they were doing out of sight? “I’m tired,” I replied evenly. “I’d rather head home. You two can figure it out from there.” Gia’s soft, simpering voice chimed in from the backseat. “It’s okay, Ewan. I don’t want to trouble Cici any more tonight. She’s already done so much.” Her tone, full of faux innocence, was enough to make my stomach churn. But Ewan, tipsy and evidently emboldened, snapped at me. “Cici, I told you to stop! Are you deaf?”

“Stop the car! Now!” He slammed a fist against the back of my seat, jolting me. My foot instinctively pressed the brake as I turned to glare at him in disbelief. Was he insane? Didn’t he know I was driving? Before I could scold him, Ewan stormed out of the backseat and yanked open my door. He unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me out. “Ewan, what the hell?” The icy pavement caught my heel, and I slipped, landing hard on the frozen ground. My knee throbbed as it struck the edge of the curb. Ewan glanced down at me, his earlier guilt evaporating completely, replaced by pure irritation. “Cici, stop playing games. What’s the big deal about turning the car around? You’re just being petty because you have a problem with Gia, aren’t you? If you don’t want to drive, I will!” My knee throbbed from where it had slammed against the curb, and I grimaced, biting back the sharp words on the tip of my tongue. But before I could say anything, Ewan had already turned away and climbed into the driver’s seat. The car door slammed shut with a loud thud, and he didn’t spare me another glance. Gia stepped out of the backseat and slid into the passenger seat. As she passed me, she gave me a smug look and pretended to be apologetic. “Cici, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…” she murmured. “Gia! Get in the car. There’s no need to talk to her,” Ewan barked, his voice cutting through the icy air. Gia froze as she pretended to help me up. Then, she nodded obediently and slipped into the passenger seat. “Ewan! You’ve been drinking. You can’t drive!” I shouted, my voice rising in desperation. The only response was the rev of the engine as the car peeled away, disappearing into the night. Standing there in the biting cold, dressed too lightly for the weather, I couldn’t muster the energy to care whether Ewan got pulled over for drunk driving or not. It took me half an hour to flag down a cab, half an hour of shivering in the freezing wind. By the time I stepped through the front door of our apartment, my body was numb, and my heart felt as frozen as my hands. I couldn’t even shed a tear. A year had passed, and my passion for Ewan had died. Ewan was already home, lounging on the couch as if nothing had happened. “You said you were out of town for a business trip. Why did the police call me to pick you up from a fight?” I demanded, my voice colder than the wind outside. For a moment, he faltered, his expression slipping into unease before settling into a defensive scowl. “I told you already, didn’t I? Gia’s building had a gas leak, and they evacuated everyone. I didn’t want to stress you out, so I just said I was out of town. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” His deflection was so clumsy, so transparently false, that I didn’t even have the energy to argue. Instead, I waved him off and retreated to the bedroom, unwilling to waste my breath on another pointless fight. The next morning, I woke up to a fever burning through my body. Every inch of me ached, and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. Ewan noticed my pale face and furrowed brow, and for the first time in months, he seemed genuinely concerned. “Babe, I’m sorry about last night. You know how I get when I’ve had too much to drink. Are you okay? I’ll make you some soup,” he offered, his voice unusually soft. I stayed silent, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Just as he turned to leave the room, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Gia’s name, her caller ID photo smiling mockingly at me.

Ewan hesitated, his phone in hand, staring at the screen for a few moments before reluctantly answering. His face betrayed a flicker of hesitation as though he was torn between wanting to pacify me and the inopportune timing of Gia’s call ruining the fragile truce he’d been trying to build. I turned my head away, unwilling to be part of whatever excuse or justification he was about to make. Seeing my reaction, Ewan sighed and finally answered. “Hello?” “Hi, Ewan. Why didn’t you come to work today?” Gia’s sweet voice came through the receiver, making my stomach churn. Ewan glanced at me. It was as if he wanted to prove to me that he and Gia had nothing to hide. Instead of stepping away or lowering his voice, he replied as though he were dictating the conversation for my benefit. “Cici’s sick. I stayed home to take care of her.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a delicate cough. “Oh no, really? It must’ve been from last night. The cold snap’s been brutal. I’m starting to feel under the weather too. Tell Cici to take care of herself, okay? And, um, Ewan, could you pick up some medicine for me on your way in?” “You’re sick too? What symptoms are you having?” After the call ended, Ewan became visibly distracted. Halfway through making soup, he gave up altogether. “Hey, I should head to the office and check on things,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’ll order some soup for you, and you can grab it from the door when it arrives.” “Got it,” I replied flatly, watching him hurriedly grab his coat. As he left, I felt a strange emptiness settle over me. I wasn’t heartbroken, but being weighed, found wanting, and discarded left a bitter taste in my mouth. Ewan and I met in our second year of college, dated for two years, and got married shortly after graduation. Five years later, the man standing before me now felt like a stranger. Gia had been part of my life, too. She was a friend from college, albeit not a close one. How she developed feelings for Ewan or when she began acting on them, I couldn’t say. In our student days, she’d seemed ordinary enough, bright and cheerful, like most people. It wasn’t until years into adulthood that I realized how easily some people shed their morals under pressure. Ewan’s betrayal blindsided me. He’d always been a bit careless but had never treated our relationship like a joke. Yet, in the span of a single year, he’d managed to unravel everything we had. The soup arrived quickly, but the delivery receipt bore Gia’s name and number, with only the address swapped. The delivery man muttered irritably about unreturned calls as he handed over the bag. I sighed, opened the package, and found a container of seafood soup, something I couldn’t stomach, and a few generic over-the-counter pills that didn’t match my symptoms. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened. Ewan hadn’t ordered these. Gia had. I ended up going to the hospital myself. By the time I’d registered, bought medication, and gotten an IV drip, night had fallen, and snowflakes were gently swirling outside. Ewan eventually tracked me down, looking disheveled and windblown. The first thing out of his mouth, however, was a sharp reprimand. “Didn’t I already order you soup and medicine? Why are you making such a fuss and coming here like you’re trying to get admitted?” I stared at him, then past him, where Gia hovered by the door. The sight of her clinging to the edges of our lives, coupled with Ewan’s obliviousness, made my fatigue and disgust overflow. “Ewan,” I said, my voice calm but resolute, “let’s get a divorce.”

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I had been married to Carlos for 20 years. My long-absent system finally reappeared, telling me that my task was complete and I could go home. So, I let Carlos and his son hand over the last of our ration coupons to the heroine, allowed our son to give up his university admission to her daughter, and simply smiled when the neighbor asked why I seemed so carefree. “Because I’m going home,” I replied with a smile. Little did I know that my departure would drive them mad. “Dear Host, congratulations. Your ‘Villainess Supporting Role’ series mission is now complete. The portal to return to your reality will open in five days. Please prepare accordingly.” Hearing the mechanical voice again after so long, I froze in disbelief. It had been twenty years since I first arrived in this world. Back in my senior year of college, while searching for a job, I had unexpectedly been transported here and bound to a system. Like any romance novel protagonist, I’d assumed my mission was to save the male lead or woo the devoted second male lead. But the system had told me otherwise. My task was simply to ensure the plot progressed smoothly, creating obstacles for the main characters along the way. Once that was clear, the system had vanished, leaving me to fend for myself. If not for its sudden reappearance, I might have forgotten about the task altogether. “You’re daydreaming again. That water’s about to drown the vegetables.” Emma, my neighbor, snapped me out of my trance, snatching the ladle from my hands. Apologizing sheepishly, I crouched down to dig a channel to drain the excess water. After finishing, I took back the ladle and resumed watering. “You look so happy. Is it because Bruce is heading off to university? I’d be over the moon, too, if my son had that opportunity. But, alas, my boy can’t compare to yours. Smart parents, smart kids, huh?” Emma teased as she worked, her laughter infectious. My smile faltered slightly, and I paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s not that. As for university… Bruce told me yesterday he’s not going.” “What?!” Emma gaped at me in shock. “Bruce got into a school that most people could only dream of attending! Why on earth would he not go? Is something wrong at home? You have to talk some sense into him! If you’re struggling, just tell us. We’ll help however we can,” she said earnestly, her concern genuine. Her kindness warmed my heart, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain the real reason. I let out a barely audible sigh. Seeing my silence, Emma furrowed her brow and finished the last ladle of water. “Don’t tell me… it’s because of Molly.” She clicked her tongue in frustration, muttering under her breath. “That Molly and her mother are nothing but trouble. The mother ruined your husband, and now the daughter’s after your son. Shameless, both of them.” In the past, I might have joined in her tirade, venting about my frustrations. But after what the system had just revealed, my mind was elsewhere. Apparently, I had only been meant to stay here for four years. But due to a system malfunction that extended my time, I was now being compensated with a ten-million-dollar reward and a wish upon my return. The thought of such a windfall made my head spin with excitement. With freedom so close, how could I care about the petty dramas of Carlos and his son? So, I politely excused myself from Emma’s complaints and went straight to the team leader to exchange my accumulated labor points for ration and cloth coupons. Catching the last bus into town, I exchanged the coupons for fine fabric and had the shop tailor me a new dress. I even treated myself to a meal at the restaurant I’d always deemed too expensive, relishing every bite. Finally, I strolled home leisurely, carrying a few vegetables and a small piece of meat. After all, I was leaving soon. There was no point in saving my labor points. They’d only end up benefiting Molly and her mother, Zanya.

When I first arrived in this world, Carlos was a bright, promising college student with a sharp mind and a bright future ahead of him. When we got married, everyone said I had hit the jackpot. What they didn’t see, however, were the early mornings I spent selling breakfast on the streets to make ends meet. They didn’t see how Carlos’ mother tormented me daily for not being able to help him climb the social ladder. I didn’t mind back then. After all, Carlos was good to me. He would walk me home when he didn’t have classes, shield me from his mother’s harsh words, and massage my sore back when I woke up exhausted in the middle of the night. I genuinely wanted to change Carlos’ fate and prevent him from ending up alone and disgraced, but I soon realized it was futile. No matter how hard I tried, the predetermined plot couldn’t be altered. Eventually, Carlos fell for the heroine, Zanya. He gave up a lucrative job offer and volunteered to go to the countryside, where he stayed for 18 years. Over those years, I transformed from a naïve, hopeful girl into a worn-out woman who could juggle farm work and housework without batting an eye. Looking at my rough hands and bloated figure, I couldn’t help but smirk bitterly. At least this miserable chapter was finally coming to an end. As I walked past rows of thatched cottages toward the tiny, cramped house we called home, I saw Bruce handing his university acceptance letter and my savings to Zanya’s daughter, Molly. “Molly, you’re a girl, and you need this admission letter more than I do,” he said earnestly. “And take the money. It’s a gift from me and my dad. Life in the city is different from here, and you’ll need it. Please take it.” Carlos, standing nearby, smiled affectionately as he encouraged Zanya and her daughter to accept. After a couple of polite refusals, Zanya finally gave in, her face glowing with gratitude. I stood there watching the scene, amusement tugging at the corners of my mouth. Emma wasn’t wrong. Molly and Zanya were like sirens, luring these men to ruin. Despite wanting to wash my hands of Carlos and Bruce, maternal instinct kicked in. Bruce was still my son, after all. With a frown, I stepped forward and snatched the acceptance letter from Molly’s hands. “Bruce, have you thought this through? Do you understand how hard it was for you to get into college? And what about the consequences if this transfer is discovered?” “Mom!” Bruce interrupted me impatiently. “This is my decision, and Dad agrees with me. Why are you interfering? You’ve lived in the village long enough to know how much harder it is for girls to get into college! You’ve always taught me to be generous, but now you’re being so selfish!” His words stung. I stared at him, my heart heavy with disappointment. How had the son I poured my heart into raising turned into this? “She can take the exam herself if she wants to go to college so badly. Over the years, you and your father have given them ration tickets, meat coupons, and now even the money I saved for your education. Have you ever thought about how we’re supposed to survive?” I turned my gaze toward Zanya and her daughter, frustration boiling inside me. Thanks to Carlos’ endless generosity, Zanya and Molly lived a comfortable life. They didn’t have to do farm work, and Carlos even gave up his job as a scorekeeper so Zanya could have it, making her the most well-off of all the educated youths sent here. Zanya’s eyes filled with tears. She quickly handed the money back to me. “Sherra, this is my fault. Carlos told me the money was just extra, that you didn’t need it. I didn’t think too much about it. Please don’t fight because of me. Molly will take the college exam herself, and I’ll earn the money for her tuition.” “Carlos,” she continued, her voice trembling, “thank you for everything over the years. But to avoid any more misunderstandings with Sherra, we should keep our distance from now on.” She turned to leave, but Carlos grabbed her hand, his face filled with urgency. “Zanya, what are you saying? This family isn’t Sherra’s to dictate. Bruce and I don’t need all this money, but you and Molly do. And what misunderstanding? I’m married; there’s nothing for her to misinterpret. “Come on, take the money and the acceptance letter.” I watched helplessly as Zanya and her daughter walked away with the money and letter. My gaze shifted to Carlos and Bruce, both of whom looked completely unbothered. Disheartened, I tossed the basket I’d been carrying onto the table and turned to leave. This place was suffocating. I needed to escape. But before I could leave, Carlos called after me. “Sherra Thompson, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

I froze mid-step, not because of Carlos’ harsh tone but because of the name he had just used: Sherra Thompson. It had been so long since anyone had called me that. Ever since we were sent to the countryside, people had only known me as “Carlos’ wife,” never by my maiden name. “Why did you have to say that just now?” Carlos demanded, his voice thick with anger. “Zanya grew up spoiled, and being sent here was already a huge blow for her. Did you really have to twist the knife? It’s not like we’re short on money. What was the point of humiliating her like that? Are you really that cruel?” “Exactly!” Bruce chimed in. “Mom, didn’t you see how Molly was about to cry because of you? How could you be so heartless? And besides, Molly’s going to marry me anyway. What difference does it make whose name is on that college admission? Stop making a scene.” I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Of course, they thought I was heartless. They’d never earned those ration tickets or labor points themselves. Ever since Carlos had come to the countryside, his health had been poor, leaving me to do the work of two people just to scrape together enough labor points for food to nurse him back to health. At first, Carlos had been grateful. He’d even cried one night when he saw how rough my hands had become from farmwork, apologizing for not being able to take better care of me. In those moments, I’d believed I’d married the right person. But everything changed when he learned that Zanya wasn’t eating well or sleeping soundly. Suddenly, I no longer mattered. He started giving her our limited ration tickets, leaving me to faint from low blood sugar. He spent nights guarding her door, completely ignoring the fact that I was pregnant. And when his health improved, he worked tirelessly to earn cloth coupons. Not for our son, but because Zanya envied someone else’s pretty clothes. This pattern repeated itself so many times over the past eighteen years that I’d lost count. At first, I’d fought back, even threatened divorce. But every time I looked at my small, helpless son, I’d relent. I’d told myself to endure, just for Bruce. And so I endured, year after year, until now. The sharp pain in my arm brought me back to reality. Carlos’ grip was like a vice, his fingers pressing so hard they turned white, which somehow matched the sickly pallor of his face when he was sick. “Sherra, what’s wrong with you? Answer me!” I thought I’d scream at him, as I had so many times before. Or perhaps I’d cry, demanding answers, begging for fairness. But to my surprise, I felt none of that. Looking at Carlos and Bruce, I felt only exhaustion and disgust. I slapped his hand away, watching him wince and let go. The pressure in my chest eased slightly as I said, “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”

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## For three years, I was nothing more than the secret lover of Lucas Stone, the most powerful and stoic CEO in Silvergate City. And then, I got pregnant. Lucas made it clear from the start—he didn’t like kids. Worse, he was already planning to marry a socialite from one of the wealthiest families in the city, someone “suitable” for his status. But I wasn’t giving up my baby. So, I packed my things, emptied my savings, and disappeared into the night. Four years later, I was living a quiet life in a small town with my son, Leo. Life wasn’t easy, but we managed. Leo was smart, cheerful—and heartbreakingly handsome. Too handsome, in fact. One day, a photo of him went viral online. People couldn’t get enough of his piercing blue eyes and mischievous smile. Seeing an opportunity, I started a livestreaming channel featuring Leo. To my surprise, our little corner of the internet blew up, and I built a career out of it. But with popularity came scrutiny. It didn’t take long for people to figure out I was a single mom. To protect my privacy—and avoid awkward questions—I told everyone the same story: “I’m divorced. My husband passed away.” The narrative worked. My audience loved it. I became a symbol of independent motherhood, a beacon of strength for women everywhere. Life was good. Until one day, I noticed something strange. My top supporter on the platform—a user who consistently sent generous donations—had a profile picture and location eerily familiar to me. No. It couldn’t be. Lucas Stone? The man who wouldn’t know what a livestream was if it hit him in the face? No way. But before I could make sense of it, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find Lucas standing there, towering over me, his dark eyes burning with anger. He didn’t say a word—just pushed me against the wall, his voice low and dangerous. “Widowed?” he growled, his lips curling in a sneer. “Funny, because I don’t remember dying.” Before I could respond, he grabbed Leo’s shirt collar with one hand, lifting him up effortlessly. His gaze turned even darker as he looked at me, his voice dripping with fury. “And this?” he snarled, pointing at Leo. “Care to explain this?”

My Name is Lily Hart, and I Was the Secret Mistress of Silvergate’s Cold-Hearted CEO, Lucas Stone For the past three years, I’ve been Lucas Stone’s hidden lover. Our arrangement has always been simple: no strings, no complications, just business. Until today. Clutching my pregnancy report, I felt both nervous and excited as I walked into his company. Lucas was still in a meeting, so his secretary asked me to wait in his office. That’s when I noticed it—a wedding catalog sitting casually by his computer. Lucas Stone, looking at wedding dresses? For a brief moment, my heart soared. Could it be because of something I’d said? I had once mentioned wanting to take some bridal-style photos, just for fun. Maybe he remembered. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as insignificant to him as I thought. But my fragile hope shattered in the next instant. Through the glass wall, I saw Lucas walking down the hallway. He wasn’t alone. A tall, elegant woman clung to his arm, laughing softly as they walked together. I recognized her immediately. She was the woman I’d seen in his private photo album—the one he once called his “white moonlight.” His first love. I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Of course. Why would Lucas Stone ever care about me? His long-lost love had returned. He was looking at wedding dresses because they were getting engaged. I was nothing more than a convenient distraction—a woman he could discard when the real thing came back. I grew up in a broken home. My mom passed away when I was little, and my dad remarried, starting a new family without me. I was left to live with my grandfather in a rural town. When he suffered a stroke and became bedridden, I was the one who covered his medical bills. By the time I got to college, I was juggling classes and part-time jobs just to pay for tuition and keep my grandfather’s treatments going. Then, during my junior year, I heard that working as a waitress at a nightclub paid four times more than my café job. Desperate, I applied. That’s where I met Lucas Stone. He was drunk that night, drowning in heartbreak from a failed relationship. I was unlucky enough to be assigned to his private room. Before I knew it, he’d pulled me into his suite. The next morning, I could barely stand. My legs were so weak that my manager noticed I hadn’t finished my assigned work and fired me on the spot. I couldn’t explain what had happened. I didn’t dare. All I could do was demand that Lucas compensate me for the job I’d lost. To my surprise, he didn’t just agree—he offered me something else. “A high-paying job,” he said casually. “Take care of me, and you’ll make more than enough.” It was degrading, but I couldn’t say no. I’d already given him my first night. What was the point of holding onto my pride now? And Lucas Stone wasn’t exactly a bad deal. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with abs that looked like they belonged in a movie. His tanned skin and sharp jawline made him look like he’d stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine. Sleeping with him wasn’t exactly a sacrifice. After two seconds of hesitation, I agreed. We signed an agreement: $30,000 a month, on the condition that I would be on call whenever he needed me. When we finalized the deal, he looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t fall for me. I won’t take responsibility.” He didn’t believe in love. And I pretended I didn’t either. For three years, I played my part perfectly. I never asked for more than what we agreed upon. But now his first love was back. He was getting married. Our arrangement was coming to an end. And to make things worse, I was pregnant. This baby couldn’t have come at a worse time. I slipped the ultrasound report back into my bag, my heart sinking. Just then, the office door opened. Lucas walked in, his tailored suit sharp and immaculate, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He sat down at his desk, glancing at me briefly. “What do you need?” I hesitated. For a moment, I wanted to tell him about the pregnancy. But what was the point? He was about to get engaged. The moment our arrangement ended, he’d never think of me or this baby again. And I couldn’t let that happen. This child was all I had, my only family in the world. I couldn’t lose them. So instead, I walked over to him with a smile and poured him a glass of water. “I saw a jewelry set I liked,” I said casually, making up an excuse. Lucas leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes studying me. “What kind of jewelry? Didn’t I just buy you some last month?” “There’s a new jade and diamond necklace from Orlvis. It’s not too expensive—just a little over $20,000. I thought it might look nice on me.” He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll have my secretary take you to buy it later.” Feigning excitement, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Lucas.” For a moment, his usually cold features softened. He reached out to brush his thumb across my cheek, his voice dropping an octave. “That’s all you have for me?” he murmured, his dark eyes flicking to my lips. A good mistress always knows how to read her benefactor. I immediately understood what he wanted. Smiling shyly, I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tilting my head, I leaned in to kiss him, my heart pounding. Even sitting still, Lucas had an overwhelming presence. His lips were cool at first, but the kiss quickly deepened. Before I knew it, he had taken control, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. His breath was hot against my skin, the scent of cedarwood filling the space between us. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me into the private lounge attached to his office. But just as he pressed me down onto the couch, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Panic jolted through me, and I instinctively pushed him away. Lucas frowned, his frustration evident. “What’s wrong?” “I… I got my period,” I stammered, clutching my stomach protectively. “Isn’t it supposed to be next week?” Lucas’s sharp gaze locked onto me, his brows slightly furrowed as though he already knew I was lying. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm and put on a strong front. “I’ve been staying up late a lot recently. My hormones are all over the place. Is that a problem?” He leaned back slightly, his weight lifting off me as a rare note of irritation crept into his voice. “And yet you still thought it was a good idea to come and tease me?” Lucas sat up, straightened his tie, and adjusted his suit, which had been rumpled during our earlier… struggle. Taking the chance, I quickly got up as well, smoothing down my clothes. But I couldn’t let go of my lingering frustration, so I asked, “Lucas, do you even like kids?” “No,” he answered bluntly, without hesitation. Of course. The icy finality in his tone hit me harder than I expected, and I felt my heart sink. Then, as if sensing something, he turned to look at me. “Why are you suddenly asking?” I forced a laugh, keeping my tone light and casual. “Oh, no reason. I just saw a little boy down in the apartment lobby earlier. He was lost, and he was so cute.” Lucas narrowed his eyes, studying me. “You want a kid?” “What? No way,” I replied quickly, waving my hand dismissively. “I just thought he was adorable. Honestly, if it were me, I don’t think I’d ever want to go through the trouble of having one.” “Good,” Lucas said curtly, his tone as cold as ever. He stood, adjusted his cufflinks, and opened the door to the lounge without sparing me another glance. I followed him out, my steps quick to match his. As I left his office building, my resolve solidified. I had to leave. I checked my bank account balance: $50,000. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. My grandfather was still in the hospital, and I was responsible for his medical bills. Even if I left Silvergate for a while, I had to make sure he was taken care of. That $50,000 would have to go to him. And then there was the baby. I’d need at least a year to give birth and raise my child before I could return to see my grandfather. But right now, I didn’t have enough money to cover both my pregnancy and his medical expenses. I needed more. I didn’t have much time left. Sooner or later, my pregnancy would start showing, and Lucas would notice. After a lot of thought, I decided to sell every piece of jewelry, every designer bag, and every luxury gift Lucas had ever given me. It was the only way. At the pawnshop, I watched as the store owner carefully inspected each item. Finally, he came back with a total: $50,000. I stared at him, stunned. “That’s it? These are designer pieces—some of them are limited edition! Lucas spent hundreds of thousands on these!” The man sighed and explained patiently, “Luxury items lose value the moment they’re secondhand. They’re not like gold. This is the best I can offer.” Disappointed, I handed over my bank details and waited for the money to transfer. As I turned to leave, a voice stopped me in my tracks. “Well, well, Lily. Is money so tight these days?” I froze, recognizing the voice immediately. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a sophisticated middle-aged woman dressed in elegant designer clothing. Her presence radiated authority and wealth. It was Lucas’s mother, Helen Stone. Panic gripped me. “No, Mrs. Stone,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Her sharp gaze and air of superiority made it impossible to meet her eyes. I instinctively took a step back, wanting to escape. “Wait,” she said coldly. “I have something to discuss with you.” We ended up in a nearby café. Helen sat across from me, her expression calm yet undeniably condescending. Without a word, she slid a check across the table. “One million dollars,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain. “Leave Lucas. He’s getting engaged soon, and I don’t need you interfering.” For a moment, I was stunned. Then, joy surged through me. One million dollars. With the money I’d just made from selling my things, I’d now have $1.05 million—more than enough to take care of my baby and my grandfather for years. I picked up the check eagerly, unable to hide the excitement in my eyes. Helen raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by how quickly I accepted. Her look of disdain deepened. “That’s all it takes? A million dollars? I thought you’d try to ask for more.” I didn’t care what she thought of me. All that mattered was the check in my hand. With this money, I could finally leave Lucas behind. “Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” I said sincerely. “I promise I’ll honor our agreement. I won’t have anything to do with your son again.” But before I could even finish my sentence, a familiar voice cut through the air like ice. “Won’t have anything to do with me?” I froze. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was—Lucas Stone. He stood just a few feet away, his piercing gaze locked onto me. His face was as breathtaking as ever, but his expression was cold and unreadable. I felt my blood run cold. “What deal are we discussing here?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flicked to the check in my hand, the corners of his mouth tightening. I lowered my head quickly, avoiding his gaze. My hands trembled as I tried to hide the check, but it was too late. Lucas’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes darkened as he stepped closer, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. I didn’t dare say a word.

Helen’s voice was smug as she said, “See, Lucas? This woman is nothing but a gold digger. A million dollars, and she’d walk away without a second thought. All she cares about is our family’s money.” Lucas let out a sharp, icy laugh, grabbing my wrist with force and dragging me toward his car. Once inside, his cold, piercing gaze pinned me in place. “The check,” he demanded. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I carefully handed it over. He snatched it, and without hesitation, tore it into tiny pieces. My heart sank as I watched the check disintegrate, every shred of paper a painful reminder of the money I so desperately needed. But I didn’t dare protest. His eyes bore into mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. “Heartbroken, Lily? Is that it? You think I’m only worth a million dollars to you?” My breath hitched. I had no idea who he was putting on this show of wounded pride for. Was this the same man who, three years ago, made it explicitly clear that we were to keep things strictly transactional? The same man who told me never to fall for him? Now he was the one acting betrayed? And let’s not forget—he’s the one who’s getting engaged. I didn’t answer his question. A million dollars might be nothing to him, but for someone like me, it was everything. Despite the frustration bubbling up inside me, I knew I couldn’t afford to antagonize him. Not yet. Not when I still needed his money. So, I lowered my tone, my voice soft and trembling. “You’re getting engaged, aren’t you?” Tears welled up in my eyes, making me look fragile and heartbroken. For a moment, Lucas’s cold demeanor faltered. His gaze softened, guilt flickering across his face. After a long pause, he finally muttered, “Maybe.” Maybe? What a joke. He was clearly getting engaged, yet he had the audacity to look at me like this—as if he were some tragic hero torn between duty and desire. Still, I played my part. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I whispered, “We’ve been together for three years. I never thought I’d feel this much for you, but… I respect your decision. I just hope you’ll be happy.” Now it was my turn to take the moral high ground. Lucas’s guilt deepened, and his grip on my hand tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. I knew I had him. He sighed, his voice low and heavy with remorse. “I know it was my mother who forced you to leave. I’ll transfer the million dollars to your account myself. If anyone should compensate you, it should be me.” Bingo. Relief flooded through me. The million dollars was still within reach, and I could finally breathe again. For a while, neither of us spoke. Then, Lucas lifted his head, his expression conflicted, his voice hesitant. “We… we’ll end things next month.” Next month? Seriously? What, is he scheduling a breakup like it’s a business meeting? I was furious, but now wasn’t the time to show it. The money hadn’t hit my account yet, and I couldn’t risk blowing everything now. So, instead, I leaned into his chest, pretending to be the perfect, heartbroken girlfriend. “Although it hurts,” I said softly, “I’ll do what you say. I’ll listen to you.” Lucas seemed even more guilt-ridden at my response. He cupped my face gently, his voice warm and tender. “I’m sorry, Lily. I really am.”

For the Next Few Days I had to pretend as if nothing had happened, going about my days catering to Lucas’s every need like usual. Today was his birthday. Lucas is picky—a man with a taste for exclusivity. He only eats custom cakes from Crown Heights Bakery, a private, high-end patisserie. A while back, I wanted to surprise him. So, I enrolled in a private baking class with one of their top pastry chefs, just so I could make him a cake myself. This morning, I went to the bakery bright and early, determined to make him a cake he’d remember. But fate had other plans. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I ran into her. Chloe Young. Lucas’s ture love. I froze, instinctively wanting to avoid her. But to my surprise, she recognized me immediately. “Lily, isn’t it?” There was no point in hiding now. She was a born-and-bred socialite, with access to every whisper and secret in the city. Of course, she’d know who I was. “I didn’t expect Miss Young to know me,” I replied casually, keeping my tone polite. I grabbed the baking tools and ingredients, pretending to be completely unfazed by her presence. “Are you making a cake for Lucas?” Her tone was clipped, as though offended by my indifference. “Hm,” I hummed nonchalantly, keeping my focus on the task at hand. “Well,” she scoffed, “I’ve already ordered his birthday cake. There’s no need for you to bother. It’ll just go to waste—no one’s going to eat what you make anyway.” Her words stung, but I wasn’t about to let her see it. I shot her a sharp glance and replied with a sweet, mocking smile, “Oh, don’t worry. Lucas can have your cake during the day, and mine at night. After all, he spends every night at my place. I’d say our relationship is far more… intimate than yours.” Her face flushed with anger, her composure slipping. “How vulgar!” “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” I shrugged, turning back to my work. Seething, Chloe stormed out of the kitchen, her heels clicking furiously against the tiled floor. For the past three years, I’ve been the one celebrating Lucas’s birthdays with him. But now that Chloe’s back in the picture, I guess I’m no longer needed. That’s fine. If he doesn’t want the cake, I’ll eat it myself. I’ve been craving cake anyway. Making the cake wasn’t easy. My frosting skills were terrible, and it took me over ten tries to get it right. But I enjoyed the process. The chef was patient, walking me through each mistake until I finally produced something presentable. By the time I finished and brought the cake home, it was already afternoon. Exhausted from the morning’s effort—and from my pregnancy—I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost instantly. When I woke up, the sky outside was already dark. A strange sense of loneliness crept over me as I lay there in the empty house. The silence was suffocating, and a wave of sadness washed over me. Lucas hadn’t come home. Of course, he hadn’t. Chloe was the one who mattered to him. He was probably with her now, blowing out candles and celebrating his birthday. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep. But then, the mattress shifted beside me. The faint scent of cedarwood filled the air, familiar and comforting. I opened my eyes to find Lucas sitting next to me, his dark eyes warm with amusement. His voice was soft, almost teasing. “Awake now? Were you not planning to celebrate my birthday with me?” I stared up at him, my emotions suddenly overwhelming me. Tears welled up as I felt a lump in my throat. “You’re back so late,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. Lucas raised an eyebrow. “I left work at four-thirty and came straight home. I’ve been waiting for you—for hours.” I blinked, confused. “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come back.” “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, his tone light. “Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me? Don’t tell me you forgot.” I quickly wiped my tears and sat up. “Oh! I didn’t forget!” Hurrying to the kitchen, I retrieved the cake from the fridge and carried it out to him. “Ta-da!” I said, presenting it with a big grin. “This is your surprise! I made it myself. Is it a good one?” Lucas smiled, a rare, genuine expression. “You put a lot of effort into this,” he said, his voice soft. “Of course I did! So… what’s my reward?” I teased, batting my eyelashes. He chuckled and pulled me close, his voice low and indulgent. “I’ll have my secretary transfer a million dollars to your account—and throw in the deed to this house.” I froze for a moment, stunned by the unexpected generosity. My heart raced, but I quickly composed myself, putting on a show of reluctance. “Lucas, I don’t care about money or property.” He cupped my face gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I care. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.” We ate the cake together on the couch, watching a show. Lucas usually only eats a single slice, but tonight he had several. I rested my head on his lap, gazing up at his sharp jawline. He wasn’t a good man—not by any stretch. But God, he was beautiful. I placed a hand on my stomach, thinking about the baby. If they inherited even half of Lucas’s looks, they’d grow up to be stunning. Then a thought occurred to me. Lucas had said he came straight home after work. Did that mean he hadn’t celebrated with Chloe? Was it possible that, deep down, I still meant something to him? Unable to stop myself, I called his name softly. He didn’t look away from the screen, but his voice was warm. “Yeah?” “If I… if I were pregnant, would you want the baby?” That got his attention. His head snapped down, and his hand instinctively rested on my stomach. His gaze was serious, searching. “Are you pregnant?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. I hesitated, my heart pounding. “No… I mean, what if I were?” Lucas thought for a moment, his hand still on my stomach. “I don’t like kids. Never have. But if there was a baby…” I held my breath, waiting for him to finish. But before he could, his phone rang. The ringtone was familiar, and so was the name on the screen. Chloe. Lucas hesitated, then answered the call. I couldn’t make out her words, but her voice was soft and sweet. Lucas’s tone, however, remained neutral, and the call ended quickly. When he hung up, he turned to me. “I have to go back to the estate. Don’t wait up—get some rest.” I nodded quietly, watching him leave. The door clicked shut, and the emptiness of the house returned. I knew where he was going. Back to Chloe.

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I was drowning in the icy river, struggling desperately for my last breath. No one came to save me. As I felt my soul leaving my body, a surge of hatred consumed me. Jack Wilson, the man I had loved so deeply, had been cheating on me for years. The daughter I had cherished as my own was actually the love child of Jack and his dream girl, Chloe Parker. Chloe’s mocking laughter echoed in my ears as I died. My vision turned blood-red, reminiscent of the pool of blood left by my real daughter when she passed away. If I could start over, I would have my revenge – for myself and for my daughter! Suddenly, I heard the faint cry of a baby… I forced my heavy eyelids open. A white ceiling and the smell of disinfectant greeted me. Was I in a hospital? Hadn’t I just drowned in the river? I slowly looked around, taking in the somewhat dated decor that seemed oddly familiar. A sharp pain in my abdomen made me cry out involuntarily. “Sweetheart, you’re finally awake! You scared Mommy to death!” Mommy? I focused my gaze and saw my mother, but a much younger version of her. So… had I been reborn? Ignoring the pain, I sat up abruptly. “Mom, where’s my daughter?” In my previous life, Jack had taken advantage of my postpartum weakness to switch my baby. I wouldn’t let their evil plan succeed this time. My mom gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. I gripped her arm tightly. “Mom, please tell me, where did the baby go?” Unaware of my unusual behavior, my mom tried to reassure me, “Don’t worry, darling. The nurse took the baby for a routine check-up. They’ll bring her back soon.” “Just lie down now. You shouldn’t move around too much after giving birth.” I stared into my mom’s eyes. “Where’s Jack?” Mom smiled, “Oh, he’s such a doting father already. The nurse was just taking the baby for a routine check-up, but he insisted on going along.” What? My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. I couldn’t breathe! No! Absolutely not! I won’t let Jack succeed this time. Despite my discomfort, I jumped out of bed and ran towards the door barefoot. My mom tried to stop me, but I dodged her and rushed to the door, only to collide with someone entering. It was Jack! He was tightly cradling the baby, glaring at me disapprovingly. Seeing how protective he was of this little bastard, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Reborn into a new life, and he had still succeeded. A wave of fury surged through me. If my anger could materialize, Jack would have been incinerated on the spot! “Honey, the floor is cold. Get back to bed quickly!” Jack switched to a facade of concern for me. He thought he was hiding it well, but I could still see the malice and impatience hidden in his eyes. My mom caught up and pulled me back to bed. As soon as I was back in bed, Jack placed the little bastard next to my hand. “Honey, the baby is hungry,” he said. Right on cue, the little bastard started crying. I stared coldly at her. This was the child of that despicable woman, who had stolen my real daughter’s life. She had taken all my love and resources, and in the end, even pushed me into the river. All the scum in the world combined couldn’t match this little bastard. I slowly placed my hand on the little bastard’s neck. I wanted nothing more than to strangle her right then and there. Jack stood there smiling, lost in his own thoughts, not noticing my actions. But it scared my mom, who was watching me closely. “Sweetheart, that’s not how you hold a baby. You need to support the neck from behind.” “Honey, she’s crying because she’s hungry,” Jack said with a smile, picking up the little bastard and trying to place her in my arms. I turned away, lying on my side. “If she’s hungry, she can have formula. I’m tired and need to rest.” I closed my eyes, but all I could see was the blood that had stained the ground when my daughter died. I wouldn’t let any of these bastards off the hook. I had to plan this carefully. Jack had married into my family and was currently working a menial job in my father’s company. Perhaps due to my financial influence, he had perfected the image of an ideal husband in everyone’s eyes. In my previous life, everyone, including myself, thought I had found the best husband in the world. It wasn’t until just before I died that I realized the truth. He called it “enduring humiliation to achieve his goal.” He had been acting all along for a beautiful future with his dream girl. His dream girl, Chloe, had deliberately chosen to get pregnant at the same time as me and had a C-section early to switch our babies. Because she was born prematurely, this little bastard was small and weak. In my previous life, I had gone to great lengths to nurse her back to health. She certainly grew strong enough to push me into the cold river with one hand. Jack was the husband my father had carefully chosen for me. He said he didn’t want me to work too hard and needed someone to help carry the banner of our family business. He had picked Jack from among the scholarship students he sponsored. Dad said Jack was handsome, well-behaved, hardworking, and had great potential. Mom, however, insisted that for a high-status family like ours, I should marry someone of equal standing. But I was attracted by Jack’s facade and agreed, even persuading my mom. That’s how the marriage went ahead smoothly. Now I realize how blind and foolish I was. I hadn’t seen the ugly face behind Jack’s human mask. It’s impossible to know exactly when Jack and Chloe started their affair. But since Chloe’s due date was later than mine, he must have been cheating at least since I was pregnant. Due to my physical condition, I had focused all my attention on the baby since becoming pregnant. I had gradually handed over the family business responsibilities I used to handle to Jack. This time, Jack won’t get his hands on a single penny of my family’s wealth. After my condition stabilized, I moved into the pre-booked luxury postpartum care center. When we got married, the background check on Jack had failed miserably. We hadn’t discovered that he had a dream girl he couldn’t forget. I contacted Uncle Mike, the head of security at our company, and asked him to conduct a detailed investigation into Jack’s background. The fact that Jack had managed to deceive professional investigators before meant he must have planned this for a long time. He had claimed his background was simple – his parents were dead, and he wasn’t in touch with any relatives or friends. My parents and I had felt sorry for his circumstances and tried our best to be good to him, wanting him to feel the warmth of family. Even I had tried to curb my spoiled rich girl attitude, afraid of hurting his fragile glass heart. Looking back now, I was truly a complete fool. This beast who could throw his own daughter into a beggar’s den deserved to have his family ruined and be left all alone. The company was very busy, and most of the time it was just me and the little bastard alone together. Looking at this inherently evil, ungrateful little wolf cub, I had to grip my right hand tightly with my left to resist the urge to strangle her. My precious baby was suffering somewhere unknown, while this little monster was lying in the most luxurious postpartum care center. Perhaps my gaze was too cold, because the little bastard started crying. With two soft sounds, the little brat had soiled herself. In my previous life, I had forced myself to overcome my germaphobia and changed her diapers countless times, wiping her bottom. This time, dream on. Even if her diaper rash spread to her face, what did it have to do with me? I had already refused to breastfeed. Despite Jack’s efforts to control himself, I could still see the ferocity in his eyes. Heh, he must be thinking about how to settle accounts with me in the future. Unfortunately for him, this time, I’ll be the one settling accounts. As a man who married into my family without a penny to his name, he’d be lucky to eat warm shit without me. Even if he’s not happy about it, he can only swallow his pride. My parents thoughtfully sent over imported high-end formula, but I rejected it outright. Chinese people have Chinese stomachs; a hundred-dollar can would do just fine. Even the staff at the postpartum care center seemed to disapprove of me. They said that despite my vast wealth, I was being so harsh on a small infant. They even speculated whether I had an extreme preference for boys over girls.

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The day my husband and I were supposed to finalize our divorce was also the day his first love returned to the country. On my way to the courthouse, I was in a car accident. As the paramedics rushed me to the hospital, I clung to my phone, hoping—praying—that he would call. When his name finally flashed on the screen, I answered with trembling hands. His voice came through, sharp and cold, the first words out of his mouth a scathing accusation: “Annie, what game are you playing now? You’re late.” “Miss, are you heading to the courthouse to get married?” The cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, grinning as he tried to make small talk. I smiled faintly back at him. “No, I’m going there to get divorced.” The smile froze on his face, and for a moment, he looked genuinely awkward. “Oh… uh… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to assume,” he stammered. “It’s fine,” I said gently. “Most people wouldn’t think of divorce as their first guess. It’s not your fault.” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. The atmosphere in the car grew a little tense. After a few beats of silence, he spoke again, his voice hesitant. “If you don’t mind me asking… what happened? Why are you getting divorced?” His question caught me off guard. Realizing how intrusive it might’ve sounded, he quickly added, “I just mean… you’re young, beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you. Why would anyone let it get to this point?” There was genuine curiosity in his tone, even a hint of pity. I let out a soft “oh” and decided there was no harm in telling the truth. “He’s still in love with someone else,” I said lightly. “His first love. She’s back in the country, and now that she’s here, there’s no room for me anymore.” I tried to sound unaffected, brushing it off as something trivial. But the driver fell silent, clearly unsure how to respond. He didn’t ask anything else after that, and I turned my attention to the window, letting the conversation die. A few years ago, his first love, Summer, had left the country. She’d married a wealthy man overseas, and the news had devastated Ethan. He had spiraled, a shell of himself, drowning in his heartbreak. That was when I saw my chance. I’d loved Ethan for as long as he’d loved Summer, and when she disappeared from his life, I swooped in. I was there for him when he was at his lowest, and eventually, I became the one he leaned on. It worked. Ethan and I started dating, and over time, we got engaged and then married. For a few years, Summer’s name stopped haunting our lives. Things were never passionate between us, but we coexisted peacefully, and I thought that might be enough. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it was something.

I thought we’d continue living that way indefinitely—quietly, without excitement, but also without turmoil. Then, a few weeks ago, everything changed. Summer got divorced and announced she was moving back to the country. The moment Ethan found out, it was like a switch flipped inside him. He became a man possessed. If it hadn’t been for his work commitments, I knew he would’ve been on the first flight out to see her. I watched in stunned silence as he transformed before my eyes. The man who had always been so composed and distant suddenly had the wide-eyed excitement of a teenager. He had no hesitation, no shame. Right in front of me, he picked up his phone and called her. I sat there as he asked her one question after another, his voice trembling with excitement. They made plans to meet the moment she returned. When he hung up, he turned to me, his eyes bright with an almost childlike glee. “Annie,” he said, “Summer’s coming back. Let’s get divorced.” He was so eager, so casual, as though I weren’t his wife, as though I were just some placeholder to keep him company while she was gone. Now that the woman he truly loved had returned, I was nothing more than an obstacle. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. For the first time in years, I lost my temper. We fought. In all our time together, we’d never raised our voices at each other. But that day, I screamed, cried, and begged. By the end of it, Ethan was ice-cold. He didn’t look at me as he snapped, “Thursday. Courthouse. Don’t be late.” Then he slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone with the pieces of my broken heart. That night, I cried until I couldn’t breathe. When the tears finally stopped, regret set in. I called him over and over, desperate to take it all back, to apologize, to ask him to stay. But he didn’t answer. When I tried again the next day, I realized he had blocked me. For days, I didn’t see him. Not at home. Not anywhere. Finally, Thursday came. I hesitated for hours, debating whether or not to go. I didn’t want to divorce him. I wanted one more chance to talk to him, to convince him to stay. But the courthouse was the only place I could be sure to find him. I had no other choice.

As I sat in the back of the cab, my thoughts started spiraling, unraveling the calm façade I’d tried so hard to maintain while chatting with the driver. Why? Why had I been the one standing by Ethan all these years, and yet he still couldn’t forget Summer? My fists clenched involuntarily. The sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms was the only thing anchoring me to reality, holding together the fragile pieces of my composure. And then it happened. A truck, out of control and going the wrong way, barreled onto the road. It came out of nowhere, veering straight toward us. The driver saw it too late. There was no time to react. The collision was instant and deafening. In that split second, it felt like the world dissolved into nothingness. The noise around me faded into a distant hum, like static on a broken radio. My body felt weightless, as if it were floating in the air. Even pain seemed to disappear, leaving only an eerie, hollow silence. I didn’t know how much time passed before sensation returned, but when it did, it came back all at once. The pain hit me like a tidal wave, sharp and unrelenting, driving me to the brink of unconsciousness. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire. I barely registered the people around me, their voices muffled as they worked to pull me from the wreckage. They lifted me carefully and placed me on the waiting stretcher. The ambulance doors slammed shut, and as we sped toward the hospital, a faint vibration in my pocket broke through the haze of pain. My phone. It was still intact, somehow, miraculously surviving the crash. And now, it was ringing. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Ethan. Even though I couldn’t move, I just knew. “Please,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. I turned my head toward the nurse, desperation thick in my tone. “Please, answer it for me. Please.” Something in my plea must have moved her, because after a moment of hesitation, she picked up the phone and held it to my ear. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to tell him I was hurt, that I needed him, that I missed him so much I could barely breathe. But before I could say anything—before I could even whisper a single word—his voice came through, cold and biting. “Annie,” he snapped, his tone laced with irritation, “what stupid stunt are you pulling now? You’re late.” 3 Tears streamed down my face, hot and uncontrollable. The pain from the crash was unbearable, but it was nothing compared to the ache his words left behind. What was I to him, really? His partner? A convenient distraction for his loneliness? No, I was less than that. I was air. Invisible, unnoticed, but always there. In the years when Summer was gone, he’d needed me—not because he cared, but because I was just there, filling the empty spaces she left behind. Now that Summer was back, I had become carbon dioxide. Something he couldn’t wait to exhale, discard, and forget. I forced out a bitter, hollow laugh, though it felt more like a gasp. “Hang up,” I said, my voice raw and cracked. The nurse looked at me, her face a mixture of pity and hesitation, but I nodded weakly. She ended the call. I had come to the courthouse not to finalize our divorce but to see him one last time. I wanted to beg him to stay, to give us another chance. But his cold indifference had shattered the fragile dream I’d been clinging to. The truth, raw and brutal, stared me in the face. Ethan did not love me. He never had. Reality hit me like a freight train. My dream of a life with him—of being his wife, of mattering to him—was nothing more than a cruel illusion. I felt the nurse’s sympathetic gaze on me, but I didn’t care. I broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably in the back of the ambulance. The people around me whispered, their voices hushed. “Poor girl,” one of them said. “She must be in so much pain. That crash was brutal.” I wanted to laugh at the irony, but the sound wouldn’t come. The tears fell harder instead. Yes, I was in pain. But it wasn’t the crash that was killing me. No, this was a pain that went deeper than broken bones and torn skin. It was the pain of a thousand dull knives carving through my chest, ripping apart everything I thought I knew about love. Every blade stripped away another piece of my dignity, my pride, my self-worth. And yet, in its cruel, merciless way, the pain also woke me up. It forced me to see the truth I had been too blind to face. Ethan never loved me. And now, I needed to stop loving him. For the first time in years, I felt something stir deep inside me—a spark of clarity, of resolve. I would crawl out of this endless cycle of heartbreak. I would let him go. I would find myself again.

The accident was brutal, but I was lucky—just a broken left leg. When the truck tipped over and came crashing toward me, I thought I was going to die. But somehow, fate decided to spare me. As I lay in the hospital, Ethan texted me. “Why are you standing me up? You’ve ruined my chance to show up with the divorce papers and finally see Summer without guilt.” I stared at his cold, emotionless words, and surprisingly, I smiled. Once I’d made the decision to let go, these words, which would’ve shattered me before, now felt like nothing more than a breeze in passing. I looked at his name pinned at the top of my messaging app. The chat history was pristine—completely empty. He had never initiated a conversation with me, not even once. And I, well, I had learned to be “considerate.” I didn’t bother him with texts, only calling when absolutely necessary. Even then, I used to feel a strange satisfaction just seeing his name at the top of my screen whenever I opened the app. But now, things were different. Scrolling through my feed, I saw his most recent post: a nine-photo collage of a candlelit dinner. Two hands intertwined under the warm glow of the candles, their matching couple rings sparkling as though they were stars themselves. It was the kind of romance I’d never had with him. Once, I had suggested buying wedding rings for us. He had frowned and flatly refused, saying he wasn’t comfortable wearing “extraneous things.” Yet here he was, proudly wearing a couple’s ring. But I had no right to question him. No right to ask why. I glanced at the divorce papers sitting on the bedside table. Without hesitation, I signed them, sealed them in an envelope, and mailed them to Ethan. The nurse knocked softly on my door. “Miss Lane, your discharge papers are ready.” “Thank you,” I said. I had spent two weeks in the hospital. During that time, Ethan hadn’t called, hadn’t visited, hadn’t even asked where I was. I should’ve felt devastated, but instead, I felt a strange sense of relief. I packed my things and glanced at my phone one last time, still open to our empty chat. I didn’t hesitate this time. I blocked him. Before I hit “confirm,” I typed one final message: “Ethan, goodbye forever.”

Life without Ethan felt… quiet. Without him, time slowed down. He left me the house, the car, and even our joint savings—as if he wanted to make a clean break. I didn’t feel sorry for him; he still had his company, his success, and most of all, her. With Summer back in his life, why would he care about material things? Recovering from a broken leg gave me plenty of time to reflect. For years, my entire world had revolved around Ethan. Even my career was built around supporting his. I had been so consumed by him that I forgot I was once an ambitious, top-tier graduate with dreams of my own. As my leg healed, I began sending out résumés, determined to start over. By the time fall rolled around, I was ready to move forward. One crisp autumn afternoon, as I lounged in my rocking chair by the window enjoying the golden sunlight, I received an email. It was an invitation from Simon Crane. Simon Crane—Ethan’s biggest business rival. Over the years, I’d crossed paths with Simon countless times while working alongside Ethan. He was sharp, disciplined, and utterly relentless—a man who seemed more like a machine than a person. I couldn’t imagine him wasting time mocking me, but still, I hesitated. After three minutes of deliberation, I replied, accepting his offer. When Simon arrived to pick me up, his reaction to my slight limp was immediate. His sharp eyes widened in surprise. “It’s been a few months, Annie, and now you’re… disabled?” “Just some lingering effects of a broken leg,” I said casually, brushing it off with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be doubling my salary now that I qualify as a disabled hire?” He smirked. “You’ve got a good attitude.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied smoothly. “It was.” His gaze caught the autumn sunlight, his dark eyes glinting like polished obsidian. I studied him for a moment. The sharp features, broad shoulders, and tapered waist—he was the very definition of unfairly attractive. It was no wonder women fell for him in droves. “Now I see why so many women practically throw themselves at you,” I teased with a grin. Simon raised a brow as he helped me up the steps. “And yet, you’re not one of them?” I chuckled, accepting his assistance. My leg still gave me trouble, and climbing stairs was a challenge. “Let’s be honest, Simon. How many times have we gone head-to-head over business deals? I’ve spent years wanting to tear you apart.” He laughed—a rare, genuine sound. “Fair enough.” When we reached the top, I turned to face him, my expression serious. “Why did you send me that invitation?” I asked. “Be honest.” He didn’t look like he was here to gloat or mock me. But still, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he had ulterior motives. Did he know about my divorce? Was he planning to use me to get under Ethan’s skin? To my surprise, Simon’s answer was simple and sincere. “Annie, you’re a talented woman,” he said, his tone steady. “I respect your abilities. That’s why I invited you.” His words caught me off guard. Before I married Ethan, I had dreamed of building something of my own—a business, a legacy. But those dreams had been buried the moment I saw an opportunity to win Ethan’s love. I had thrown myself into his world, willingly becoming the woman behind the man, sacrificing my ambitions for his. Now, standing in front of Simon, I felt something stir deep inside me. It was time to stop living for someone else. It was time to stand on my own again. “Alright,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Let’s get to work.”

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The chauffeur’s son went all out, sparing no expense, to throw an extravagant birthday party for his little girlfriend. When it came time to pay, surprise! His credit card was frozen. Fuming, he called me in a fit of rage: “Lila Grant, what gives you the right to freeze my credit card? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to not be able to pay here?!” I chuckled coldly and reminded him, “Have you been drinking too much expired milk formula? That card you’re holding happens to be mine. If I freeze my own credit card, how’s that any of your business?” Please. I’m not like the original lovestruck fool I replaced. Why would I, a rich heiress, stoop to chasing after the chauffeur’s son? I woke up in the world of a cliché romance novel. The original heroine, Lila Grant, was the only daughter of the prestigious Grant family in the fictional city of Avalon. She was raised like a princess, showered with love and attention from all directions. This kind of girl had probably never faced rejection in her life, which is why, when the chauffeur’s son, Austin Chase, turned her down after she invited him to hang out, her obsession kicked in. This guy dares to reject me? He’s so different from everyone else. I love it! And so, from that day forward, Lila became Austin’s shadow. At first, maybe she just wanted to conquer him, to see him fall for her like every other boy at school. But clearly, Austin wasn’t buying it. No matter how much she bribed, threatened, or pleaded, his attitude toward her remained stone cold. Eventually, her feelings morphed into full-blown desperation. She started doing everything she could to win his favor. Her dad bought her a brand-new phone? She gave it to Austin and kept using his old hand-me-down. Her mom bought her a gorgeous new necklace? Austin took it and gifted it to his crush, Mia, for her birthday. Even her monthly allowance—$10,000—was mostly spent on Austin. Everyone at school knew how far Lila was willing to go for Austin. No matter how outrageous his demands, as long as he frowned slightly, she’d immediately lower her head and apologize. Rumors started circulating that Lila wasn’t actually the Grant family’s daughter, but the housekeeper’s kid. Supposedly, the only reason she could attend the elite Westbridge Academy was because Austin’s family sponsored her. Honestly, the original Lila was an absolute fool. Just earlier today, the poor girl heard that Austin confessed his love to Mia at her birthday party. She got so worked up that she literally died of anger. Seriously? What kind of spell did Austin cast on her to make a rich heiress lose her mind like this? But now, I’m the one lying on this luxurious, king-sized bed, staring at the absurd balance in my bank account, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. Being a rich heiress is awesome. Forget Austin Chase or whatever-his-name-is. I’m done. I hung up on Austin and immediately blocked his number. Just as I was enjoying my victory, another call came in. A girl’s tearful voice greeted me: “Lila, I know you like Austin, but he loves me! How could you freeze his credit card just because he doesn’t like you?” “Now the whole class is stuck at the hotel because the bill hasn’t been paid! Stop being so petty and unfreeze his card already!” “And you blocked his number too! Do you know how furious he is? If I hadn’t calmed him down, he’d have ended your friendship by now!” I replied coolly, “Good. Let’s end it then. I don’t care.” “Oh, by the way, did Austin not tell you? That card he’s using is mine. I froze my card. How is that any of your business?” “If he wanted to throw you a party, why didn’t he use his own money? Isn’t he supposed to be some big shot? Can’t even afford a birthday bash? What a joke.” The phone was snatched away from the girl, and Austin’s angry voice roared on the other end: “Lila Grant, stop playing these stupid games to get my attention! I’m warning you—unfreeze the card in the next minute, or you’ll regret it!” Wow. He really thought he was the main character, didn’t he? Too bad. Austin was just the chauffeur’s kid. Before I even had the chance to respond, he hung up on me. Great. Saved me the effort of wasting my breath. I calmly blocked the number, got up, and started putting on makeup. I chose an outfit from my walk-in closet, where the selection was bigger than the living room in my old house. Man, being rich is incredible. Designer makeup lined the vanity, and the closet was filled with the latest high-end fashion and handbags. If it weren’t for the fact that I was starving, I’d have stayed there all day trying on clothes! Austin’s dad, John Chase, is my personal driver. In reality, he was originally my dad’s driver, but because the previous owner had a thing for Austin, he insisted on having John drive him around, and, of course, Austin ended up getting a ride too. Funny enough, even though John was technically my driver, he always insisted on waiting for Austin to show up before leaving. There were several times when I was stuck at school after bombing an exam, and John would pick up Austin and leave without me. I’d end up having to take the bus back home. This happened because when I asked John to come back for me, Austin would scold him: “It’s your fault for not studying properly and failing the exam, why should my dad have to run another errand for you? Can’t you just take the bus back like everyone else?” I opened the back door and slid into the car, just as I heard John on the phone. “I got it, I got it, I’ll ask him.” He hung up and turned to look at me, with a hint of reproach in his eyes. “Lila, did you have a fight with Austin? Why did you freeze his credit card? He’s stuck at the hotel, embarrassed in front of the whole class. Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” “Mr. Chase, I call you Mr. Chase out of respect, but you need to know your place. You’re just my driver. Lila is what my parents call me, not what you should be calling me.” “And just so you understand, the credit card your son is holding is mine. I froze MY credit card. What does that have to do with you guys?” John stared at me, his face going through a range of expressions, almost like a painter’s palette. He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. I gave him an address, closed my eyes, and pretended to nap. But when the car stopped, I realized that John had driven us straight to the hotel where Austin was throwing a birthday party for Mia. “Lila, I know you’re upset about Austin being with Mia, but we can’t force feelings, right?” “This hotel was your booking for Austin. You paid for it, and now you’re trying to skip out on the bill. Do you really think that’s the right thing to do?” “Now the whole class is stuck at the hotel because of your actions. Stop throwing a tantrum and just pay the bill.” I stared at John for a moment, then nodded. “Fine, but you have to come with me.” John hesitated, wanting to refuse, but when he saw the look in my eyes, he reluctantly agreed. We walked in, me first, and before we even reached the private room, I could hear the noise and complaints inside. “Lila Grant must’ve lost her mind today—she actually blocked Austin’s number.” “Yeah, Mia tried to call her and she blocked her too. Is it because Austin and Mia are together? Is that too much for her to handle?” “Don’t worry. This happened before, remember? She only lasted an hour before she gave in and apologized to Austin. I bet she’ll last an hour today too.” I pushed the door open, and all eyes turned toward me. I could hear the same two voices laughing as they spoke again: “See, I told you she wouldn’t last. Now she’s rushing to apologize to Austin!” Austin looked at me with a mix of disgust, his smile vanishing in an instant. “Lila Grant, so you decided to show up after all!” He gave me a once-over, then sneered. “It’s Mia’ birthday, and you came empty-handed? Where’s your gift?” When I didn’t answer, he went on, “Fine, no gift? Just send me 100k, and I’ll pick out a bag for Mia. That’ll be your present to her.” I laughed and walked up to him, meeting his gaze directly. “How strange, Mr. Chase. Where would the daughter of a maid like me get 100k to buy Mia a bag?”3 His face shifted, and he stammered, “But, but wasn’t that the salary I gave you?” I raised an eyebrow, about to say something when Mia interrupted. “Forget it, forget it, no gift, no problem. Lila Grant, just pay the bill already, we’re heading out to karaoke!” I blinked in surprise. “What? Why do I have to pay the bill? I’m just the daughter of a maid. Where do you think I’m getting the money to pay for all of you?” I purposely said it loud enough for everyone to hear. “It’s not your money, it’s the money Austin left with you,” someone piped up. “You’re letting your pocket money be managed by your maid’s daughter?” I shot back, dripping sarcasm. The person fell silent. Austin pulled me to the side, lowering his voice: “Lila Grant, what are you trying to do? Why is it so difficult for you to just pay the bill?” I raised an eyebrow, looking at him. “I’m not doing anything, I just suddenly realized I don’t want to be your doormat anymore.” I turned and looked directly at John Chase, who had been trailing behind me. “Mr. Chase, your son’s too broke to pay for his girlfriend’s birthday dinner, seems like you—his dad—should pick up the tab, right?” The moment Austin and John locked eyes, their expressions were… odd. Of course, the rest of the class looked even more bewildered. “Austin is the heir to the Chase family, right? Why is his dad dressed so… plain?” “That suit doesn’t fit, and it’s all wrinkled. Definitely not custom-made.” “No way… this is Austin’s dad? He doesn’t look like a rich guy at all. What’s going on?” The whispers buzzed, and Austin’s face was all shades of green and white. I took the opportunity to deliver the final blow, “This is our driver, Mr. Chase. Austin is his son.” “Mr. Chase, if you’re short on cash, I can call my uncle and ask for a discount.” “Oh, and by the way, you’re fired. As of today, you’re no longer working for my family.” With that, I waved my hand casually and turned, strutting away. This is too funny—thought they could make me the sucker to foot the bill? Not a chance! With that money, I could donate it to kids in the mountains—what’s better than earning some good karma?4 The next day when I went to school, I opened the car door to get in, but before I could even sit down, Austin tried to climb in right behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?” I grabbed the door and stopped him. “Move, we’re going to be late,” he said, shoving me aside before climbing into the car and sitting next to me. He then turned to the driver and said, “Dad, like usual, stop by to pick up Mia first, then take us to school.” The driver turned around, confused, and looked at Austin. John Chase had been fired yesterday. To make sure he didn’t think I was all talk, I’d called my dad to tell him about it. My dad said that his other driver, Mr. Harris, was available and would be picking me up and dropping me off from now on. “Austin Chase, have you lost your memory? I fired your dad yesterday.” “You—get out! Now!” I kicked him hard, sending him tumbling out of the car.

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To help Adeline rise to fame, my wife drugged me and handed me over to be a subject in her human research experiment. In my previous life, I pleaded with my wife to spare me, but she looked at me with disdain and said, “Can’t you stop being so selfish? Can’t you bear to see others succeed?” Ultimately, I was tortured to death by her beloved Adeline. As I lay dying, covered in blood, she was cozy in Adeline’s arms. But fate took pity on me, granting me a second chance at life. This time, I vow to make that deceitful pair pay for their blood debt. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself hovering beside Cora. I watched her anxiously pacing outside the laboratory door. I’d never seen such concern on her face before. Whenever she faced me, there was only sarcasm and disdain. The door opened. Cora immediately rushed to the door and grabbed Declan’s hand, asking with concern, “Declan, how did it go? Was the experiment successful?” Declan didn’t look too pleased. He forced a smile and said, “Sorry, Cora, the experiment failed again. The subject’s rejection response was too strong, and none of the drugs worked.” The “subject” he mentioned was me. The reason I became his human research subject was that my wife had lost her mind. She was so obsessed with supporting her beloved Adeline’s career that she was willing to sacrifice my life. She drugged my coffee and personally delivered me to the operating table. As she left, I begged her not to do it, “Declan’s not performing a legitimate surgery! I’ll die here!” But all I got was her cold response: “You’re lucky he’s doing an experiment on you. Instead of thanking me, you’re being ungrateful.” “You’re full of lies, always talking about life and death to scare me. It won’t work! Even if you die, I won’t care!” With that, she left, her high heels echoing her departure. I could only watch as Declan’s scalpel cut into my skin, the last scene I saw in my previous life. At this moment, Cora had long forgotten about my safety. No, to be accurate, she never cared. She tenderly caressed Declan’s cheek, comforting him, “Declan, the experiment will definitely succeed.” Declan sighed, “Cora, even though you brought Jasper Grey, I still failed. I’m sorry I let you down…” He slumped into a chair, seemingly full of guilt. But I knew it was a ploy to gain Cora’s sympathy, a trick he’d used many times. Sure enough, Cora frowned and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, Declan. Jasper Grey, that selfish liar, should be honored to contribute to your research.” “If it failed, it’s just because his body couldn’t handle it. It’s not your fault!” Having shared a bed with her for years, I didn’t expect her to love me as I loved her, but this was too cruel. She seemed to forget I was lying on a cold dissection table. She began insulting me, just as she had defended Declan countless times before. I clenched my fists tightly, watching the harmonious scene unfold, anger surging through me. Suddenly, a white light appeared, and the Grim Reaper walked up to me, handing me two wooden plaques. Two choices appeared before my eyes. Reincarnation or rebirth for revenge?

I was reborn, back to before the human experiment. The surgery hadn’t started yet. I stabbed my thigh with a small knife to wake myself from the sedative quickly. I hid behind a wall, watching Declan take off his protective clothing and naturally hold Cora’s hand as they walked out. Cora wore a sweet smile, full of girlish tenderness. My heart ached. Deceitful pair. In my previous life, I deceived myself, believing Cora’s lies, thinking they were just close friends and had done nothing wrong, which led to my tragic end. In this life, I won’t deceive myself anymore. As Declan walked, he sighed, and Cora immediately noticed, asking with concern, “Declan, what’s wrong?” A sly look flashed in Declan’s eyes, “Cora, won’t Jasper Grey argue with you for tricking him here? It’s my fault for upsetting him…” He inadvertently revealed the scars on his arm. Sure enough, Cora immediately grabbed his hand, asking anxiously, “What happened? You were fine before you went in!” Declan quickly pretended to be flustered, pulling back his arm and shaking his head with a bitter smile, “It’s nothing… You know he doesn’t like me, so when I was focused on the surgery, he found an opportunity to scratch me. But it’s okay now, you see.” Cora’s face darkened quickly. She gritted her teeth and said viciously, “He’s a mad dog! With so many bacteria in the lab, what if you get infected? He wants you dead! How can he be so vile!” “I knew he’d use such underhanded tactics. He even accused you of doing an illegitimate surgery, that liar!” As she spoke, her face turned red with anger. I stood aside, feeling colder with each word. In my previous life, everyone saw how I treated Cora. Even if I wasn’t romantic, my character was well-known. Besides, Cora should think about it, how could I, in a sedated state, possibly scratch Declan? It was clearly Declan who scratched himself before leaving the lab. Yet Cora bought it, cursing me all the way, her words more hurtful with each step. Declan enjoyed it, grinning several times. His smug face made me want to tear him apart. As they reached the car, a tall figure suddenly charged out, punching Declan and knocking him to the ground. Cora glared angrily at the man before her, “Finn! What’s wrong with you?” Finn was my junior at work, someone who learned the ropes from me and was a good friend in life. At that moment, his eyes were red with rage as he stared at Cora, “Cora, you beast! You brought Jasper here! Don’t you know how much Declan hates him? You’re heartless! Do you want him dead? Where is he?” Cora helped Declan up from the ground, retorting defiantly, “Are you crazy? Declan is a future genius scientific researcher! Jasper is lucky to contribute! Besides, it’s just a research project. How can it be fatal?” “You’re just like him, full of nonsense and violence! You two are the real beasts!”

Finn laughed at her words, pulling out his phone and pointing at Declan, “Bullshit! The lab called me to save Jasper, where’s my brother?” Declan, on the ground, spoke up, clutching his swollen cheek with a pitiful voice, “I know you don’t like me, but you can’t slander my innocence. This experiment’s drug will only make Jasper healthier, not harm him…” “He’s Cora’s husband. How could I harm him?” At that moment, I truly admired Declan’s acting skills. It’s a shame he didn’t pursue an acting career. After Finn’s words, Cora’s face showed disdain, “I see, you said all this to get me to see Jasper, didn’t you? He put you up to this, didn’t he? Hah, you’ll say anything to get my attention.” She tossed her hair and said to Finn, “Tell him to give up! If he keeps causing trouble, I’ll divorce him! He better not push his luck!” Finn glared at them, rushing into the lab. They didn’t find me, and I held back from appearing. Now wasn’t the time. I stood in the shadows, watching the deceitful pair with a cold smile, thinking: “Cora! Remember what you said today, I won’t let you off!” With that, I left quickly. On the streets, my mind raced. In my past life, I loved Cora for years, always dedicated, yet ended up like this. Hatred filled my heart as I returned home, secretly installing surveillance. I knew that once I disappeared, with Cora’s nature, she’d become even more blatant, possibly bringing her Adeline home. I rented a room across the street and watched for three days. Sure enough, Cora eventually brought Declan home, into our home. Watching them holding hands in familiar surroundings on the monitor, hatred consumed me. I recalled how, after graduation, I worked tirelessly to ensure Cora wouldn’t suffer when she married me, working late nights. Sometimes until dawn, taking on side jobs secretly. Eventually, I bought this house in full, thinking it would bring a smile to Cora’s face. But she frequently stayed out all night, leaving only a cold emptiness when I returned home. As anticipated, Cora eventually brought Declan back to our home. Watching them through the surveillance camera, holding hands in the familiar setting, I was overwhelmed by a surge of resentment. I recalled my previous life, freshly graduated and working relentlessly to ensure Cora would have a comfortable life with me. I often burned the midnight oil, working late into the night. Sometimes, I’d work until dawn, picking up extra jobs in secret. I finally managed to buy this house outright, hoping to see a smile on Cora’s face once she moved in. Yet, she frequently stayed out all night, leaving me to return to a cold, empty house. On the surveillance camera, Declan entered without the slightest hesitation, heading straight for the sofa like he was familiar with the place. He even went directly to the fruit cabinet, taking out some fruit to eat. After entering, Cora smiled warmly at him on the sofa, saying, “I remembered you like these, so I bought them to suit your taste. This way, you won’t dislike the fruits here every time you visit.” Declan nodded and responded, “Cora, I always knew you were the best to me.” Then his eyes drifted to the floor, and he frowned, “Why is this vase still here? It’s such a nuisance!” I was taken aback. What did he mean? How did Declan know about the vase? Wasn’t this his first time here? Without any hesitation, Cora stepped forward, picked up the vase, and smashed it on the floor. The shards scattered everywhere, but Cora looked at them emotionlessly. Then she fetched cleaning tools and swept the pieces into the trash can, saying, “If you don’t like it, we won’t keep it. I think it’s disgusting too.” I stood there, staring at the shattered vase. The entire house was designed according to Cora’s preferences. All the furniture was bought under her guidance; the vase was the only item I managed to keep after much argument. Despite her many taunts, I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. I never imagined that just because of a single word from Declan, Cora would destroy my vase without a second thought. She clearly didn’t care if I would argue with her upon my return. After all, I loved her so much that I couldn’t even bring myself to say harsh words, let alone argue. It was my love that gave her such confidence. Looking at the broken pieces on the floor, Declan smiled smugly but pretended to be troubled and said, “Won’t Jasper be upset when he comes back? After all, he seemed to like that vase. What if he scolds me? I’m so scared…” After saying this, he snuggled into Cora’s arms, pretending to still be haunted by me. Cora merely scoffed, “How dare he? What right does he have to scold you? You’re too kind, letting him bully you like this!” As she spoke, her chest heaved violently as if just mentioning my name made her uncomfortable. Declan nodded, lowered his eyelashes, and said, “Thank you, Cora. You’re really good to me. Without your support, I wouldn’t have been able to establish this research institute…” Cora smiled, “What are you saying? My money is your money. Who else should I be good to if not you?” Hearing “her money,” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Since marrying me, Cora had stopped working and spent her days shopping and playing around. All the money was from me. Ever since Declan returned from abroad, her expenses skyrocketed. Maintaining it was already taxing for me. I was initially suspicious, but now I knew she used the money to support Declan! Declan held her hand tightly, “Cora, once I make more money, I’ll ensure you live a good life. You won’t need to stay with him for money. I’ll make you happy.” Cora was so moved she couldn’t say a word, nodding with tears in her eyes. Watching them, I couldn’t hold back my urge to curse, so I closed my eyes to avoid looking at them. Night fell, and I ordered some takeout while continuing to monitor my home. I saw Cora preparing a table full of dishes, inviting Declan to sit, and smiling as she said: “Declan, do you remember what day it is? It’s our sixth anniversary.” She placed a piece of pork rib in his bowl, watching him eat with satisfaction. She looked every bit the virtuous wife. I felt an indescribable sadness. After being together for so many years, she had never cooked for me. She hadn’t even stepped into the kitchen; I had handled all the household chores alone. I thought she couldn’t cook, but she just didn’t want to cook for me. Declan raised his wine glass, smiling as he said: “Of course, I remember, Cora. Thank you for entering my life. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on many times.” Seeing his tears about to fall, Cora held him tightly, comforting him: “Declan, I’ll never leave you.” Upon hearing this, Declan lifted his face to look at her and said: “Cora, I actually came today to discuss something with you.” At this moment, no matter the request, even if it was the moon in the sky, Cora would give it to him without hesitation if Declan asked. She cradled his face, constantly caressing it: “Declan, what are you saying? Your matters are my matters. What can’t you tell me?” Declan hesitated for a moment and then said: “Recently, my lab wants to start a new project. I’ve already discussed it with the folks abroad. We just need the funds to start. I wanted to borrow some money from you…” Sure enough, Cora agreed without hesitation: “That’s not a problem. If you need money, I’ll fully support you! After all, you’re doing something profitable, much better than Jasper being stuck as a junior employee forever!” I was left speechless. Cora seemed to forget that both she and Declan were supported by me, the “junior employee.” How could she look down on me now? Declan coughed and said: “This time, the amount is quite large. I’ve gathered a portion, but I’m still short a few hundred thousand. So, I thought…” Cora froze; it was indeed not a small amount. Declan noticed her unease and sighed: “Never mind, it really is too much. I’ll think of another way.” But Cora wouldn’t really abandon him. She grasped his hand and smiled: “No problem. Jasper recently bought a new car. I’ll have him mortgage it for you.” Declan said excitedly: “Really? Let’s hurry to the bank!” But Cora pulled out her phone, dialing as she said: “I need to ask Jasper where the car keys and stuff are. Let me call him and ask where he is.” My phone rang in my pocket. Cora gestured for Declan to sit down, smugly waiting for me to rush to answer her call, then dutifully hand over the car keys. Unfortunately, that was the past. “Hello.” I adjusted the voice changer to a sweet, sticky female voice, and spoke with it.

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Back when I first started my esports career, Mia Taylor told me to propose to her if I ever won the world championship. It sounded like a dream. But then, one day, I overheard her talking to her friend. “Propose? To him? Please. Do you really think I’d marry a guy like that? I’m just messing with him. Imagine how hilarious it’ll be when I shut him down in front of the entire gaming world.” Her friend tried to calm her down, but Mia just rolled her eyes. “Come on. A guy who spends all day playing video games? He’s not even in the same league as me. Like, get real. A loser like him trying to date me? What a joke.” She smirked and added, “He’s broke, too. Meanwhile, I’ve got Luke—my kind of guy.” Luke Mitchell. My backup player. And right in front of me, she sent him a voice message. “Hey, Luke, guess what? I just bought this super cute new lingerie. Wanna see?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out. Fast forward to the championship. The crowd was roaring, golden confetti was raining down, and I got down on one knee. But just as Mia reached out, ready to slap the ring out of my hand— I turned, smiled, and slid the ring onto the finger of the woman standing next to her.

My mind was spinning as I replayed the conversation I’d just overheard. My chest felt tight, my hands trembling. Before I could pull myself together, Mia walked up, her voice sharp and full of irritation. “God, why are you being so sensitive? Luke just broke your keyboard. Are you seriously mad about that?” That’s when I noticed Luke standing behind her, pale as a ghost. He was holding a red mechanical keyboard—the one with my gamer tag, Mitchell, engraved on it. His voice cracked as he stammered out an apology. “I… I’m sorry, Isaac. I accidentally dropped it earlier. If you want, I can buy you a new one…” But before he could finish, Mia cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Buy him a new one? For what? It’s just a keyboard. He doesn’t care.” Her tone was so dismissive, like I wasn’t even allowed to be upset about it. I stood there, staring at the two of them, forcing myself to swallow the disgust rising in my throat. “Do you guys even hear yourselves? You break someone’s stuff and act like it’s no big deal? Have some respect.” Luke turned to Mia, looking like a kicked puppy. “Mia…” That was all it took for her to snap. She spun around, glaring at me like I’d just insulted her entire existence. “What the hell is wrong with you? Luke said it was an accident! Why are you blowing this out of proportion?” “I know you’ve never liked Luke, but do you seriously have to act this petty about everything?” “And for the record, I stand for what’s right, not for you. Don’t think for a second I’ll take your side on this.” I let out a bitter laugh. For a pro gamer, your equipment isn’t just gear—it’s a part of you. It’s your rhythm, your muscle memory. Tomorrow was the last match of the group stage, and the world championship was just a week away. Luke breaking my keyboard wasn’t an accident—it was a calculated move. “‘Stand for what’s right’? What part of this is right?” I shot back. My voice was tight with anger. “And when have you ever stood by me?” My words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. For once, I let the anger show. And she hated it. “Oh, come on! It’s just a stupid keyboard! Why are you acting like it’s the end of the world?” Before I could react, she grabbed the keyboard out of Luke’s hands and slammed it onto the floor. The sound of plastic keys scattering across the floor echoed in the room. My gamer tag, “Mitchell,” was obliterated and reduced to shattered fragments.

For a moment, even Mia looked stunned as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. But then she scoffed, doubling down. “You know what? Serves you right. And while you’re at it, maybe don’t bother playing tomorrow.” With that, she grabbed Luke’s arm and walked off, leaving me alone with the broken pieces of my keyboard. That wasn’t just a keyboard. It was the last gift my mom had given me. I clenched my fists, forcing back the lump in my throat as I carried the pieces to the technician’s room. “It’s completely busted, Isaac,” the tech said after one look. “You’re gonna have to set up a new one.” I could feel the stares of my other teammates as I walked back into the training room. Their smirks and whispered comments followed me like shadows. “Guess his plan to suck up to Mia didn’t work out. Looks like Luke’s moving up the ladder.” “Serves him right, acting all high and mighty. ‘Isaac’? What a joke.” I ignored them, but their words stung more than I cared to admit. When I got back to the training room, I saw my desk had been moved to the far corner—the “standby” seat. Luke was already sitting in my spot, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Don’t worry, Isaac,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sympathy. “I’ll give it my all in tomorrow’s match.” I narrowed my eyes at him, noticing the faint smear of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he and Mia had been up to. “Face it, Isaac,” he added with a smirk. “You’re past your prime. It’s time to let the younger generation take over.” I stared at him, my expression cold enough to wipe the grin off his face. No one expected what happened next. They came back from the match with a humiliating 0-3 loss. Luke’s performance? A complete disaster. Mia, our team analyst, didn’t criticize him at all. Instead, she patted him on the back like a doting mom. “It’s okay, Luke. Wins and losses are part of the game,” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “And besides, we’ve already secured our spot in the finals. Just think of this match as practice.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore—I laughed out loud. “Practice? Are you calling it a qualifying match practice? Wow. That’s rich.” “What’s wrong, Luke?” I added, smirking. “Weren’t you just saying yesterday that I’m too old for this?” In esports, there’s one rule that never changes: bad gameplay is the ultimate sin. Luke’s face turned bright red, but before he could say anything, Mia turned her fury on me. “God, could you stop acting like you’re so much better than everyone else? I’m so sick of the way you treat rookies! Haven’t you ever lost a match before?” Her words took me back to when I first joined the team. I wasn’t consistent back then, and after one particularly bad match, Mia pulled me aside. “Every single point matters in competitive gaming,” she’d told me. I remembered the late nights, grinding ranked games with her by my side. She’d walk me through every champion, every strategy, until I got it right. I remembered the way she’d held my hand before a big match and promised, “As long as I’m here, I’ll make sure you become the best jungler in the world.” And I had. After winning the spring championship last year, I confessed to her. We got together, and it felt like everything had fallen into place. But now, here she was, telling me a qualifying match didn’t matter. In that moment, I realized something: She wasn’t the same person anymore. She’d already rotted from the inside out.

After losing the match, Luke was buried under a mountain of public backlash. Fans tore him to shreds online—insults flying at him from every corner. I thought he’d lay low, maybe try to redeem himself. But then Mia posted on Facebook. “Sure, Luke didn’t play his best. We get that. But someone smashed his keyboard yesterday, messing up his focus. I can’t stay silent anymore. I hope people can give the rookie some time and encouragement.” She even uploaded a video clip. The footage was edited to make me look like the villain, twisting our argument into something malicious. It showed me deliberately targeting Luke and, to top it off, smashing his keyboard. The camera zoomed in on the broken pieces of the keyboard. The engraving on the back—Mitchell—was clear as day. Fans immediately jumped on the hate train. “Isaac, you jealous loser! Going after a rookie? How low can you sink?” “I can’t believe I ever supported Isaac. What a pathetic excuse for a pro!” “And Mia? Absolute queen for exposing him. And wasn’t she dating Isaac once? Damn, the tea is hot.” I was so angry I nearly laughed—it felt like the only way to stop myself from exploding. Then, just as I was about to leave, Luke walked out of Mia’s office. He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at me like he was the king of the world. “See that?” he said, smirking. “She’ll always take my side. What do you have to fight me with?” “Even if I lose, the fans will forgive me. But you? You’re done.” He tilted his head, the gold chain around his neck catching the light. Hanging from it was a gold ring. My chest tightened. That ring… It was the one I bought last year after winning the championship. I’d spent weeks tracking it down—an exclusive, custom-made luxury piece from overseas. Mia had said it was too special to wear every day, that she wanted to save it for “the right moment.” Turns out, that “moment” was giving it to Luke. Luke had joined the team six months ago as a last-minute substitute. At first, no one took him seriously—not even Mia, who suggested cutting him after his first month. But I was the one who stood up for him, coaching him on every hero and helping him improve match after match. I still remember the day he lost a crucial game. I was furious, demanding he be sent to the second team for more training. That was the first time Mia sided with him over me. “Come on, Isaac,” she said. “Who hasn’t lost a match before? Why are you being so harsh?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Mia, this is the playoffs! We can’t afford to mess around!” But she just frowned, her tone full of disappointment. “I know you’re Isaac, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like they’re beneath you.” “Isaac… when did you become like this?” And just like that, she walked off with Luke, leaving me standing there speechless. Later that night, I felt guilty. Maybe I had been too harsh. So I went to find Luke, planning to apologize and clear the air. But when I opened the door, I froze. Mia was sitting next to him, carefully sewing a tear in his shirt. Luke caught her hand mid-stitch, his voice soft. “Aren’t you spending the night with Isaac?” he asked, a teasing smile on his face. Mia blushed—a sight I hadn’t seen in months. “I’m here, aren’t I? Where else would I go?” Luke reached up and cupped her face. “Thank you, Mia. It means so much to me that you’d stand up for me.” I stumbled away from the door, heart pounding, terrified of what I might see if I stayed any longer. When Mia came out later, her flushed cheeks said more than words ever could. 4 I stared at Luke now, standing in front of me, smug as ever. Aside from being younger, what did he even have going for him? “If I’m the one who’s washed up,” I said coldly, “then you should just quit altogether.” “If you put half the effort into actually playing that you put into acting like a victim, you’d be at the top of the rankings by now.” “Or maybe,” I added with a smirk, “you just really enjoy being the guy who hides behind Mia every time something goes wrong. Cry a little, let her fight your battles for you. That’s your whole strategy, isn’t it?” My words hit him like a punch to the gut. His face twisted in anger. Then, out of nowhere, he dropped to the ground, clutching his hand and screaming like I’d just broken it in two. “Ahhh! My hand! Isaac, why did you step on my hand?!” His shrieking was so loud it immediately drew a crowd. Mia came running over, her face full of panic. She shoved me hard, her voice shaking with rage. “Isaac! Are you insane?!” “Do you even understand how important a player’s hands are?!” She knelt down beside Luke, cradling his hand like it was made of glass. “Are you okay, Luke? Does it hurt? Let me see.” Luke whimpered, glancing at me with fake fear in his eyes. “It’s my fault,” he said, voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have tried to take Isaac’s spot. I’m sorry, Isaac! Please don’t hurt me anymore.” “My hands… they’re everything to me. How am I supposed to compete now?” He reached out, tugging weakly at my sleeve like a helpless child. I couldn’t take it anymore. I actually laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. “If you’re going to frame me, at least put some effort into it,” I said, kicking him to the ground. “You’re pathetic.” Mia screamed, trying to pull me back as I grabbed his collar. My grip tightened with every second, and her voice rose in panic. “Isaac, stop! Have you lost your mind?!” “You can’t hurt him! What’s wrong with you?!” Finally, she slapped me hard enough to sting. “You’re a monster!” she spat, tears brimming in her eyes. Then, before I could react, she stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers with all her weight. “You’ll pay for this,” she hissed. “I’ll make sure of it.” Pain shot through my hand as I shoved her off me, my fingers swollen and bleeding. My hands—my lifeline—were more important than anything. Clutching my injured hand, I stumbled out and made my way to the ER, barely able to stay on my feet. 5. “Doctor, I have a championship match coming up. Can my hand recover in a week?” I gripped the doctor’s sleeve tightly, my voice trembling with desperation. “Take it easy,” he said, gently prying my hand off. “The good news is there’s no bone fracture. But the soft tissue damage? A week might be pushing it.” My stomach sank. “Then do something—give me a shot, painkillers, whatever it takes!” I couldn’t afford to give up. Not now. “I’ll do my best,” he said, his tone calm but serious. Later that night, I sat alone in the ER, hooked up to an IV. The sound of the saline drip hitting the tube echoed in the silence, each drop louder than the last. In the stillness of the hospital, it felt oppressive, almost suffocating. That slap and that stomp—Mia’s betrayal—did more than just injure my hand. It broke something deeper. It severed the last threads of the bond we’d shared over the past two years. I clenched my injured hand into a fist, and then released it, testing the strength in my muscles. “You know that’s only going to make it worse, right?” A familiar voice broke my trance. I looked up, startled, to see Evelyn standing there in a white coat, her arms crossed, a mix of concern and amusement in her expression. “It’s been a while,” she said with a small smile. “I saw your name on the chart and thought, ‘No way, it can’t be him.’ But here you are.” Evelyn and I had grown up together. She was the closest thing I had to a childhood friend. Back in middle school, when I decided to try my hand at professional gaming, she’d promised to stand by me no matter what. But after I joined the club, she disappeared. She stopped answering my calls and my messages. For a while, I thought she’d forgotten about me. Only later did I learn her parents had sent her overseas. Now, here she was, back in the city, interning at the hospital. Her eyes dropped to my bandaged hand. “Aren’t you a pro gamer? What happened to your hand?” I hesitated, and then gave her the short version of the story. Luke, Mia, the injury—everything. When I finished, she stared at me for a long moment before shaking her head. “Isaac Mitchell, since when did you become so stupid?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe this is what happens when you’re too nice to people?” She snorted. “Nice? You? Did you hit your head, too? Or has gaming scrambled your brain? Don’t act like I don’t know you.” She smirked. “You used to be the most vengeful person I knew.” That hit a nerve. She wasn’t wrong. Back then, no one dared mess with me. Everyone called me the “crazy Mitchell kid.” I laughed, this time for real, and Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Evelyn,” I said, still grinning, “do you want to come watch the World Championship?” Does Mia want to play games? Fine. Let’s see who’s still standing in the end.

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Riding my rusty little food cart, loaded with steaming braised pork trotters, I suddenly realized the brakes had gone out. Before I could react, the cart careened straight into a gleaming Rolls-Royce parked by the curb. I sighed, already bracing for the fallout. Reaching into my pocket for my bank card, I figured I’d just throw some money at the problem and hope for the best. But then the car door swung open, and out stepped someone I hadn’t expected to see in a million years—my ex-fiancée. Her expression was a wild rollercoaster of emotions: shock, disbelief, and finally, a smirk of pure satisfaction. Before I could even think about hopping back on the cart and making a getaway, she moved faster than I thought humanly possible. In the blink of an eye, she was in front of me, aiming a sharp kick straight at my stomach. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The guy who ghosted me right before our wedding. You just had to chase your dreams and disappear to God knows where. What happened? Did your big plans crash and burn? Now you’re back selling pork trotters, huh?” …

Emma’s kick was no joke—it was like getting hit by a freight train. I landed flat on my back, the impact rattling the food cart behind me, sending the insulated container of steaming pork trotters wobbling precariously. Groaning, I clutched my stomach, trying to rub away the pain. Cold sweat trickled down my back as I lay there, too dazed to even glance in her direction. But Emma wasn’t done. Arms crossed, she strode toward me in her high heels, each step deliberate and menacing. She stopped just inches from me, her silhouette towering over my crumpled form. With an air of unsettling calm, she reached down, her icy fingers gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at her. “Liam,” she said, dragging my name out like a taunt, her voice sweet but laced with venom. “Seven years… and here you are again, right back in my hands. So tell me, you hit my Rolls-Royce—how exactly are you planning to pay for it?” Her palm came down in slow, deliberate pats against my cheek, mockingly gentle. I stayed on the ground, staring up at her. My eyes involuntarily traced the way her hair fell over her shoulder, catching the light. She was still as beautiful as ever, though thinner now—like she hadn’t been eating properly. Her voice had a slight rasp, her nose and cheeks tinged red from the cold. And in this freezing weather, she was only wearing a coat, nothing warm underneath. The sight of her made something twist painfully in my chest. Even as she slapped my cheek with that look of pure hate, I couldn’t help but feel like I was dreaming. That is, until she delivered another sharp smack to the back of my head, snapping me out of my daze. “Don’t you dare look at me with that fake, lovesick expression!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Seven years ago, you vanished like a coward before our wedding. And now, you’re a broke loser crashing into my car. What? You think you can weasel your way out of this by playing the ‘long-lost lover’ card?” Her words hit harder than the kick. I scrambled to pull out my bank card, fumbling with my pocket as a sharp ache spread through my chest. It wasn’t just the guilt—it was the bitterness of seeing how much she despised me now. Seven years ago, she’d cry if I so much as nicked my finger. Now, she didn’t hesitate to slap me like I was nothing. But as I clutched the card, my mind wandered back to the moment that had changed everything. Seven years ago, I disappeared three days before our wedding—not because I wanted to leave her, but because I had no choice. I was working undercover, trying to save my team leader in a high-stakes drug bust. The operation went sideways, and we were caught in an explosion. I woke up three months later in a hospital bed, my body scarred and my life in shambles. I had every intention of going back to Emma, to beg for her forgiveness and explain everything. But life had other plans. A diagnosis of terminal cancer landed in my lap like a cruel joke. I couldn’t drag Emma into the wreckage of my life—not when I had no future to offer her. So I let her go, thinking it was the right thing to do. And now, here I was. All I’d wanted was to spend my last days chasing a simple dream of becoming a chef, living a quiet life. Yet fate had thrown me back into her orbit in the most humiliating way possible. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to stay composed. My fingers tightened around the card as I tried to hand it to her, choking back the tears threatening to spill. “It’s not like that,” I blurted, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I couldn’t say. “I can pay for the car, I swear. Just let me—” Before I could even get the words out, Emma smirked, already one step ahead of me. With a dramatic toss of her long hair, she reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a neatly folded stack of papers. A contract. She waved it in front of me with a triumphant grin. “Ha! Forget the money. Just sign this!”

Before I could even recover from my shock or process what was happening, Emma crouched down, grabbed my hand, and sank her teeth into it—hard. The sharp pain shot through me as blood trickled from the bite. Emma, unfazed, pressed my bleeding hand onto the contract, smearing the paper with red. “Ha! I knew you couldn’t afford to pay for my car! So, here’s the deal—you’ve signed your life away. This is a servitude contract, Liam, and I now have the right to do whatever I want with you!” I howled in pain, springing to my feet like a startled cat, shaking my injured hand to stop the bleeding. “Emma, what the hell is wrong with you—” Before I could finish, her hand came flying at me again, slapping me clean across the face. “Shut up!” she barked, her eyes blazing with fury. “Look at you—broke, pathetic, and still trying to act like some tough guy. You can’t pay for the car, so don’t even think about strutting around like you’re someone important!” Her voice dripped with scorn as she jabbed a finger into my chest. “Here are your options, Liam. Either you go to jail for wrecking my car, or you stay here and suffer through every punishment I see fit. And trust me, I’m going to make you regret every single decision you’ve ever made—especially the one where you left me standing at the altar!” She leaned closer, her voice colder than ice. “Seven years ago, I must’ve been blind to even consider marrying a loser like you. But starting today, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” Her finger jabbed me so hard that I nearly stumbled backward. I stood there, stunned, staring at the fiery, vengeful woman in front of me. My hand, still clutching the bank card in my pocket, suddenly froze. Why bother pulling it out? What was the point? I only had a month left to live anyway. The cancer was eating me alive, and I knew my time was running out. If I spent these last few weeks being dragged around by her, at least I’d get to see her every day. Maybe, selfishly, I could allow myself that small comfort before the end. Emma didn’t even glance back as she turned on her heel and walked away, her voice sharp as she barked another order. “Hurry up, Liam! Quit standing there like an idiot and move!” I hesitated, glancing back at my food cart. The pork trotters inside had taken me hours to perfect. The glossy, caramelized skin, the tender meat, the fragrant sauce—I’d been so proud of them. But all I could do now was sigh and abandon the cart as I jogged after her. Emma led me to her mansion—a sprawling, 5,000-square-foot luxury home. She assigned me to a tiny, 100-square-foot room, barely bigger than a closet. It was clear she wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Her hatred for me was written in every detail of my new “job.” The house was spotless, and she had a full-time cleaning service on staff, but that didn’t stop her from making me scrub every tile on my hands and knees until it gleamed. She had a fleet of luxury cars at her disposal, but instead of using them, she made me pedal her $3,800 designer bicycle, carting her around for miles like a human chauffeur. It felt like she was actively trying to kill me. By the time I collapsed in the corner of the kitchen after another grueling day of chores, my hands were raw, covered in blisters and cuts. I stared at my trembling fingers, unable to hold back the wave of exhaustion and despair creeping over me. “Liam!” One of her assistants barked as they burst into the room. “Miss Emma wants coffee. And not just any coffee—she wants Louis XVI coffee at exactly 46 degrees. Got it? Not 45, not 47. If you screw this up, you’ll be in for it!” I groaned, dragging myself off the floor. “Got it,” I muttered under my breath, shuffling toward the door like a zombie. As I stumbled around the corner, I didn’t realize Emma was walking straight toward me. Before I could stop myself, I bumped into her. Her body was soft and warm as she fell lightly against my chest. Her scent—faintly floral, clean, and familiar—flooded my senses, and for a moment, my heart felt like it was about to explode. I panicked, afraid she’d push me away in disgust. My hands instinctively moved to steady her before I quickly backed off, trying to be respectful. “Emma, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” I stammered, stepping back. But then she turned around, surprising me. Her small fists pressed against my chest as she looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Liam…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, stripped of all the anger and venom I’d grown used to over the past few days. It reminded me of the Emma I used to know, the one who would laugh and blush whenever I looked at her. My chest tightened, my nose stinging as if I was on the verge of tears. I gazed at her, my voice equally gentle as I asked, “What’s wrong?” Emma tilted her head slightly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something—but no words came out. Then, without warning, her hands started moving. She tugged at my shirt, her soft fingers brushing against my skin, wandering across my chest with no regard for personal boundaries. Her face rested delicately against my chest, as if she belonged there. I froze, my body heating up like a furnace. Every instinct screamed that this wasn’t right, that something was off, but I couldn’t bring myself to push her away. Then I heard her murmur, her voice slurred and faint, “You jerk… leaving me like that… If I tie you to my side, will you finally see how much I care? Will you regret abandoning me…?” Her words trailed off as her body suddenly went limp. She collapsed completely into my arms. Panic gripped me as I caught her, my heart pounding. I touched her forehead, only to realize it was burning up—she was running a dangerously high fever. “Damn it, Emma,” I muttered under my breath, my throat tightening as I fought back tears. She must’ve been delirious, and that’s why she’d let slip everything she was feeling. Without wasting another second, I scooped her up in my arms and ran like my life depended on it, faster than any car on the road. I carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, called a doctor, and stayed by her side as they gave her fluids and medication. For three days and nights, I didn’t leave her bedside. I didn’t sleep, barely ate, and spent every second tending to her—wiping her sweat, adjusting her blanket, and making sure she was comfortable. By the third night, exhaustion got the better of me, and I nodded off for just a moment. I woke up to the faint sound of coughing. My eyes shot open, and I saw Emma stirring in bed, her body curling slightly as if she wanted to sit up. “I’ll get you some water!” I blurted out, scrambling to my feet. I didn’t notice her staring at me, her expression soft and filled with something I hadn’t seen before. When I turned back with the water, I met her gaze—those big, hopeful eyes brimming with an emotion that made my chest ache. “Liam,” she said softly, her voice still raspy. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? That’s why you stayed… you didn’t rest at all, did you?” She didn’t realize it, but her fingers were nervously fidgeting with the blanket, and she bit her lip as she waited for my answer. It was like she was afraid of what I might say, yet silently praying I’d confirm what she already suspected. The truth was on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her, Yes, Emma. I was worried sick about you. I couldn’t bear to leave your side. But then I remembered the words she’d mumbled before fainting, her vulnerability, and the cruel reality of my terminal cancer. How could I let her hope for a future with me when I didn’t even have one? So instead, I forced a laugh, plastering on a fake grin. “Worried about you? Don’t be ridiculous. If I cared, I wouldn’t have left you seven years ago, would I? I just didn’t want you dying and leaving no one to pay me back for all the trouble you’ve caused!” I laughed loudly, hoping it would mask the way my heart was breaking. Her expression fell instantly, her hopeful gaze turning into one of quiet disappointment. She lowered her eyes, her fingers stilling as the weight of my words sank in. She didn’t say anything, but the hurt was written all over her face. I could’ve stopped there, but I knew that wasn’t enough to push her away completely. I needed to make her hate me, to sever whatever lingering feelings she might have had. So I forced myself to say the one thing I knew would break her. “And you know why I left you back then? It wasn’t because of some noble reason. It was because…” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Because I’m into men.” Her head shot up, her eyes widening in shock. I forced another laugh, scratching the back of my neck like it was no big deal. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve always liked guys. Guess I was just too scared to admit it back then.” The room fell into a suffocating silence, the kind that made even the air feel heavy. Then came the slap. “SMACK!” Her hand struck my face with enough force to rattle the windows. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she glared at me with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She didn’t say another word. She simply tossed a bank card at me, pointed to the door, and spat out one final command. “Get out.” I clenched my fists, my head hanging low as I bit my lip to keep from crying. This was for the best, I told myself. This was how it had to be. Without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving her behind. Days passed, and I threw myself into my food cart business, selling pork trotters to anyone who’d buy them. It was the only thing keeping me sane. One afternoon, as I sat on the curb, lost in thought about Emma, someone called out to me. “Liam?” I turned to see Thomas, an old friend from my time in the police force. He grinned when he saw me, his eyes lighting up at the sight of my pork trotters. “Man, those smell amazing,” he said, but instead of digging in like he usually would, he hesitated, looking at me with a strange expression. “Thomas, what’s up?” I asked. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding my gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s about… your diagnosis.” I froze. “What about it?” He sighed. “Turns out the doctor messed up. The cancer diagnosis? It wasn’t yours. It belonged to some old guy who died 13 years ago. The idiot mixed up the records because you have the same name.” My mind went blank. “What… what did you say?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Thomas nodded quickly, trying to reassure me. “You’re fine, Liam. You’re not dying. The doctor’s been fired for screwing up so many cases, and—” I didn’t wait for him to finish. I was alive. I wasn’t going to die. And that meant… I could still be with Emma. Without thinking, I took off running, darting through the crowded streets like a man possessed. I had to tell her. I had to fix everything. I reached her house, breathless and trembling with anticipation. Knocking on the door, I called out, “Emma, I—” The door opened, and before I could say anything, she sprayed me in the face with a garden hose. Blinking through the water, I saw him. A tall, handsome man sat on her bed, casually eating an apple she’d peeled for him, his legs crossed like he owned the place.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295247”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance

The day after dividing our assets from the divorce, I got into a car accident and lost my memory. Later, Caleb found me and said if I didn’t go crazy every day, remarriage was possible. I froze with an ice cream spoon in my mouth, and after a long while, I finally spoke: “I’d rather not! I… I… I’d be fine with just taking the money.” This introductory paragraph effectively sets up the premise of the story, introducing the main conflict and the protagonist’s attitude, which should pique readers’ interest. I woke up to find my best friend Mia Quinn looking at me with a worried expression. She told me not to be sad anymore. She said that my body was my own, and even though I was divorced, I should still take good care of myself. She mentioned that the children were with Caleb and wouldn’t suffer, so there was no need for me to go to court again, especially since I wouldn’t win anyway. I was stunned for a moment before asking, “Who’s Caleb?” Mia froze, looking confused. After a while, she came to her senses and called for a doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia as a result of the car accident. Mia hurriedly asked me how old I thought I was. I thought for a moment and replied, “Eighteen, right? Didn’t I just take the SAT yesterday?” Mia burst into laughter, crouching on the floor and holding her stomach. She was laughing so hard she started pounding the bed with her fist. “Hazel, you’re amazing. Your amnesia is perfect. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Caleb, no kids… just the two of us…” I was even more confused.

Mia took me back to her place after confirming that it would be difficult for me to regain my memories. She then gave me a brief overview of my current situation. I, Hazel Winters, fell in love during my freshman year of college with a poor boy named Caleb Parker. Caleb and I were together for ten years, from when I was eighteen until I was twenty-eight. I supported him while he started his business, lived through tough times with him, gave birth to and raised his children, and took care of his parents. Then this year, he filed for divorce. “What? Huh?” I was shocked. This sounded like some tragic romance novel plot. After a while, I asked in a trembling voice, “So, you’re saying I was basically someone’s servant for ten years, and then at twenty-eight, I was thrown out?” Mia nodded, “Yes, and you have two children. Your son is six years old, and your daughter is four. But since you were a stay-at-home mom without earning power, both children chose to stay with their father, so custody was awarded to Caleb.” “…What? I lost both children that I worked so hard to raise…” Even though I couldn’t remember experiencing any of this, it sounded terrifying. I was almost in tears from fear. Then Mia laughed and patted my shoulder, “Don’t be too upset. At least you got money.” With tears welling up in my eyes, I cautiously asked, “How much?” Mia sat up straight, “Hazel, listen carefully. You got 20% of Caleb’s assets, 10% shares in three listed companies, and two traditional courtyard houses in Beijing. It’s worth about 1.9 billion dollars.” “…” Silence, contemplation, and then I tentatively asked, “Mia, you’re not lying to me, are you?” “I swear on my life, I’m not lying.” That day, I gazed out the window at the sky in a daze. I had forgotten ten years of memories. I wasn’t sure how I had spent those ten years. But Mia said I was very wealthy, and when I was eighteen, money was what I loved most. So I thought this wasn’t too bad after all.

Mia took time off work and spent the next few days helping me transfer various assets. I didn’t see Caleb, the man Mia had mentioned. He had delegated all divorce property divisions to his lawyer. After nearly a month of busy work, Mia helped me list all the properties under my name for rent. She calculated that the monthly rental income would be around 1.2 million dollars. That day, I looked at the endless zeros in my bank account, then raised my head to see my twenty-eight-year-old self, perfectly made up, in the mirror. I scratched my head, thinking it wasn’t too bad.

I had nothing to do at home, but Mia had to work. So I spent my days playing video games at Mia’s place. Mia would order takeout for me when she got her lunch. Mia came home very late, looking exhausted. She’d collapse on the sofa, completely drained. I’d put down my game controller and massage her shoulders. Apparently, I had muscle memory for this and was quite good at it. After Mia had rested enough, she started complaining, “That bastard Caleb. You worked for him for free right after graduation, and when his mom was sick, you’d massage her after work.” “…” As Mia continued talking, she grabbed my hand and flicked my forehead, “Hazel, you’re such a pushover. When I wasn’t around, you let them bully you. Those people, they took advantage of you being an orphan.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a bit wronged, “I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Mia stopped talking, then laughed, “That’s right! You don’t remember. It’s better that you don’t. Just remember me, I won’t bully you.” I believed Mia on this because we had grown up together. We both grew up in an orphanage. From a very young age, I followed Mia around. She would fight for snacks for me and help me with laundry. As we got older, Mia would help me with my studies. She was a year older than me. During my senior year of high school, when she was a college freshman, she’d call me every day to encourage me to study hard. Back then, she wanted me to go to the same university as her, but Mia was too smart. Even though I studied like crazy, I couldn’t get into Harvard in the end. The day the results came out, I hugged Mia and cried. Mia gave me a light tap on the head, “Why are you crying? Your scores are amazing, what’s there to cry about?” She patted my head, “You’ve done really well.” Later, I went to Yale, crying all the way.

Mia regretted letting me go, saying, “If you hadn’t gone to Yale, you wouldn’t have met Caleb. If you hadn’t met Caleb…” I jumped in to finish her sentence, “Then I wouldn’t have these 1.9 billion dollars.” Mia put her hands on her hips, “Is money more important or those ten years of your life?” I tried to guess the correct answer, “Money is more important?” Mia looked exasperated, “You are important. If you’re not happy, no amount of money matters. It’s a good thing you lost your memory. Otherwise, if you had done something stupid, what use would all that money be?” “Um… to buy me a nice grave plot…” Mia couldn’t help but laugh, “Get out of here!” “…” Mia has always been impressive, and she still is. She’s the general manager of a multinational company, with a monthly salary of around $400,000. But she’s very busy and sometimes has to go on business trips. She didn’t want to leave me alone, so she’d take me along. After a while, she figured that since she was going to bring me everywhere anyway, why spend her own money? So she hired me as her assistant at her company. I was familiar with this! I had read over a dozen novels about bosses falling in love with their assistants in the past few months. On my first day, I confidently went to work wearing a form-fitting professional outfit. I made her coffee, organized her documents, and ran around doing various tasks. I looked very hardworking, but later she found it amusing and told me to stop running around. She gave me a form Thank you for the feedback. I’ll continue with the full translation using these new names. Full translation Title: Divorced and Amnesiac: My Unexpected Second Chance Chapter 1 I woke up to find my best friend Mia Quinn looking at me with a worried expression. She told me not to be sad anymore. She said that my body was my own, and even though I was divorced, I should still take good care of myself. She mentioned that the children were with Caleb and wouldn’t suffer, so there was no need for me to go to court again, especially since I wouldn’t win anyway. I was stunned for a moment before asking, “Who’s Caleb?” Mia froze, looking confused. After a while, she came to her senses and called for a doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia due to the car accident. Mia quickly asked me how old I was. I thought for a moment and replied, “Eighteen, right? Didn’t I just take the SAT yesterday?” Mia burst into laughter, crouching on the floor and holding her stomach. She was laughing so hard she was pounding the bed with her fist. “Hazel, you’re amazing. Your amnesia is perfect. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Caleb, no kids… just the two of us…” I was even more confused. Chapter 2 Mia took me home after confirming that it would be difficult for me to regain my memories. She then gave me a brief introduction to my current situation. I, Hazel Winters, fell in love during my freshman year of college with a poor boy named Caleb Parker. Caleb and I dated for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I supported him in his business ventures, shared in his hardships, gave birth to his children, and took care of his parents. Then this year, he filed for divorce. “What? Huh?” I was shocked. This sounded like some tragic romance novel. After a while, I asked with a trembling voice, “So, you’re saying I was someone’s servant for ten years, and at twenty-eight, I was thrown out?” Mia nodded, “Yes, and you have two children. Your son is six years old, and your daughter is four. But because you were a housewife without your own income, both children chose to stay with their father, so the court awarded custody to Caleb.” “…Ah? The two children I raised are gone…” Even though I couldn’t remember experiencing any of this, it sounded terrifying. I was almost in tears from fear. Then Mia laughed and patted my shoulder, “Don’t be too upset. At least you got money.” With tears welling up in my eyes, I cautiously asked, “How much?” Mia sat up straight, “Hazel, listen carefully. You got 20% of Caleb’s assets, 10% shares in three listed companies, and two courtyard houses in Boston. It’s worth about $1.9 billion in total.” “…” Silence, contemplation, and then I tentatively asked, “Mia, you’re not lying to me, are you?” “I swear on my life, I’m not lying.” That day, I stared out the window at the sky in a daze. I had forgotten ten years of memories. I wasn’t sure how I had spent those ten years. But Mia said I was very rich, and when I was eighteen, money was what I loved most. So I thought this wasn’t too bad after all. Chapter 3 Mia took time off work and spent the next few days helping me transfer various assets. I didn’t meet the Caleb that Mia mentioned. For all the divorce property divisions, he had appointed a lawyer. After about a month of busy work, Mia helped me list all the houses under my name for rent. She calculated that the monthly rent would be about $1.2 million. That day, I looked at the countless zeros in my bank account, then raised my head to see my twenty-eight-year-old self in the mirror, with perfect makeup and hair. I scratched my head, thinking it wasn’t too bad. Chapter 4 I had nothing to do at home, but Mia had to work. So I stayed at Mia’s place playing video games every day. Mia would order takeout for me when she ordered her lunch. Mia came home very late, looking exhausted. She collapsed on the sofa, lifeless. I put down my game controller and started massaging her shoulders. It seemed I had muscle memory for this, as I was very good at it. After Mia had rested enough, she started complaining, “That bastard Caleb. You worked for him for free right after graduation. When his mother was ill, you had to massage and take care of her after work.” “…” As Mia continued talking, she grabbed my head and flicked my forehead, “Hazel, you’re such a pushover. When I wasn’t around, you let them bully you. Those people, they took advantage of you being an orphan.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a bit wronged, “I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Mia stopped talking and then laughed, “That’s right! You don’t remember. It’s better that you don’t remember. Just remember me, I won’t bully you.” I believed Mia’s words because we grew up together. We both grew up in an orphanage. From a very young age, I followed Mia around. She would fight for snacks for me and help me wash my clothes. When we got older, Mia would help me with my studies. She was a year older than me. In my senior year of high school, when she was a freshman in college, she would call me every day to encourage me to study hard. Back then, she wanted me to go to the same university as her. But Mia was too smart. Even though I studied like crazy, I still couldn’t get into Harvard. The day the results came out, I hugged Mia and cried. Mia gave me a light knock on the head, “Why are you crying? Your scores are amazing. What’s there to cry about?” She patted my head, “You’ve done really well.” Later, I went to Yale, crying all the way. Chapter 5 Mia regretted letting me go, saying, “If you hadn’t gone to Yale, you wouldn’t have met Caleb. If you hadn’t met Caleb…” I quickly answered, “Then I wouldn’t have this $1.9 billion.” Mia put her hands on her hips, “Is money more important or those ten years more important?” I tried to guess the correct answer, “Money is important?” Mia looked at me with exasperation, “You are important. If you’re not happy, no amount of money matters. It’s good that you lost your memory. Otherwise, if you did something stupid, what use would that money be?” “Um… to buy me a nice grave plot…” Mia laughed despite her frustration, “Get out of here!” “…” Mia has always been impressive, and she still is. She’s now the general manager of a multinational company, with a monthly salary of around $400,000. But she’s very busy and sometimes has to go on business trips. She worries about leaving me alone. So she takes me with her. Later, she figured that since she had to take me everywhere anyway, why spend her own money? She hired me as her assistant at her company. I was familiar with this! I had read more than a dozen books about overbearing CEOs falling in love with their little assistants in the past few months. On the first day, I went to work confidently wearing a form-fitting professional outfit. I made her coffee, organized her documents, and ran around busily. I looked very hardworking, but later she found it amusing and told me to stop running around. She gave me a form, “Let Anna guide you. Fill this out, take your time learning, no rush.” “Alright, alright.” And that’s how I officially started working.

Every day, I went to work and came home with Mia. I didn’t have much work to do, so I got off earlier. Mia couldn’t do that; she had a lot of work. I always waited for her in the break room. Later, when Mia saw me watching online courses on my phone, she suddenly remembered and seriously asked me, “Hazel, do you want to study?” “…I do.” I had lost my memory, so there was a lot I didn’t know at work. I was practically starting from scratch, and I felt quite discouraged every time I couldn’t do something well. Since I was young, Mia had always been my goal, and she still is now. I also wanted to be as capable as Mia, handling everything with ease. It was so cool. Later, Mia enrolled me in a class. After work, I would drive to attend classes. It was a systematic project management course, interspersed with various office software applications. I filled two notebooks with notes before I started to understand. So that’s how it works. After finishing that course, Mia sent me to learn financial accounting. I studied for a year and had a major revelation. So that’s how it all works. I started to get the hang of my job.

After I had been working for a year, Mia started letting me join Anna in project negotiations. Anna was three years younger than me and was a project manager with a very good personality. She spoke gently and took good care of me. One time, after discussing work, she went downstairs to buy herself a coffee and bought me an ice cream. I was happily eating my ice cream when Anna laughed, “Mia says you’re 29, but I never believe it. Hazel, you’re just like a kid! A hardworking and obedient child.” I thought for a moment and solemnly told her, “Actually, I already have two children.” “Stop kidding me. We’ve been working together for over a year, and I’ve never seen your husband.” “We’re divorced.” “Sister, you look like a young girl.” “Well… actually, I’m a young divorcee.” Anna was stunned. She didn’t believe me, and I laughed. Actually, I didn’t believe it either. I had just finished my college entrance exam, how could I be twenty-nine already? But I’ve been taking good care of myself these two years, so I do look younger now. Actually, right after the divorce, I wasn’t in good shape. I was quite haggard. But I guess money does nourish people. After I was discharged from the hospital, Mia took me for various skincare treatments for a while. She also said I was too weak and signed me up for a martial arts class. The eighteen-year-old me always followed Mia’s lead. If she said east, I would never go west. If she said martial arts, I would never sign up for taekwondo. We hired a housekeeper to prepare nutritious meals, and as time went by, I got better and better. Because I had lost my memory, I had no worries at all. I had money and didn’t need to work, could eat and sleep well. In those few months, even my hair became thicker. Actually, I’ve been quite happy for the past year or so, having forgotten the messy memories of the past ten years. With an eighteen-year-old’s clean slate of a mind, I’ve been learning various things without any pressure, and Mia has always been supporting and guiding me from behind. But I guess even heaven couldn’t bear to see me so comfortable. One day, I met a man at the place where Anna took me to negotiate a cooperation.

Anna’s meeting that day was quite confidential, so I couldn’t attend. She left me at the coffee shop downstairs, eating ice cream and reading a book. Halfway through my reading, I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw a man in a suit, his brows furrowed. He was just looking at me. I was stunned, feeling that he looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t remember who he was. Later, when Anna finished her meeting and came down, I picked up the coffee I had bought in advance and went to find her. As I passed by that man, I heard him say, “Pretending not to know me?” This sentence came out of nowhere. I glanced at him but didn’t pay much attention, carrying the coffee out the door. But that man followed me out, “Hazel Winters, you don’t even say hello when we meet?” I turned around, and Anna turned with me. Anna saw the man and smiled, “Mr. Parker! Long time no see.” Caleb didn’t acknowledge Anna, just staring at me. I looked at the man and quietly asked Anna, “Is he Caleb?” “Yes, the CEO of Parker Group. Do you know him?” “…Um, I think he’s my… ex-husband…” Anna was stunned. She looked at me, then at Caleb, then back at me. Caleb stared at me. I thought for a moment and extended my hand, “Hello.” Caleb didn’t shake my hand. He looked at me, his eyes contemptuous and mocking, “Hazel Winters, I underestimated you. I thought you were really a good mother! In court, you fought so hard for Zack and Ava, but after getting the money, you haven’t even come to see them once… It’s a good thing I didn’t give the children to you. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” A wave of inexplicable sadness welled up in my heart, but as the sadness dissipated, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what Zack and Ava looked like. “Hazel Winters, you’d better come back this weekend. Otherwise, you’ll never see Zack and Ava again in this lifetime.” Caleb left, leaving behind a confused Anna and a pensive me.

That day when I got home, for the first time, I heard about my two children from Mia’s mouth. “Those two? They’re both quite smart, but at that time, Caleb was starting his business, and you were busy too. You went back to work right after giving birth. Both children were raised by their grandparents, so they’re not very close to you. Hazel, during the divorce, you could have gotten 50% of the marital assets, but you signed an agreement with Caleb. You only took 20% of the assets, but Caleb had to sign a document promising not to remarry and to ensure all assets would go to the two children.” She paused for a moment and then continued, “You carried both children for ten months before giving birth. You loved them to no end, but it was useless. Both children don’t like you. That day when I went to pick you up, I saw them cursing at you, saying you did nothing but took 20% of Caleb’s assets, telling you to give it back. You stood there silently, and when they got angry, they threw glass cups at you…” Mia didn’t finish. She sighed and hugged me, “Hazel, can you not remember, please? We’re so happy like this, isn’t that good?” I nodded seriously, “Okay, I don’t want to remember either.” “But if you want to see them this weekend, you can go. You can’t avoid them forever. I’ll go with you then. No one will bully you.” I looked up at Mia and nodded. Actually, it doesn’t matter if I don’t see them. I’ve really forgotten. I just felt a bit sad when they were first mentioned, but now I don’t feel much anymore. I’m just a bit curious about what they look like.

That day, Mia accompanied me. When Caleb opened the door and saw Mia, he frowned. He probably didn’t like Mia, and of course, Mia disliked him even more. Caleb let me in but tried to block Mia outside. I was startled and immediately ran out, hiding behind Mia. I was actually a bit afraid of Caleb. Caleb was too tall, and his presence was too intimidating. The key thing was, I didn’t remember him. I held onto Mia. If Mia didn’t go in, I wouldn’t go in either. Caleb’s face darkened in an instant. “Hazel Winters, if you want to see the children today, you can only come in alone.” “Then forget it, I don’t want to see them.” I shook my head vigorously, scared to death. What kind of person was this? I pulled Mia, wanting to leave. Caleb laughed angrily. “Hazel Winters, what do you mean? Am I that scary?” Of course, he was scary. He was nearly six feet tall, big and strong. If he punched me into the wall, I wouldn’t be able to peel myself off. I was very firm, “…I’ll only go with Mia.” Caleb had a gloomy face, while Mia stared back expressionlessly. In the end, Caleb stepped aside. “Come in!” The living room of the small villa was very large. In the center sat a boy about seven or eight years old. The boy looked very much like his father, and his expression wasn’t very pleasant when he met my gaze. This must be Zack. Next to him sat a little girl, who must be Ava. The little girl followed her brother’s lead, looking at me with some curiosity. “Are you Mom?” I nodded. Ava tugged at her brother’s sleeve, “Brother, Mom is… so beautiful now!” The little boy suddenly shouted, “Shut up! Don’t call her Mom. She’s not Mom anymore. She doesn’t care about you or me. What kind of mom is that? She won’t even let Dad remarry or let us have a new mom. She’s a bad person, she’s crazy.” “…” My initial expectation dissipated in an instant. I didn’t feel as sad as I had imagined. I still couldn’t remember them. They looked familiar, but in reality, I had forgotten them completely. It felt like two somewhat familiar children were cursing at me. I wasn’t angry, just felt bored.

That day, I stayed at Caleb’s house for half a day. Zack ignored me, and Ava didn’t dare to talk to me. The most impressive thing about that day was actually how delicious the dinner at Caleb’s house was. The housekeeper at Caleb’s was also quite young. She was a girl in her twenties, very pretty, efficient, pleasing to the eye, and an excellent cook. I was thinking that this housekeeper was really good, wondering if I could poach her. Until the little housekeeper swayed her hips and insisted on feeding Caleb strawberries. Mia lowered her head and whispered to me angrily, “What a show-off! She’s the third party between you and Caleb, named Iris. She was your junior in college. With such a good education, instead of working hard to improve herself, she became his mistress. Crazy.” Mia’s words were harsh. I rubbed my nose, feeling a bit guilty. Actually, I wasn’t very ambitious either back then, and was quite lovesick too. But thinking that I couldn’t poach the housekeeper anymore, I was heartbroken. Then I promptly ladled myself another bowl of soup. Halfway through dinner, Mia suddenly received a work call. She glanced at me. The call seemed urgent, and I guessed it was probably something important. I immediately reassured her, “I’m fine. I’ll go back by myself later. You go ahead!” “Hazel, it’ll just be forty minutes. I’ll be back to pick you up in forty minutes.” Mia left in a hurry. After dinner that day, Caleb looked at Iris, and Iris tactfully took the children upstairs. Only Caleb and I were left in the living room. I looked at my watch; Mia would probably be back in about ten minutes. I was thinking, if Caleb hit me, how could I escape out the door as quickly as possible? Would my martial arts classes be useful? Probably not, considering I was only 5’7″ and quite thin. Too weak. Caleb reached out his hand, and in an instant, I ran as fast as I could. Unable to run out the door, I ran to the nearest room and locked it. I hid in the room and heard Caleb getting the keys. I was even more scared, “Don’t come in! If you come in, I’ll call the police!” Through the door, I heard Caleb’s angry voice, “Hazel Winters, what are you so afraid of? We dated for ten years and were married for seven years. Are you still afraid I’ll hit you?”

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