Category: English

At my company’s annual party, I was lucky enough to win an iPad. Overjoyed, I rushed home to tell my mom. The next morning, my sister-in-law, Dora, knocked on my door. “Hey, could you give that iPad to your nephew, Mark? He’s been needing one for his studies, online classes, and assignments. You know how it is. You don’t have kids, anyway, so it’s not like you’ll need it. Just hand it over, okay?” I refused. What I didn’t expect was the entire family turning against me over a single iPad. “You’re living off this family after your divorce, and you can’t even spare a free iPad for your nephew?” “Ungrateful brat! Good-for-nothing freeloader!” “I’m not your brother anymore. Get out of this house!” Later, I did move out, but they begged me pitifully, asking me to come back. “Emily, you know how hard your brother works. Mark just started high school this year, and the academic pressure is immense. We don’t have extra money for tutoring classes. That iPad would be perfect for him; it’s great for online courses and practice exercises,” Dora said, gripping my hand with a face full of earnestness. I hesitated. “But I need it, too…” “What could you possibly need it for?” she interrupted, patting the back of my hand dismissively. “Watching videos? Scrolling through apps? You can do all that on your phone, can’t you? Mark is at a critical stage in his education. Shouldn’t his aunt give him a little support?” The iPad I won at the company’s annual party was the latest model, one I’d been wanting for a long time but couldn’t afford. I wasn’t about to hand it over without good reason. “Dora, why don’t you check second-hand platforms? You can find good tablets for a fraction of the price,” I suggested. “What?” Her eyes widened, appalled. “His classmates all have the newest models. How do you expect him to hold his head high with some second-hand junk? He’s a boy; his pride would be crushed!” She shot me a withering glare. “Are you trying to embarrass your nephew on purpose?” Dora felt distressed that my brother worked too hard, yet when I recommended a cheaper one, she doubted my intentions. My patience snapped. “Then, buy him a new one yourself!” Her tone changed immediately. “Why should we spend money when there’s a perfectly good one sitting right here? It’d be such a waste! And anyway, you got it for free. Giving it to Mark wouldn’t cost you a dime. Don’t be so stingy. We’re family! “And look at you now—divorced, no husband, no kids. When you’re old, you’ll have to rely on Mark, anyway!” I laughed coldly, “I’ll pass.” Then, I slammed my bedroom door in her face and left for work.

After my divorce, I moved back to my parents’ house, thinking it would give me some support while juggling work and the legal battle. Dora, however, was less than thrilled. My old room had been turned into a storage space, and she was livid when I started clearing it out. “You don’t need all that space to sleep,” she snapped. “Why can’t the stuff stay where it is?” My room was the smallest in the house, and with all the clutter, there wasn’t even space to turn around. She was basically asking for trouble. But I had just moved back and didn’t want to argue, so I quietly cleaned up. Knowing my presence was an inconvenience, I offered to contribute some money every month as a sort of “board”. Dora feigned modesty. “Oh, don’t be silly, you’re family. What’s money between us?” When I insisted, her attitude flipped. “Well, if it puts your mind at ease, I’ll take it. You just focus on being happy here. I’ll make sure to cook all your favorite dishes!” Two months later, she was complaining at the dinner table about rising grocery prices and her chronic back pain from “doing everything in this house”. One night, while everyone else was watching TV in the living room, she decided to pick a fight. “Mark’s interest classes cost money, you know,” she grumbled. When my brother didn’t cough up the cash, she turned on him. “This house has so many mouths to feed, and you barely bring anything in! I can’t even buy myself a new dress! How did I end up marrying such a useless man? “You’re all nothing but parasites! I must’ve been cursed in my last life to be your servant!” Before she could continue, my brother slapped her across the face. Dora froze, then burst into wails loud enough to shake the walls. “Enough!” My dad slammed his cup down, shattering it. Dora stopped crying, startled. “If you don’t like it here, then leave!” he barked. Dora was about to cry again, but before she could speak, I stepped in. “Dora, I know it’s hard on you. You’ve done so much for this family. I’ll chip in an extra five hundred dollars a month. It’s not much, but it’s something.” That finally calmed her down. My dad shot me a look of disdain. “Ever since you came back, this house has been nothing but trouble. You ruined your husband’s life, and now, you’re ruining ours. Jinx.” He’d never liked me. He thought daughters were liabilities to be married off. My divorce only confirmed his belief, and he never missed an opportunity to remind me of it. Feeling guilty for causing “trouble”, I went out the next day and bought groceries, seafood, and gifts for everyone to smooth things over. But their attitudes didn’t change. Other than my mom occasionally speaking to me, the rest of the family treated me like an unwelcome guest, except when they needed me to pay for something. The summer camp my nephew attended came out of my pocket. I spent a lot of my savings on hiring a lawyer. By the time I realized living there cost more than renting my own place, it was too late. Every penny I spent seemed to benefit them, while I was left with nothing but resentment. Looking back, Dora’s tantrum over my brother’s income was just a ploy. The only one who ended up losing in that situation was me.

After work, I didn’t head straight home. The morning’s confrontation with Dora had left me unwilling to see her for a while. Instead, I called my mom to let her know I’d be late and not to wait for me for dinner. Growing up, my dad ruled the household with an iron fist. When my brother got older, he naturally took on the role of second-in-command. I always thought my mom and I were on the same team. She was soft-spoken, meek, and never had much say in anything. When my brother dropped out of middle school, I’d often come home from school to find him and my dad sprawled on the couch, watching TV or playing video games. Cigarette butts, snacks, and fruit peels littered the floor. Meanwhile, my mom bustled around the house cleaning up after them. She’d sweep the floor, ask them to toss their trash into the bin, and then head to the kitchen to cook. By the time she came back, the place would already be a mess again. I felt sorry for her. Whenever I had time, I’d help with the chores. When my dad hit her, I’d step in between them, trying to shield her, hoping she could have a better life. When I won the iPad, I shared my excitement only with her, making her promise not to tell anyone else. Yet, the next morning, Dora knew. That evening, my mom called to check if I’d be working late. Frustrated, I asked, “Mom, didn’t I tell you not to mention the iPad? How does Dora already know?” She hesitated for a moment before replying meekly, “Oh, last night when you told me, she might’ve overheard a bit. And then she asked me about it this morning…” I snapped, “You could’ve made something up! Now she’s hounding me for it. What am I supposed to do?” “I’m sorry, Emily,” she murmured. “I didn’t think it through. She said Mark needed it for his studies, so I told her…” Despite my repeated warnings, she’d sold me out. I was so angry I could feel it in my chest. For a moment, I said nothing. After a brief silence, she tentatively added, “Emily, if you’re not using it, maybe you could give it to your nephew. Dora can be hard to deal with, but Mark’s studies shouldn’t suffer…” Mark, whose school performance was consistently at the bottom of his class, who was frequently called out for parent-teacher meetings. Suddenly his academic future depended on my iPad as if it were his golden ticket to Harvard or Yale. I hung up, unwilling to argue further. When I finally got home, the house was unusually quiet. This was around the time my nephew was supposed to be in bed, though he often stayed up late, glued to the TV or his phone. Most nights, his resistance would spark loud arguments with his mother in the living room. But tonight, only my parents were there. My brother and his family were nowhere in sight. I retreated to my room, determined to list my iPad for sale online. My finances were tight, and although I’d been wavering between keeping it for myself or selling it for extra cash, Dora’s antics had helped me make up my mind. I opened the drawer of my desk, only to find the iPad missing. It was gone.

My desk drawer had a lock, but it had been so long since I used it that the key was nowhere to be found. I figured it was safe enough at home, so I left for work without a second thought. Yet now, the iPad was gone. My first thought was Dora. Ever since moving back, I’d noticed things mysteriously disappearing, such as half-used skincare products, makeup, clothes I didn’t wear often, face masks, and snacks. These weren’t expensive items, so I decided to let it slide to avoid unnecessary drama. But now, she had the audacity to take something as valuable as my iPad? Fury coursed through me as I stormed out of my room to confront her. My brother was out drinking with friends, leaving Dora and my nephew lounging on their bed. When I barged in, her first instinct was to push the iPad down behind her and her son, but we were too close, and I’d already seen it clearly. “You don’t even knock before coming in?” Dora fired the first shot. I shot back. “And when have you ever knocked before entering my room?” “What kind of attitude is that? Don’t forget who’s house you’re living in!” she snapped. “You eat our food, use our things, and I practically slave away for you every day. No woman would put up with this from her husband’s sister. “And you still live with your parents? If I were you, I’d rather be crashed by a car!” I couldn’t believe the audacity. These tiny houses in the area rented for maybe a thousand dollars tops, yet I was paying her two thousand dollars a month just for the “privilege” of being treated like dirt. “This is my home,” I shouted back. “And I have every right to stay here, even if I don’t pay a single cent!” “Your home?” Dora sneered. “Who do you think you are? No wonder your husband left you. Married for three years and couldn’t even pop out a kid! Women like you deserve to be barren!” What kind of backward, archaic mindset was this? She sounded like having a son was the pinnacle of human achievement, a prize to flaunt. I forced a cold laugh, trying to rein in my temper as I remembered the reason I came here. “I’m not here to argue. Just give me back the iPad.” Her guilty glance at the iPad confirmed my suspicion, but she retorted, “How do you know it’s yours? I bought this today! You see a tablet and go crazy? You’re delusional!” Her shamelessness was mind-boggling. I let out a slow, deliberate laugh before calmly pulling out my phone and called the police. “Every iPad has a unique serial number,” I said coolly. “I took a photo of it and posted it on my social media when I got it. You’d better stick to your story when the police arrive.” Her face twisted in panic as I was about to press the call button. She lunged at me, knocking the phone from my hand. It hit the ground with a sickening crack, the screen shattering on impact. She didn’t stop there. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she screamed, “You dare call the cops? I’ll kill you!” Anger surged through me, and adrenaline gave me unexpected strength. I shoved her hard, sending her sprawling onto the edge of the bed. Seeing his mother fall, my nephew, who had been lounging like a lazy lion cub, suddenly sprang into action. Towering over me, he pointed a finger at my nose and yelled, “How dare you push my mom!” This boy, tall and burly for his age, had been sweet-talking me for money ever since I moved in. His “Auntie, you’re the best!” routine had always netted him fifty dollars here, fifty dollars there. I thought our relationship was decent, not close, but far from hostile. Yet here he was, fists clenched, ready to charge at me like a rabid dog. As he swung, my parents finally appeared in the doorway, drawn by the commotion. “Are you all out of your minds? I’m not dead yet!” my father roared, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. Dora, now fully recovered, darted to my parents, dramatically clutching her arm. “Look at what your precious daughter has done to me!” she wailed. “She pushed me, threatened to call the police, and claimed I stole her iPad! Call them! Let’s see who they take away, her for hitting me or me for doing absolutely nothing wrong!” Before I could open my mouth to defend myself, my father’s hand lashed out, a slap that landed squarely on my cheek. The force left me stunned, clutching my stinging face as my surroundings blurred. The room fell deathly silent. Even Dora, mid-sob, shut her mouth. My mother’s lips quivered as tears welled in her eyes, but I couldn’t hear her over the ringing in my ears. My father’s face was a mask of rage as he spat, “All you do is embarrassing me! If you cause one more problem, don’t bother coming back to this house!”

I had feared my father since childhood; his authority was absolute in our household. When he was younger, his temper was even more volatile, often waking me in the middle of the night with his yelling. He’d come home drunk, and if my mother so much as uttered a word of advice or took too long to answer the door, he’d grab her hair and shove her onto the couch to beat her. I never knew if other fathers were like this. Growing up, the way he looked at me was filled with hatred, but he lavished my brother with affection. When introducing my brother, he’d beam with pride, calling him “my son” even though my brother was a troublemaker with no redeeming qualities. As for me? Even though I consistently excelled in school, at home, I was treated like a servant to be ordered around. I rarely spoke to my father or looked him in the eye. I never resisted him, except for one instance when he hit my mother. I couldn’t stand it and threw myself over her. Now, hearing his angry command to stop, my instinct was to back down, just as I always had. But as I looked around at Dora’s smug face, my hateful nephew, my father’s heaving chest, and my mother’s tear-streaked, helpless expression, I felt an overwhelming wave of disgust. Closing my eyes, I pushed down all my resentment and pain, speaking as calmly as I could. “It was Dora who took my iPad first.” Dora immediately shrieked, “There she goes again! Still lying through your teeth at a time like this! Does it have your name on it? How dare you. You’re trying to scam me because you’re desperate!” I let out a sneer. “You know exactly who’s scamming who. Are you absolutely sure you bought this iPad today?” “Of course!” She shot back. “Good. Then, I can rest easy,” I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm. “If I prove it’s mine, what are you prepared to do?” Dora faltered, glancing at the upturned iPad, then straightened her posture with feigned confidence. “What do you want?” “You’ll bow and apologize, then compensate me for a new iPad and phone at full price.” “Why should I?” Dora roared, her face red with anger. My father, feeling his authority undermined, barked, “I told you to stop this nonsense!” His barely contained fury made me flinch instinctively, but today, I wasn’t going to back down. “You said you bought it this morning. So, why are you afraid? Guilty conscience?” “Afraid? Of what?” Dora spat, her voice dripping with defiance. She turned to my dad and added, “Look at her! She wants me to kneel! Who does she think she is? No manners at all!” The last four words hit my father like a slap in the face. His expression turned a mix of green and white as he glanced at Dora, his gaze tinged with displeasure. Dora, oblivious to his reaction, continued her relentless verbal assault on me. Annoyed, I interrupted her tirade, “Wanna bet? If I can’t prove it’s mine, I’ll pay you ten times the price.” To ensure she understood, I added, “This model costs nearly five thousand dollars on the official website. Ten times means fifty thousand dollars. Are you in or not?” Dora hesitated for a moment, but the mention of fifty thousand dollars made her eyes gleam with greed.

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Everyone knew that Lucas Ryan only married me out of spite because he couldn’t have the one he truly loved. For five years of marriage, he was the perfect husband in public—a renowned cardiologist adored by many.But behind closed doors, he was cold, distant, and had asked for a divorce more times than I could count. Then his first love, Evelyn Snow, returned to the country due to illness. Lucas devoted himself to her care, never leaving her side. He even warned me repeatedly:“Eve’s heart condition is delicate. If you dare show up and stress her out, we’re done for good.” Finally, during his hundredth demand for a divorce, I agreed. What Lucas didn’t know, however, was that I was already carrying his child. On the way to the courthouse to finalize the divorce, I was in a car accident. Both my life and my unborn child’s were lost in an instant. Lucas didn’t get the divorce papers that day, but he did get the news that Evelyn had found a perfect heart donor match. Excited, he rushed back to the hospital and performed the surgery himself, taking the heart from my lifeless body and placing it into hers. It wasn’t until later that he remembered our divorce—but by then, my phone would never ring again.

The pain finally disappeared the moment my soul left my body. I hovered above the scene, staring at the mangled car smoking in the rain. The driver’s seat was crushed beyond recognition, and the body slumped inside was twisted and broken in every way imaginable. Today was supposed to mark our fifth wedding anniversary. Ironically, it was also the day Lucas asked for a divorce for the hundredth time. Over the years, I had tried to ignore the cracks in our fragile relationship, hoping that somehow, we’d make it work. But this time, I finally agreed to let go. Five years is a long time, even if most of it was marked by distance and tension. Regardless of how things were, we’d spent a significant part of our lives together. But everything changed a month ago when Evelyn returned from abroad, her health deteriorating. From that moment on, Lucas never came home. He stayed at the hospital, tirelessly caring for her. Everyone knew he had married me out of anger and heartbreak after Evelyn rejected him. But I had loved him for years, long before he even knew my name. So, even when I found out the truth, I stayed. Loving him was as natural as breathing, no matter how much it hurt. My thoughts returned to the present as I watched the ambulance from St. Mercy’s Hospital load my broken body into the back. I followed instinctively. Lucas worked at St. Mercy’s, where he was a legendary cardiologist. Patients and staff worshipped him. Yet, as his wife, I couldn’t even go to him for a cold. On our wedding day, he had made it clear:“I don’t want to see you at my workplace.”“And don’t bother me over trivial things.” That’s why I never told him I was pregnant. As I floated above the ambulance, my hand drifted to my stomach. The life I had carried, the one I had dreamed of for years, was gone now—just like me. Tears streamed down my face, silent and endless, as an ache settled deep in my chest. That child was supposed to be my miracle, my hope after five long years. My body wasn’t taken to the morgue. Instead, it was wheeled into the operating room on the fifth floor. The door to the operating room opened, and two figures stepped inside. “Dr. Ryan, this isn’t legal without the family’s consent…” The voice belonged to Mason, Lucas’s protégé. I knew him well; over the years, he had eaten countless meals I’d brought for Lucas. Evelyn scoffed and crossed her arms as she walked toward my lifeless body. She glanced at me before quickly turning her head, unable to hide the disgust in her eyes. “I’ve waited far too long for a compatible heart. I’m not about to let this opportunity slip away,” she said coldly. Then, without hesitation, she turned to Mason. “Call Lucas. Tell him to come back and perform the surgery himself.” Mason hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He opened his mouth as if to protest but said nothing. Evelyn pulled out a card from her purse and handed it to him. “There’s fifty grand on this card. This stays between us. No one has to know.” Mason stared at the card, torn between guilt and greed. Finally, after a long pause, he took it and dialed Lucas. The phone rang a few times before Lucas’s voice filled the room. “What is it?” he asked, sounding impatient. Mason glanced at Evelyn before answering softly. “Dr. Ryan, we found a suitable donor for Evelyn. The body is in the operating room. You should come back.” The indifference in Lucas’s voice evaporated, replaced by palpable excitement. “Are you serious?! I’ll be there right away!” “Eve won’t have to worry about this anymore…” His voice was jubilant, overflowing with relief and joy. Each word felt like a dagger to my chest. My tears blurred everything as I looked at the operating table where my body lay. If Lucas knew it was my heart he was about to take, would he still sound so happy?

It didn’t even take thirty minutes for Lucas Ryan to return to the hospital. Out of breath, he rushed down the hallway and pulled Evelyn Snow into his arms. His voice was filled with relief and joy as he said,“Evelyn, you’re finally going to be okay.” Hearing this, Evelyn’s eyes welled up with tears, and she leaned into his chest, her voice trembling as she whispered,“Lucas, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even want this heart… I’d rather give up.” Lucas tightened his embrace, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. His voice was full of unwavering promise:“Don’t worry. I’ll divorce Claire soon.”“I only married her because I was angry with you.” Even though this was something everyone seemed to know, hearing it from Lucas’s own lips still sent a sharp pain through my heart. So, this was how deeply he loved Evelyn Snow. So, even after five years, I hadn’t been able to melt the ice around his heart. The ache in my chest deepened as Lucas comforted Evelyn, telling her to prepare for surgery. He then walked into the operating room with Mason to scrub in. Performing a heart transplant was nothing more than routine for Lucas. It was the kind of procedure he could do with his eyes closed. But when he saw the bloodied body lying on the operating table, he couldn’t help but frown. “Mason, why wasn’t this cleaned up before it was brought in?” he asked, his tone sharp. Mason hesitated, his nervous gaze avoiding Lucas’s. He stammered,“Dr. Ryan, Evelyn’s match is so rare… And, well… keeping the heart fresh was the priority.” Lucas didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took the scalpel from Mason’s hand and prepared to begin. But just as he was about to make the first incision, he paused. I followed his gaze and realized he was staring at my left hand. There, on my ring finger, was the diamond wedding ring I had designed myself. The blood that covered it only made it more striking. I had even made Lucas a matching band for our wedding, but he had hated it. On the day of our marriage, he locked it away in a drawer and never wore it again. “What’s wrong, Dr. Ryan?” Mason asked, confused by his hesitation. Lucas shook his head but spoke with a faint trace of regret in his voice.“She was unlucky. Her husband must be devastated.” As he said this, he made the incision, opening up my chest. Mason stood beside him, passing him tools as needed. At one point, he added,“And… after running the tests, we found out she was two months pregnant.” “Really tragic when you think about it.” This time, Lucas didn’t reply. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, like an invisible weight pressing down on everyone. I watched him from a distance, memories flooding back. Last winter, I fell terribly ill. My fever was so high that I couldn’t even get out of bed. Lucas was home that night, but he barely noticed. He was too busy working on a paper for some medical journal. I spent the entire night shivering and burning up, too weak to call for help. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the doctors said I had narrowly escaped death. When I finally woke up, the first thing Lucas did was scold me. “You’re an adult. If you’re feeling this bad, why didn’t you say something?!” His eyes were cold, filled with anger. “Or was this your way of getting my attention?” I didn’t have the strength to argue with him. I wanted to remind him that he had always told me not to bother him, even if I was sick. I had been nothing but obedient, so why was he still angry? Now, standing in this operating room, I couldn’t help but wonder: How could Lucas show compassion for a stranger but be so heartless toward me, the woman who had been by his side for five years?

The heart was successfully transplanted. Six hours later, it beat again—this time inside Evelyn Snow’s body. The moment Lucas Ryan stepped out of the operating room, he went straight to Evelyn’s recovery ward. He stood by her bedside, watching her sleep peacefully. Only then did he let out a long sigh of relief. Once he was sure Evelyn was stable, Lucas returned to his office. He sank into his chair and pulled out his phone, only to find the screen blank—no messages, no missed calls. It was strange. I used to text him endlessly every single day, sharing every mundane detail of my life—what I ate, what I was working on, how my day went. But Lucas never responded. Not once. He stared at his phone for a few moments, then opened his contacts. His thumb hovered over my name before he hesitated, but eventually, he made the call. The line rang and rang, the mechanical tone echoing in the silence, until it automatically disconnected. On the other end, there was no one to pick up. Frustrated, Lucas put the phone down, opened our old chat thread, and recorded two voice messages, his irritation unmistakable: “Claire, you already agreed to the divorce. Whether you answer your phone or not won’t change my decision.”“And don’t think playing hard to get will make me reconsider.” I watched him angrily send the messages, a faint smile tugging at my lips. It was bitter and hollow. “Lucas Ryan,” I murmured softly, “if you hated me this much, why did you marry me in the first place?” But it didn’t matter anymore. The wife he despised had died in today’s storm. He wouldn’t have to deal with me ever again. For the first time, Lucas’s messages disappeared into the void, unanswered. I faded from his world, quietly and without a trace. And yet, he didn’t look for me. He assumed I was being difficult, hiding away because I didn’t want the divorce. He was so certain of it that he didn’t bother to question my absence. Meanwhile, my body lay unclaimed in the hospital morgue. It wasn’t surprising. After all, I was an orphan. Growing up in a group home, I had no family to call my own. My only real accomplishment in life was earning a spot at one of the country’s top design schools. And, of course, marrying Lucas Ryan. Back in college, Lucas wasn’t just the star of the medical school—he was the star. Top of his class, impossibly handsome, and untouchable, he was the dream of every girl on campus. Even at my school across town, everyone had heard about the perfect love story between Lucas Ryan and Evelyn Snow. The first time I saw him was at a joint event between our universities. He stood tall in the crowd, dressed in a custom-tailored suit that screamed wealth and elegance. He spoke with effortless charm, surrounded by people who seemed magnetically drawn to him. His presence was so dazzling, it was almost blinding. That night, I was cornered by a drunken guy who wouldn’t leave me alone. Lucas was the one who stepped in, pulling me out of the situation. My quiet, reserved heart raced for the first time. But I knew better. Lucas Ryan was a world apart from me. He was untouchable, and besides, he already had Evelyn. So I buried my feelings deep inside, content to admire him from a distance. It was a foolish dream, I thought. People like me—those who clawed their way out of the dirt—had no business reaching for stars like him. I thought that would be the first and last time our paths crossed. But fate had other plans. Lucas and Evelyn eventually broke up. I wasn’t sure why, and it wasn’t my place to ask. One sunny afternoon, I happened to be delivering custom cufflinks to one of Lucas’s friends. Lucas was there, standing by the window, bathed in golden light. He looked up at me, his gaze calm and detached, and asked a question that would change everything: “Do you want to marry me?”

“Claire still isn’t answering her phone?” In the hospital room, Evelyn Snow’s pale face grew even more ashen. Her eyes reddened, and tears spilled over as she looked at Lucas Ryan, her voice trembling. “Lucas, in the five years you were married to her… did you really never feel anything for her? Not even once?” Her voice cracked as she continued, her emotions unraveling. “Is she really missing, or are you lying to me? Was this all a trick because… you never actually wanted to marry me? Because you never forgave me for leaving you back then?” By the time she finished, Evelyn burst into heart-wrenching sobs. I stood by the window, quietly leaning against the frame, watching them. My emotions had oddly settled over the past few days. I wasn’t even angry anymore. I had expected this. I guessed Lucas would pull her into his arms, soothing her like he always did. And sure enough, a second later, he frowned, stood, and wrapped the trembling Evelyn in a comforting embrace. See? I guessed right. “Claire agreed to the divorce,” he said calmly, patting Evelyn’s back as if to reassure her. “I don’t know why she suddenly disappeared, but don’t worry. I’ll go through with the divorce.” “And then I’ll marry you.” Just as those words left his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Before Lucas could react, two uniformed police officers walked into the room. Lucas froze, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Officers, is there a problem?” Before the police could respond, the door burst open again. Mason stumbled in, panting heavily, his face pale as he stammered, “Dr. Ryan… C-Claire… Claire is dead.”

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The day my wife gave birth to a child for her terminally ill first love, her parents hired ten security guards to stand outside the delivery room. But even as the delivery ended, I didn’t show up to make a scene. Her mother held her hand, comforting her. “Sarah, don’t worry. As long as we’re here, he won’t get within ten feet of you.” “Your dad’s stationed at the hospital entrance too. If he dares to come here and stop you from having this baby, we’ll call the police!” Sarah, pale and exhausted, nodded weakly, but her eyes kept darting toward the elevator doors. When she saw only empty hallways, she finally exhaled in relief. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just support her decision to have a child for her first love, Thomas. Looking at the nurse cradling the crying newborn, Sarah smiled with satisfaction. She thought to herself, If Brian comes to see me tomorrow, I’ll let bygones be bygones. I’ll even let him raise this child as his own father. What she didn’t know was that I had submitted my application to the United Nations earlier that day. In seven days, I would renounce my citizenship to become a doctor with Doctors Without Borders. I would leave this country—and her—forever. The day Sarah left the maternity recovery center, I had just finished handing over my hospital responsibilities. As I approached the front door, I heard laughter and cheerful voices inside. “This baby is gorgeous! Those big eyes—definitely got the best features from his dad,” Sarah’s mother cooed as she played with the baby in her arms. Meanwhile, Thomas was walking out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl of chicken soup. “I made this myself. You’re still weak; you need to take care of yourself,” he said, sitting beside Sarah and gently feeding her like they were the perfect little family. Sarah’s father sat nearby, shaking a rattle for the baby, grinning ear to ear. “This kid is just so lovable! Definitely takes after his dad. Thank God it’s not Brian—that guy’s such a bore. Imagine having a doctor for a father—what a nightmare!” My hand tightened on the doorknob. I thought back to the first time I met Sarah’s father. He had slapped me on the back and said being a doctor was a noble calling, how saving lives was an honor for the whole family. He even mentioned that he, too, had been a doctor before retiring early after a workplace injury. But now, here he was, sneering about how a doctor didn’t deserve a family. I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Sarah and I had been married for three years. She told me early on that she didn’t want kids, and I respected that. I knew how dangerous childbirth could be, so I never pressured her. I still remember the day I left for my year-long advanced medical training abroad. She had cried so hard, saying she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. For that entire year, we talked every day, sharing every little detail of our lives. Even my colleagues teased me, saying we were like newlyweds who couldn’t get enough of each other, even after three years of marriage. But then, a month ago, I managed to take a break and fly home. After sitting through an exhausting eight-hour flight, I didn’t even stop to rest. I rushed straight home, only to find Sarah heavily pregnant, standing beside her first love, Thomas. My thoughts were interrupted by Thomas’s voice. “Brian, when did you get back? Why are you just standing there? Come in!” At his words, everyone in the room turned to look at me. When Sarah’s father noticed the resignation letter in my hand, his expression darkened. “Why the hell did I ever agree to let my daughter marry someone like you? What a disgrace. Quitting your job now—what are you planning to do? Live off us?!” “What kind of husband are you, huh?” Sarah’s mother jumped in, her voice sharp. “You quit your job? You couldn’t even hold onto a high-paying, stable career as a doctor? What else can you do?” “Sarah just had a baby! She and the child need money for everything! Are you planning to let the three of them starve?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “Whose wife and child? Whoever they belong to should be the one providing for them.” “Brian, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Sarah’s voice rose, her eyes red with anger. She glared at me, her chest heaving with frustration. She coughed violently, and Thomas quickly moved to comfort her, rubbing her back with a look of concern. Taking a deep breath, Sarah shouted, “Three years ago, if it wasn’t for Thomas saving me in that car accident, I’d be dead! His parents are gone, and now he’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Soon, the world won’t even remember him!” “Why do you keep targeting him? Do you really think I’m some kind of filthy, immoral woman?” Thomas gave her a pained look before turning to me. “Brian, just let it go. This is all my fault. I promise I’ll disappear from your lives from now on. Just don’t let me ruin your marriage.” I looked at the four of them—the perfect little family—and felt a wave of irony wash over me. So this was what a real family looked like. Sarah took a deep breath before speaking again. “Brian, my patience has limits. If you keep badmouthing Thomas for no reason, then don’t bother coming home anymore!” “If you want to stay married to me, you’ll behave yourself. At the baby’s party next week, I’ll even announce in front of all our friends and family that you’re the baby’s father.” Next week? I glanced at the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib. By next week, I’d already be on a plane to another country. But before I left, I didn’t mind giving them a parting gift they’d never forget. Without a change in expression, I nodded. “Alright.” 2 After finishing my sentence, I didn’t bother to wait for their reaction. I turned and headed to the bedroom to pack my things. Since I’d already decided to leave for good, I didn’t want to leave any trace of myself behind. The laughter from the living room seeped through the closed door as I folded my clothes, making my hands pause for a moment. “Thomas, I’ve been thinking…” Sarah’s voice drifted in, soft but filled with affection. “I’d like the baby to have your last name. That way, no matter who he calls ‘Dad’ in the future, he’ll always remember that you are his real father.” Even without seeing her face, I could imagine the tender smile she must have worn as she said those words. And just like that, my heart, already riddled with wounds, took another blow. My mind flashed back to last month, when I’d flown home after a year abroad. I’d been so eager to see Sarah that I hadn’t cared about the long flight. I even brought home a special gift I’d picked out for her. But the moment I reached our front door, I froze. There she was, walking hand-in-hand with Thomas, laughing as they returned from a stroll. Sarah’s face turned pale with panic when she saw me, but Thomas just looked confused, staring at me like I was a stranger who’d wandered into the wrong house. “Are you sure you’ve got the right door?” he asked, his tone casual and mocking. I didn’t say a word. My eyes were fixed on Sarah’s swollen belly. Eleven months. I’d been gone for eleven months, and now my wife was pregnant. No matter how much I wanted to lie to myself, there was no way this child could be mine. Sarah’s panic grew as she rushed to stand between us, stammering an introduction. “This is my husband, Brian…” I thought Thomas would back off after hearing that, but instead, he acted like he owned the place. With an infuriating smirk, he invited me—invited me—into my own home. As we passed each other in the doorway, he leaned in close and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear: “I hear you’re a bit older than me. Guess I should call you ‘big bro.’ After all, my kid’s living in your house.” My blood boiled. I couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, I swung my fist and slammed it into his face. Years of longing, frustration, and betrayal erupted all at once. If there’d been a knife nearby, I might’ve done something I’d regret for the rest of my life. The neighbors must’ve heard the commotion because it wasn’t long before the police arrived. We were both taken to the station, but since it was deemed a “domestic matter,” the cops couldn’t intervene. They sent us home with a warning. When we got back, Sarah’s parents were waiting for us. Before I could explain, they immediately tore into me. “How dare you cause such a scene the moment you come back? Do you know how embarrassing this is for us? The whole neighborhood must think we’re a joke now!” “All those years of school, and this is what you’ve learned? Resorting to violence? If something had happened to Thomas, we’d never forgive you!” It was then I realized they’d known about Sarah and Thomas all along—and not only that, they supported it. In just one year, Thomas had become their perfect son-in-law, while I’d been kept in the dark. Bitter laughter bubbled in my throat as Sarah nervously approached me, trying to take my hand. “I never meant to betray you, Brian,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Thomas… he’s not well. The doctors said he only has six months to live. I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying without leaving behind a child.” “I wanted to tell you, but you were so far away, and I didn’t want to distract you from your work. I thought we could talk about it when you got back.” “Brian, we can raise this baby together. Please?” She spoke about having a child so casually, as if it were just another errand on her to-do list. I didn’t respond. I just zipped up my suitcase and turned to leave. Before I could reach the door, Sarah’s mother walked in. She glanced at the suitcase by my feet and gave me a condescending smile. “Good. At least you know your place. While you were gone, I let Thomas stay in your room. The study’s been turned into a nursery, so you can sleep on the couch tonight—or better yet, find a hotel.” I was too drained to argue. Nodding silently, I headed to the living room and lay down on the couch. That night, the baby’s cries echoed from the bedroom. I rolled over and reached for my earplugs, but then I heard Sarah’s annoyed voice. “Thomas, can’t you do something? He won’t stop crying.” “You’re my baby too,” Thomas teased. “Why don’t I take care of you instead? Let the little guy cry—it’s good for his lungs.” Sarah giggled, whispering something too soft for me to hear, followed by the unmistakable sound of rustling sheets. I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to block out the noise. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sarah’s face from the night she first confessed her love to me—so pure, so full of hope. That version of her was gone, replaced by someone I no longer recognized. 3 I barely slept through the night, tossing and turning on the couch. At dawn, I grabbed my suitcase and left without a word. My first stop was the municipal office, where I filed the paperwork to renounce my citizenship and finalize my plans to leave the country. The process was surprisingly quick—having the right government approvals made everything smooth, and the clerk didn’t ask many questions. Just as I was about to leave, the clerk called out to me. She handed me a small piece of candy, her smile kind. “May your wishes come true,” she said softly. I gave her a faint smile, thanked her, and walked out. After checking into a nearby hotel and dropping off my suitcase, I decided to head out and find something to eat. But as fate would have it, I ran into Sarah and Thomas, surrounded by her parents—and their new baby. Thomas looked nothing like a man on the brink of death. He was dressed in a tailored Armani suit, his face glowing with health. “Brian! Wow, I thought I saw you earlier, but Sarah insisted it couldn’t be you,” Thomas called out, his voice dripping with mock surprise. His eyes landed on the recruitment flyer in my hand, and a smirk spread across his face. “So, you’re out here job hunting, huh? With your scrawny frame, are you planning to work construction? Seems like a bit much for you, doesn’t it?” I didn’t respond. The flyer had been handed to me by a young girl on the street, shivering as she stood in the winter cold. Out of sympathy, I’d taken it from her without even looking at it. Thomas took my silence as an opportunity to continue. His laughter grew louder, more mocking. “You should’ve told me you needed help. Who knows? Maybe I could’ve pulled some strings for you. After all, we’re family now, right? If you do well, Sarah will be happy, and I’ll sleep better at night knowing she’s taken care of.” His words hung in the air. My silence must’ve looked like agreement because Sarah’s expression darkened. Her brows furrowed deeply, and the disdain in her eyes became impossible to miss. “Why would anyone help him? He quit a perfectly good job as a doctor, and now he’s out here looking for work? If he starves on the streets, that’s his own fault. He deserves no sympathy.” She crossed her arms, glaring at me. “Brian, you really have no sense of responsibility, do you? What, you think this little act will guilt me into giving up the baby? Dream on.” I looked at her face—once so familiar, filled with warmth and love. Now, she was a stranger to me. I thought back to the early days of our marriage. Once, when the hospital’s cutthroat competition had left me demoralized and considering a career change, Sarah had held me close. I could still hear her voice as she gently patted my back and whispered in my ear: “We’re in this together, no matter what. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.” “Who cares if you leave the hospital? You’re brilliant, and I know you’ll shine no matter where you go. I’ll always be by your side.” But now, that same woman stood by silently as another man humiliated me. She’d forgotten those promises. She’d forgotten the love we once shared. Even her parents, who had once welcomed me into their family with open arms, were now shaking their heads in disappointment. Sarah’s father let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve been blind to think you could give my daughter the future she deserves.” “Good thing we’re still around,” her mother added. “If we weren’t here to protect Sarah, who knows what kind of life she’d have with someone like you?” Their voices grew louder, more exaggerated, and I could feel the stares of passersby on the street. My hands slowly clenched at my sides. I was about to speak when Thomas stepped forward, his voice filled with mock sincerity. “We’re actually on our way to take a family portrait. Brian, why don’t you join us? After all, I’ll be counting on you to help take care of Sarah and the baby in the future.” Before I could respond, Sarah let out a cold laugh and cut him off. “Are you serious? Look at him—he looks so pathetic. If he gets in the picture, he’ll just drag down the whole family’s image.” With that, she turned around and started walking toward the photography studio, not bothering to look back. “Hurry up, Thomas,” she called out impatiently. Thomas gave me a smug smile and patted me on the shoulder. “Well, we don’t want to hold you up, Brian. Good luck with the job hunt.” I watched them walk away, their laughter fading into the distance. From the outside, they must’ve looked like the picture-perfect family. If that was the life Sarah wanted, who was I to stand in her way? Letting go was the only gift I had left to give her. 4 Three days before I was set to leave, I received a message from the hospital director. He told me that the cardiologist I’d reached out to—a world-renowned expert—was in town for a medical conference. It was the perfect opportunity to have him examine Sarah’s father’s heart condition. Sarah’s father had always had heart issues. Years ago, he’d even been rushed to the ER for emergency surgery. While I was abroad for my medical training, I collected case studies and resources to help manage his condition. No matter what had happened between us, I still felt obligated to help. After all, years of being family couldn’t be erased overnight. I figured this would be my last act of goodwill before cutting ties with them completely. But when I told him about the appointment, his face darkened immediately. “Why on earth would I go to the hospital? Are you trying to curse me or something? That bypass surgery I had years ago was a success—what’s the point of another checkup?” “There’s a top cardiologist in town today,” I explained calmly. “It would be a good chance to get ahead of any potential issues—” Before I could finish, he hurled a water glass at me, the contents splashing across my shirt. “Cut the crap! You think a jobless bum like you could get an appointment with a top expert? Stop bragging! Thomas stayed up all night once to get me an appointment with a specialist. Where were you when I needed that?” Every word, every comparison to Thomas, made his opinion of me crystal clear. No matter what I did, I would always be wrong. No matter how hard I tried, I would never measure up to Thomas.

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In my previous life, I merely tried to protect our female CEO from excessive drinking, but out of jealousy, Manager Declan spread rumors that I was a sugar baby climbing the corporate ladder through women. What was once a harmonious workplace became a hostile environment. Colleagues viewed me with contempt, mocking and ridiculing me. There was even an online rumor that I had been a male model. My mother’s house was vandalized with paint and funeral money—an act so cruel it caused her to have a heart attack and pass away. When I sought revenge on Manager Declan, he hit me with his car, killing me. After being reborn, I decided to win over the female CEO and start my path to revenge. It’s been two months since my rebirth. Based on past events, today marks a turning point in my life. At 3 PM, the HR Department posted the candidate list for the branch company general manager position. There were only two names: Declan and me. It’s understandable for Declan, a vice president in charge of operations and management at headquarters, to be a candidate for branch company general manager. However, as someone who had been a group leader in the Planning Department for just over two years, my inclusion on the list caused quite a stir. The newly formed branch company encompasses the most profitable projects, such as online marketing, digital media, and social media platforms, representing the future of the entire group. Thus, the position of branch company general manager is incredibly important. “Why is Ezra’s name on the list? How long has he been here that he can already compete for the branch president position?” “If something seems unusual, there must be something hidden.” “Could it be that he traded something unspeakable for it?” “Since Ezra joined our company, I’ve noticed he’s not simple. In just a year, he rose to the group leader position.” “Maybe he even got into the CEO’s bed.” “Damn, these days, it’s all about looks in the workplace. Pretty boys are popular everywhere, while those of us who work hard see no hope.” In the Planning Department, colleagues mocked me with cold sarcasm, their eyes like daggers. “Everyone in the Planning Department, meeting in the conference room,” the supervisor called out. In the conference room, I saw Declan sitting at the head of the table, looking grim. After listening to the reports from the supervisor and each group leader, Declan’s tone shifted, and his eyes latched onto me like hooks. “I want to say something off-topic here: if you want a promotion and a raise, you need to follow the right path. Don’t engage in underhanded tactics. Protecting the CEO from drinks and currying favor won’t create a shortcut in life.” “Even if you get that position, do you think you can hold onto it forever? Short-term opportunism won’t be successful. Being a pretty boy and a sugar baby will make you a social outcast. Even if the CEO wants to protect you, she’ll have to think about the consequences.” “I absolutely won’t allow the unhealthy trend of being a gold digger and reaching the peak of life to spread in our company. Therefore, I’ve already instructed the Public Relations Department to set up a personal development class. Ezra, your name is already on the list. I hope you study hard and reform your thinking.” After the meeting, my colleagues’ disdain for me reached its peak. “Sure enough, he relied on shielding the CEO from drinks to climb up. Shameless.” “Comparison is infuriating. Some people get to the top with just a few drinks, while we work like dogs and are stuck in the same place.” “Damn, I’ve decided. Tomorrow, I’ll take out a loan to get plastic surgery and become a pretty boy. No point working hard.” “Group Leader Ezra, so when you said you had a stomach illness, it was because you were shielding the CEO from drinks? You truly ‘worked hard.’ I’ll have to learn from you.” All sorts of sarcastic remarks surrounded me.

In my past life, these sarcastic, cutting words tormented me into insomnia night after night. Eventually, I begged CEO Genevieve to remove me from the candidate list, but Genevieve said she had given it careful thought. In this life, my colleagues’ words won’t affect my mood or life anymore. In my youth, I didn’t know the value of a wealthy woman, mistaking young women for treasures. Since a wealthy woman favors me, why should I resist? It’s been two months since I was reborn, and in these two months, I’ve already won over Genevieve. Two months ago, Genevieve asked me to accompany her to meet an important client, and during the event, I protected her from drinking again. Afterward, Genevieve drove me home and helped me upstairs. Taking advantage of my slight intoxication, I confessed my feelings to her. She remained silent… I blamed myself for confessing too hastily, too abruptly. “Let me think about it and get back to you,” Genevieve said shyly. Her words surprised me. The following days were filled with anxiety. I thought, with Genevieve’s status and wealth, finding someone more handsome than me would be easy. Just when I thought there was no hope, Genevieve sought me out and agreed to be my girlfriend. I was shocked and overjoyed. “I’m nine years older than you. Do you mind?” Genevieve asked sincerely. At that moment, I found her so charming, my heart rippled with emotion. Although she is nine years older, she takes such good care of herself that she looks younger than me. “An older woman is like hugging a golden brick, and I’m lucky to hug three. I’d be overjoyed, why would I mind?” I replied with a smile. And so, we were together, but kept it private. The next morning, I saw Beatrix, the group leader of Planning Group 2, struggling with a pile of folders, so I went to help. “Beatrix, let me help you with that.” “How could I trouble the future president?” Beatrix said sourly. We used to have a good relationship. “I just wanted to help.” “No need. Offering unsolicited kindness is either deceitful or thieving. I can’t afford help from a pretty boy like you. Besides, I have no money, so there’s no point in you taking advantage of me.” With that, she hurried away. I sighed. It was the same in my past life, but my mindset is much calmer now. After lunch, I returned to my desk and checked my chair. As expected, there was a thumbtack. In my past life, I didn’t notice and sat on it, jumping up in pain, looking ridiculous. I picked up the thumbtack, initially wanting to confront them, but I held back. “Who is so wicked to put a thumbtack on Group Leader Ezra’s chair?” It was my team member, Cora, speaking. “We wouldn’t do such a thing. Maybe the wind blew the thumbtack, and it just landed on his chair,” a male colleague said sarcastically. “How is that possible?” “These days, pretty boys can run for president. There’s nothing impossible.” “Watch your mouth,” Cora said indignantly. “Group Leader Ezra earned his spot with his own ability.” “Cora, are you eager to pledge loyalty?” “I just can’t stand your attitude.” I interrupted their argument, “Alright, stop talking.” “Group Leader Ezra…” Cora looked aggrieved, standing up for me. I nodded in appreciation.

Around 8 PM, I was working on a proposal at home when the doorbell rang. It was Cora. She had a bag of alcohol and smiled, “Group Leader Ezra, I know you’ve been feeling down and stressed lately. I happened to be passing by and thought I’d share a drink with you. You can tell me all about your grievances.” “Thank you. Come in.” The scenario was exactly like my past life, but this time, I was prepared… Early the next morning, people from the Public Relations Department stormed into the Planning Department to find me. “Ezra, why didn’t you attend the personal development class after work yesterday? Do you dare defy the company’s arrangements? Do you have any self-awareness at all? This class was set up specifically for you,” they said aggressively. I laughed and replied, “I’m here to work, not for some ridiculous thought reform. Also, after-hours belong to personal time, and the company has no right to interfere.” “As a company employee, you must comply with company regulations. If you refuse, you can resign.” “Whether I resign is not for you to decide.” “Fine, since you’re unrepentant, I’ll report your bad attitude to the HR Department and ensure you’re penalized in your evaluation.” “Go ahead.” “Hmph.” The Public Relations Department person turned and stormed off. “Wait.” “What, are you scared? Changed your mind? It’s too late. I must report your behavior to HR.” “Tell your boss, Declan, that I am determined to become the branch company president.” Upon hearing this, the person from the Public Relations Department looked shocked and angry before leaving. In my past life, I obediently followed Declan’s orders and attended the personal development class. I was the only one there, and the Public Relations Department people humiliated me, shattering my spirit. This time, I won’t be foolish enough to let you toy with me.

On a Sunday afternoon, I was cooking at Genevieve’s house. Every weekend, Genevieve and I spent time together. Over time, I slowly fell in love with this female CEO nine years my senior. She never flaunted her wealth or status around me. Instead, she was gentle and considerate, sometimes acting coy and snuggling in my arms. This was unexpected for me. The doorbell rang. I thought Genevieve was back. When I opened the door, I was stunned. The person at the door was stunned too. “Ezra, why are you at Genevieve’s house?” It was Declan. “Why can’t I be at Genevieve’s house?” He angrily shoved past me and stormed into the room. “Genevieve, Genevieve…” In the time we’ve spent together, I’ve gradually fallen for Genevieve, the female CEO who’s nine years older than me. Despite her status and wealth, she’s never been condescending. Instead, she’s gentle and considerate, sometimes even playfully leaning on me. I wasn’t expecting this. The doorbell rang. I thought it was Genevieve coming back. I opened the door and was caught off guard. The person at the door was equally surprised. “Ezra, why are you at CEO Genevieve’s house?” It was Declan, the manager. “Why shouldn’t I be here?” He angrily pushed past me and barged in, calling out, “CEO Genevieve, CEO Genevieve…” “Stop shouting. Genevieve went to the bank.” “Genevieve?” Declan was seething, “Who do you think you are to call her by her first name?” “Do I need your permission for that?” I replied with a smirk. He then noticed the apron I was wearing and the steaming dishes on the table, “You shameless gold digger, taking such a disgraceful path at your age.” “I have no choice. I’m handsome and I like this path. What can you do about it?” “Do you really think cooking and pouring drinks will make you the branch company general manager? You’re just a backup; that position is mine.” “Manager Declan, the announcement for the new branch company general manager is tomorrow. Your presence here today shows you’re not confident,” I chuckled. He glared at me, full of rage, “Ezra, I can’t believe someone as smart as CEO Genevieve would fall for someone like you.” “Anything is possible. Sometimes looks matter. Blame your parents for not making you handsome,” I teased. Just then, Genevieve returned. “Declan, why are you at my house?” Genevieve asked, confused. “CEO Genevieve, why is Ezra here? Is he really your kept man?” Declan asked, exasperated. Genevieve frowned, clearly displeased: “My personal life is none of your business, and he’s not a kept man. He has a name, so show some respect.” “Genevieve, you’re being blinded by him. He’s no good; he’s just using you for your position and money.” “Declan, I’ll say it again: my personal affairs are not your concern. Please leave, and in the future, let’s discuss work matters at the office. I don’t want you coming here,” Genevieve said coldly. “Genevieve, I’ve been with you from the start, building this company. You’re not just my CEO; you’re the woman I admire and love.” Declan’s unexpected confession shocked Genevieve. “Declan, we have a professional relationship only. Please know your place and stop speaking nonsense. Besides, I already have a boyfriend.” “What? You have a boyfriend? Is it Ezra?” “Yes, it’s Ezra.” I proudly wrapped my arm around Genevieve’s waist and kissed her, “Jealous?” Declan was furious, “CEO Genevieve, you’ve really let me down.” With that, he left in a huff. In a previous life, Declan spread rumors that I was Genevieve’s kept man. In this life, I might as well make the rumor true. Having a successful and beautiful girlfriend is really quite nice. The next day, on Monday, the HR Department posted an announcement: After thorough consideration, Ezra is appointed as the branch company general manager of Big Digital Network. The announcement led to some colleagues mocking and ridiculing. “Damn, in the end, looks win. Gold diggers are popular in any era.” “From today on, I need to spruce myself up and improve my drinking skills, waiting for my chance to charm.” Some colleagues tried to flatter me. After using the restroom, a male colleague quickly handed me a tissue. “Mr. Ezra, please look out for me in the future. I’ve wanted to follow you for a long time. Can you transfer me to the branch company?” “Mr. Ezra, this is top-notch Pu’er tea from my hometown. Please give it a try.” “Mr. Ezra, can I treat you to dinner tonight?” When Declan found out he was not selected, he was furious and stormed into Genevieve’s office with his team to demand an explanation. Genevieve decided to hold a staff meeting. The auditorium was packed, with some employees standing due to the lack of seats. Declan took the initiative: “CEO Genevieve, even though you’re the company chairman and have absolute control, the company belongs to all of us. You can’t just give Ezra such an important position because he’s your boyfriend. This behavior will dishearten employees and lead the company to ruin.” With that, the room erupted in murmurs. “What? Ezra is the chairman’s boyfriend?” “I thought it was just a rumor, but it’s true.” “I thought he was just a male escort, but he’s actually a boyfriend.” “This company is doomed.” “Quiet, quiet!” Genevieve called out several times with the microphone, then had her assistant turn on the projector to display an analysis PPT. “Everyone, throughout history, there’s been a saying about not avoiding relatives when selecting talents. Ezra is my boyfriend, but he’s also an outstanding talent. In the two-plus years he’s been with the company, he’s accomplished several innovations. He built the big database, established the client management service system, opened up online sales, and led the development of a social app. In just one year, it reached 30 million registered users, and his proposals have brought the company huge profits.” “In interactions with major clients, his demeanor and conduct have earned him their praise. Moreover, this personnel appointment was thoroughly discussed with several major shareholders and wasn’t just my personal decision.” The audience buzzed with conversation. “CEO Genevieve is right. Ezra has contributed a lot to the company.” “We were misled by Manager Declan’s rumors, focusing only on Ezra’s looks and forgetting his strong abilities.” “Comparatively, Ezra is indeed more suitable as the branch company general manager. He treats his subordinates fairly, unlike Manager Declan, who likes to form cliques and suppress dissenters.” At this point, Cora stood up and walked onto the stage. “Colleagues, I believe Ezra isn’t qualified to be the branch company general manager because he’s morally corrupt and a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” “During the time he was being criticized, I went to his house to comfort him. He pushed me down, and we had a relationship. Afterward, he said I would be his girlfriend and that we would get married. But this morning, he told me to pretend nothing happened that night because he’s with CEO Genevieve now. He abandoned me. He’s a modern-day Chen Shimei. I’ve sent the photos from that night to all the work groups. Check your phones.” Colleagues checked the group messages. I also looked, and in the Planning Department group, Cora had posted over a dozen photos from that night. The entire venue was in an uproar. “I can’t believe Ezra is such a scumbag. He’s with CEO Genevieve but also slept with Cora.” “What a dog. No matter how capable, his character is so low.” “This scumbag only knows how to play with women.” Declan smiled grimly and stood up, loudly addressing the colleagues, “Do you think Ezra deserves to be the branch company general manager?” “Unworthy, unworthy…” Colleagues stood up to protest. “If Ezra becomes general manager, we’ll all resign together.” Genevieve also checked the group messages, her face pale and embarrassed… “CEO Genevieve, you should know what kind of person Ezra is now, right? Make a decision quickly to stabilize morale,” Declan said smugly. I calmly walked onto the stage and questioned Cora, “Are you sure we slept together?”

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At the final meeting before my company’s IPO, my wife, who was supposed to be the keynote speaker, failed to show up. I frantically called her over and over, but every call went unanswered. Because of her absence, we lost the bid, and my company became a laughingstock in the industry. Yet, at that very moment, her so-called “bromeo” posted an update: [I just caught a cold, and this little one is already so worried.] I clicked on it, only to see a photo of my wife, whom I hadn’t seen in days. She crouched down and was feeding him medicine with a look of concern. At that moment, all the love I had for her over the past five years vanished into thin air. “Mr. Harrison, the bidding meeting has already started, and yet the keynote speaker hasn’t shown up. Are you giving us the upper hand? You’re so nice!” The rival company’s CEO gave me a hard pat on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with mockery. I stood frozen, unable to say a word. Today was supposed to be the final bid meeting, and if successful, our company would go public. Dozens of employees were relying on this success for their bonuses, and this project was the culmination of two years of effort. But now, it had all fallen apart. At that moment, Daphne’s bromeo, Matt, posted an update: [I just had some coughs, and someone dropped everything to take care of me.] The accompanying photo showed Matt being fed medicine by my wife, her face full of concern. It hit me then that she had skipped the meeting to take care of Matt’s cold. Just a few coughs, and Daphne was willing to abandon the hopes of dozens of employees and the fruits of our two years of hard work to rush to him. She was always aloof toward me, yet she was so attentive and thoughtful when it came to Matt. Tears I couldn’t suppress began to fall, and I slammed the steering wheel several times in frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a used condom tucked into the crevice of the car seat. Suddenly, it felt as if icy water had poured over me. I began trembling uncontrollably. The car had always been exclusively used by Daphne. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. I shut my eyes in despair. I thought she might have been emotionally unfaithful. But now it was clear—she and Matt had already crossed the line. I thought back to a few weeks ago, when Daphne uncharacteristically cooked for me for the first time ever. She had been unusually gentle and had said it was to celebrate my birthday. I thought I had finally moved her heart and that things could improve between us. Now it was obvious that she had only done that out of guilt after her affair. I opened her social media feed and found post after post documenting every little moment she shared with Matt. Not one post was about me. Even her phone wallpaper was a random selfie Matt casually took. I had brought up my discomfort about this before, but every time, she lashed out at me instead, accusing me of being unreasonable. “We’re just friends. What’s the big deal about using his photo? “If there was anything between us, do you think you’d still be in the picture?” She would glare at me with reddened eyes, leaving me no choice but to swallow my frustration. I kept convincing myself that she had no feelings for Matt, just a lack of boundaries. But now, the last bit of hope I had was shattered. I said: [Daphne, let’s get a divorce.] After sending her the message, I immediately contacted a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

When I got home, I started packing my things, intending to move out immediately. As I was tidying up, I stumbled upon a prenatal check-up report tucked into the cabinet. We hadn’t had sex for three months, so there was no way her child could be mine. I thought I had become numb, but seeing that report made my chest ache all over again. It felt like someone was strangling me, leaving me lightheaded and suffocating. I quietly placed the report back where I found it, took a photo of it, and left. Daphne still didn’t respond to my divorce message, as if she had vanished from the world. It wasn’t until two days later, when I forwarded her the divorce agreement, that she finally replied with a single question mark. She texted me: [What do you mean? Just because I’ve been gone for a few days, you want a divorce?] When I didn’t reply, she seemed to grow angrier. [Are you serious? Think this through. If we divorce, you’ll never find someone as good as me.] I replied: [I’ve already sent you the divorce agreement. Do you really think I’m joking?] I let out a cold laugh and urged her. [Sign it, and we can go finalize the divorce. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.] Then, I turned off my phone and headed straight to the office. Although some of my employees had grumbled about the situation, their trust in me kept them from leaving. I couldn’t let my personal problems affect them any further. Thankfully, we still had some funds to keep things running, so I gave everyone a 5000-dollar bonus. I said to them, “This failure isn’t the end. There’s another chance to go public in two months. Let’s give it our all.” The employees were excited and returned to work with renewed energy. I then called HR and instructed them to draft a termination letter for Daphne. “Are you sure about this, boss? Won’t there be… repercussions with Mrs. Harrison?” “Do it. Make sure she gets it today. Whatever happens with this company after, it has nothing to do with her.” I cut her off with a wave and went back to my office. This company had been founded by the two of us, but in reality, I was the one funding it and keeping it afloat. I had always been the one working tirelessly to understand customer needs and secure deals, and back then, I hadn’t thought much of it. But now, thinking it through, I had been shielding Daphne from the storm while she stayed cozy managing internal affairs. She had it too easy. Not long after, Daphne called me, her tone filled with fury. “How dare you fire me from the company? This is my hard work too! “I’ll pretend your talk of divorce never happened. But if you keep pushing, I won’t hold back!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. She still thought I was just bluffing to get her to come home. “When I say divorce, I mean it. You’ve done nothing for this company. You didn’t even show up at the most critical meeting. Be glad I’m not suing you for damages. “The divorce agreement is only valid until today. If you don’t sign and send it back by tonight, I’ll file a lawsuit tomorrow.” With that, the line went silent. Perhaps she felt humiliated after having her attempt to reconcile rejected. I didn’t bother guessing what was on her mind and hung up. After work, I returned home to find a table of steaming hot dishes laid out. In the kitchen, Daphne, whom I hadn’t seen in days, was busy cooking with an apron. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what new trick she was playing. After all, in all these years, I had been the one doing all the housework. “You’re back. Let’s eat,” she said as she approached me and took my hand. “I know I messed up. You’re right to be angry, but you don’t have to bring up divorce so lightly. I promise, I’ll never put Matt before you again. Please forgive me this one last time, okay?” Daphne’s pitiful expression and softened voice would have melted anyone’s heart. But I calmly pulled my hand away. “If apologies were enough, who’s going to make up for the company’s losses? You don’t need to try so hard to make it up. I’ve already made up my mind—there’s no going back.”

“Jerry Harrison! What do you mean by that? If you keep this up, I’m really going to get angry.” Having her first attempt at reconciliation rejected, Daphne’s face darkened. I had completely run out of patience and decided to lay everything on the table. “Do you think I don’t know what disgusting things you and Matt did in the car? I’ve been trying to leave you some dignity. Are you forcing me to spell it all out?” She was my first love, someone I had genuinely loved for five years. Even now, despite her infidelity, I wanted a peaceful breakup. But Daphne showed no remorse. Instead, she flew into a rage upon hearing my words, grabbing the freshly prepared dishes on the table and smashing them to the ground. “So, divorce, huh? Fine! Let’s get divorced! Just don’t come crying back to me later and beg for my forgiveness!” I calmly pulled her hand and said, “This house is mine. You may not care about it, but I do. Since you’ve made up your mind, sign the papers, take your things, and leave.” Daphne glared at me, panting with rage. After signing the divorce agreement, she immediately called Matt. “Come pick me up. I’m divorcing Jerry. He’s making me pack my things and leave.” Standing nearby, I couldn’t help but sneered. The way Daphne phrased it sounded as if I was the one betraying her. Thankfully, she signed the agreement in the end, and I was finally free. After five years together, this marriage had left me utterly drained. When Daphne finished packing and stood at the door, she realized that most of what she had taken was clothes—almost the entire house was filled with her belongings. Meanwhile, my belongings were sparse. One of my shirts, in fact, had been wearing for five or six years. For a moment, she lowered her head without saying a word, and a complicated look flashed across her eyes. “Daphie! I’m here! He didn’t hurt you, did he?” When Matt arrived in a rush, I was already seated on the couch eating takeout. Hearing the commotion outside, I put on my headphones. But Matt seemed intent on humiliating me. He raised his voice to ensure I could hear him. “If I’d known he was like this, I never would have stepped aside for him back then. “Come on, man. It’s just a house. You just kicked her out after the divorce? Are you even a man?” Hearing the noise, neighbors came out to watch and gossiped among themselves. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I walked out and punched Matt directly in the face. “When you were cheating with her, were you even a man? You got her pregnant and still have the audacity to judge me?” For a moment, Daphne stared at me in disbelief, her lips trembling uncontrollably. “What nonsense are you spouting? Matt, let’s go.” She hadn’t expected me to find out about her pregnancy, let alone expose it so bluntly in public. Her face turned pale, and all she could think about was fleeing the scene. I didn’t stop her but turned to the property manager to instruct them to remove Daphne’s facial recognition data. From now on, she would no longer be allowed to enter the building. “We can finalize the divorce next week at the Courthouse. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.” I sent her this message before shutting off my phone and resuming my dinner. I thought that when the day came, I would feel a void in my heart. But to my surprise, I felt nothing but relief.

Over the next few days, I was busy with work. I ran around and finally secured an investor. “Mr. Harrison, let’s sign the contract,” the investor said. Just as we were about to finalize everything, his assistant rushed in with a grim expression, handing him something to look at. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison, but we’ll have to put this collaboration on hold for now,” the investor said after a glance before turning and walking away. I stood there, stunned, not understanding what had just happened. It wasn’t until I saw the trending video online that I realized I had been set up. The footage showed me angrily confronting Daphne and Matt, but it had been edited to look like I was the villain. Matt, being a content creator, had set up a camera in his car the day he came to pick Daphne up. He edited the footage, cutting it to make me look unhinged, and uploaded it with the caption: [Picking up my best friend after she was kicked out by her scumbag ex. That scumbag deserves the worst.] Matt’s usual persona online was that of a feminist ally, and the fabricated story quickly garnered tens of thousands of likes. Fuming, I called Daphne. “Defamation is a crime. How dare you slander me like this?” But Daphne remained indifferent. “Then go ahead and sue us. Let’s see if the police take your side. The public is on our side now. What are you going to do about it?”

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Chapter One My husband casually sprinkled a handful of green onions into my soup, and that’s when I decided to ask for a divorce. His chopsticks froze mid-air, his expression baffled. “What? Why?” I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat, lowering my gaze as I scrolled through his secretary’s Instagram. “Offhandedly, she mentions a craving, and you personally fly to D.C. to consult with a pastry chef about the perfect flavor for her dessert.” I locked my phone screen and began picking the green onions out of the soup, my movements deliberate and irritated. “We dated for two years, married for three, and you still don’t remember—I don’t eat green onions.” Years later, when my daughter was already two, he was still asking around, trying to find out where I’d gone. He frowned, slamming his chopsticks onto the table with a sharp crack. “Stop being so dramatic. You’ve never made a fuss about green onions before.” Some things, if you repeat them too many times, just lose their meaning. Over time, you stop fighting and start compromising. But that day, I realized I was done. I was done with retreating. Done with compromising. Done with a life that felt smaller and smaller with every concession. I didn’t argue. I just grabbed my bag and stood up to leave. His face darkened, and he grabbed my wrist in frustration, his grip firm enough to knock over the soup bowl sitting precariously on the edge of the table. The scalding liquid splashed directly onto the back of my hand, the burn so sudden and intense I didn’t even have time to cry out. But instead of concern, he crossed his arms and glared at me like I was the one who had ruined dinner. “Why do you always have to make a scene?” he snapped. Before I could respond, a sharp-eyed waitress rushed over, gently pulling me away. She guided me to the back, where she ran cool water over my red and swollen skin. Then, carefully, she applied burn ointment to the affected area. The icy coolness of the ointment seeped into my skin and, strangely, deep into my chest. She hesitated, as if debating whether to say something. Finally, she couldn’t hold back and asked in a low voice, “That guy just now… was he your husband or boyfriend?” My gaze turned cold, and I shook my head lightly. “Neither.” “Good,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Because no decent man would just stand there watching while his woman gets hurt, let alone blame her for it afterward.” Her words broke through a fog I hadn’t realized I’d been living in. For years, I had buried myself in the dust, bending over backward to please a man who never truly saw me. In doing so, I had lost sight of myself. Later, Gavin stood by the door, his fingers flying over his phone, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But as soon as he noticed me approaching, his expression shifted. The smile vanished, replaced by that all-too-familiar look of annoyance. It was the same look he always gave me, the one that said he was waiting for me to apologize first. I ignored him completely, walking past him as I opened an app on my phone and scheduled an appointment with a burn specialist at the nearest hospital. He caught up to me, his pace hurried. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes flicked to my phone screen and saw the appointment confirmation. His expression wavered, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes. “I… I’ll drive you,” he offered, his tone awkward. Before I could object, he pressed his hand on my shoulder and ushered me into the car. He leaned over to fasten my seatbelt, and the cloying scent of his cologne—or was it perfume?—wafted over me. The smell made my stomach churn violently. I pushed him away, gagging, my face flushed red as I fought the urge to vomit. He frowned, his voice tinged with concern. “Did you eat something bad? Don’t worry, we’ll get to the hospital soon.” As the car started, a piercing ringtone shattered the silence. Gavin glanced at the screen, hesitated for a moment, and then declined the call. But whoever was on the other end was persistent, calling again and again, the ringtone shrill and insistent in the cramped space of the car. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to ease the headache building behind my eyes. “Answer it.” He shot me a quick, conflicted look before slipping on his Bluetooth headset and answering in a low voice. The conversation was short, but his tone was careful, almost nervous. When he hung up, he pulled the car over to the curb and turned to me with an apologetic expression. “The hospital is just up ahead. Can you go in by yourself? I… I can’t keep driving forward from here.” I glanced at him, unimpressed. “Sure.” He blinked, surprised by my curt response. “You’re not going to ask where I’m going?” I unbuckled my seatbelt, my movements slow and deliberate. “Why would I care? Where you go has nothing to do with me.” Chapter Two The doctor sternly reminded me to come back every three days to change the bandages. “The burn covers a large area,” he warned. “If the wound isn’t properly cared for, it could get infected. And if that happens, we’ll have to remove the dead tissue and start the healing process all over again. Trust me, you don’t want that.” He also advised me to avoid spicy or irritating foods while I healed. Pulling out my phone, I opened the notes app to jot down his instructions. As I finished typing, a notification popped up—a new post from Hannah. “The mosquitoes in the garden are driving me crazy. Thank goodness someone brought me some herbal cream just in time,” she captioned. The photo showed her lounging on a couch, her long, pale legs draped across Gavin’s lap. He was leaning over, his expression gentle and focused as he applied the cream to her skin. My chest tightened, and without warning, warm tears spilled onto the back of my hand. The doctor’s previously firm tone softened slightly. “Make sure to protect the wound,” he said quietly. “If it gets worse, cleaning out the infected tissue will hurt like hell. You’ll regret it later.” I forced a small, polite smile, picked up my medication, and walked out of the hospital. The streets were eerily quiet in the early hours of the morning. The cold white glow of the streetlights felt harsh against the shadows. The burning on the back of my hand was growing worse with every step. Meanwhile, the man responsible for it was somewhere else, wrapped up in warmth and affection that wasn’t mine. Anger and humiliation boiled over, and before I could stop myself, I dialed Gavin’s number. He declined the call immediately. I tried again. Declined again. After several rounds of silent back-and-forth, he finally answered, his voice low and laced with irritation. “What now? What are you freaking out about this time?” I tilted my head back to look at the full moon hanging in the cold night sky. My voice was calm, detached. “Come pick me up. I’m at the hospital.” “Are you serious?” A woman’s soft laugh rang faintly in the background, followed by the sharp, mocking sound of a call being cut off. The cold autumn wind bit through my thin coat, and I clutched it tighter around myself as my vision blurred. For a moment, I was no longer standing in the middle of an empty street. I was eighteen again, sitting on a swing next to my best friend. She had been crying, her voice trembling with frustration as she vented about her boyfriend’s lack of boundaries with other girls—and how he never took her concerns seriously, no matter how desperately she tried to get through to him. I had leaned back on the swing, letting the golden sunlight of a summer afternoon filter through the leaves above us. My voice had been soft but firm as I said, “If someone ever takes my love for granted, I’ll walk away without a second thought. No regrets.” A cold gust of wind snapped me back to reality. I sighed, my breath visible in the frigid air. Sorry, eighteen-year-old Stella. Thirty-year-old me has let you down. My phone was open to a text message draft. The divorce papers were already attached, ready to be sent. But my thumb hovered over the send button, unable to press it. Suddenly, a tall, familiar figure stepped into the glow of the streetlight, blocking its harsh brightness. I looked up instinctively. Gavin stood there, his face partially obscured by the shadows, but I could still make out the features I had once found so comforting. For a fleeting moment, he reminded me of the boy who had once treated me like his whole world. But then my gaze shifted to his rumpled shirt, the mismatched buttons, and the faint lipstick smudge on his collar. Whatever fragile hope I had left shattered into dust. My hands clenched into fists, my body cold and stiff. “Let’s go home. What are you just standing there for?” Gavin grabbed my wrist, his tone impatient as he tried to pull me along. When I caught sight of the faint red marks on his neck, the anger I had been trying to suppress erupted all at once. I yanked my hand from his grip, my breathing ragged as I stared at him. I wanted to scream, to demand answers, to ask him how he could betray me so blatantly and still act like I was the one causing trouble. But all the words I wanted to say got caught in my throat. “What now?” he snapped, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I came all the way here to pick you up, and now you’re acting up again?” His audacity was almost laughable. How could he cheat so openly and still have the nerve to question me? The words “I want a divorce” pounded in my head, over and over, louder and louder. I was just about to say it when the passenger door of his car suddenly swung open. Chapter Three A pair of long, pale legs stepped out of the car. Hannah, sitting in the passenger seat, leaned her head out with a bright smile. “Stella, come on, get in! It’s freezing out here.” Something inside me seemed to shatter with a deafening crash. My fingers tingled as numbness spread through them. Slowly, I turned my head to look at Gavin. His expression flickered with a trace of panic, but he quickly regained his composure. “I was just giving her a ride home. It’s on the way.” Hannah chimed in cheerfully, picking up the thread of his excuse. “Oh, Gavin’s the best! Ever since he found out how hard it is to get a ride from my place in the suburbs, he’s been picking me up and dropping me off for months now.” She glanced shyly at Gavin, as if suddenly realizing how intimate her words sounded. The “suburbs” she mentioned were on the far east side of town—12 kilometers from our house. If traffic was heavy during rush hour, the trip could take nearly 50 minutes out of the way. So, this was his idea of “on the way.” This was what he’d been doing during all those early mornings and late nights. This was the real reason he had refused me so many times when I’d asked him for a ride. Like that one time when I was doubled over in pain from menstrual cramps, struggling to deliver samples to a demanding client who’d called me a dozen times. He’d grabbed his keys and stormed out, tossing over his shoulder, “This family doesn’t rely on your paycheck anyway.” Or the night it poured rain, and I stood shivering at the subway entrance, feverish and soaked, staring helplessly at the flooded streets. He wasn’t there for me that night either. No, he was probably driving Hannah home, laughing and chatting with her about whatever trivial nonsense they found amusing. “Oops!” Hannah’s sudden squeal yanked me out of my thoughts. “What’s this? It poked my hand.” She reached into the side of her seat and pulled out a small, pink nameplate shaped like a paperclip. “‘Princess Piggy’s Seat,’” she read aloud, snorting with laughter. She held it up like it was some ridiculous trinket. “Who’s ‘Princess Piggy’? How childish.” My chest tightened. That nameplate—my nameplate—was something Gavin and I had bought together at a night market back in college. I could still remember the way the colorful lights of the market reflected in his eyes, making them sparkle like stars. He had pinned it to the seat with such care, smiling as he said, “From now on, this will always be Stella’s special seat.” It used to sit proudly in the most visible spot on the passenger seat. But at some point, he must have decided it was an eyesore and moved it to a hidden corner, out of sight. Yet here it was now, uncovered and exposed. “It’s all faded,” Hannah said dismissively, tossing it lightly from one hand to the other. “Gavin, I’ll buy you a new one next time.” As she said this, her gaze landed on me. Her eyes sparkled with thinly-veiled triumph, her words dripping with mockery. With a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed the nameplate out of the car. It spun in the air before landing in the muddy gutter on the side of the road, filthy and discarded. Gavin took a step forward instinctively, as if to retrieve it. But then he hesitated, freezing in place. He turned back toward me, his brows furrowed, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something. But no words came. “Stella, your bracelet is so pretty,” Hannah said suddenly, her eyes fixating on my wrist. The small crystal charms jingled softly as I shifted my arm. “The little bells on it are adorable.” Without a word, I let out a cold laugh, unhooking the bracelet from my wrist. I tossed it toward her with a casual flick of my hand. The bells clinked against each other as it landed in her lap. “If you like it, you can have it,” I said, my tone detached. “I’m tired of wearing it anyway.” The bracelet wasn’t just any piece of jewelry. It was something Gavin had bought for me when he was just 17, working a grueling summer job. Back then, he had accidentally fractured his hand while working, and his boss had offered him compensation. Instead of going to the hospital right away, he’d gone straight to the mall, rushing to buy me this bracelet—the one I’d admired in the store window so many times. “Stella, close your eyes,” he’d said breathlessly, his face flushed and damp with sweat. He must have sprinted all the way to find me. When I opened my eyes, the bracelet was already on my wrist. “Stella,” he’d said, his voice trembling with emotion, “I swear I’ll treat you like a princess for the rest of my life.” Chapter Four Promises only hold weight when love is still alive. Gavin’s expression darkened instantly, fury flashing in his eyes. He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist tightly. “Stella, what the hell do you mean by this? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten—” My gaze was ice-cold as I pried his pale, clenched fingers off my wrist one by one. Each movement felt like driving a knife deeper into my chest. “I did,” I said slowly, each word deliberate. “I forgot.” Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked away. Even as I got farther and farther, I could feel his burning stare on my back. When I hailed a cab, he ran toward me, his expression frantic and desperate. “It’s not safe for you to take a cab this late. Let me drive you home,” he said, his voice unsteady. I didn’t respond. The only sound he got in return was the slam of the car door as I shut it in his face. Through the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of him standing frozen on the sidewalk, watching as the cab pulled away. I whispered to myself, “I don’t need you anymore.” Scrolling through my contacts, I hesitated for a moment before dialing Aria. Aria had moved to New Zealand after her messy breakup, eventually starting her own immigration consultancy. When I first began to notice Gavin acting differently, I’d called her late at night, my voice breaking as I tried to keep my tears in check. “Why?” I had asked her, over and over again. She had stayed silent for a long time before finally asking, “Do you remember what you said on the swings all those years ago?” Now, gripping my phone, I took a deep breath and said, “I’ve made up my mind. I’m coming to see you tomorrow.” I could hear the excitement in her voice, barely concealed. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for this. When I bought this little house, I made sure to save you a room.” After we hung up, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. I rolled the window down, letting in the crisp night air. The faint scent of gardenias drifted in, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of freedom. Stella, you’re free again. Gavin arrived home almost at the same time I did. It seemed like, for once, he hadn’t taken the long way around. He grabbed my wrist again, his eyes slightly red, his voice hoarse. “Stella, my stomach hurts.” This was his usual tactic—playing weak. It was almost laughable. Giving me the chance to take care of him was his way of offering me a way to mend things. Normally, I’d have rushed to find the first-aid kit or headed straight to the kitchen to make him something warm to eat. But this time, I didn’t even spare him a glance. “Hmm,” I muttered indifferently before heading to the guest room. A few minutes later, I heard him knocking on the door. He waited for what felt like forever, but when no response came, the sound eventually stopped. The next morning, he intercepted me before I could leave. His tone was oddly gentle, almost coaxing. “Come with me today. It’s my mom’s birthday. Let’s go together, okay?” His family had never liked me. To them, I was nothing more than an orphan with no background—a woman completely unworthy of the heir to a billion-dollar company. Before and after the wedding, I was excluded from every family gathering. At first, I envied the warmth of their family dinners and begged Gavin to help smooth things over. But he had only glanced at his watch, his expression indifferent, and said, “You’ve been on your own your whole life. Why bother trying to fit in with a family now? It’s unnecessary.” Remembering those words, I let out a bitter laugh and brushed his hand off me. “I’m busy.” His face darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. He slammed his fist into the wall beside him. “Stella, enough already,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve put up with since last night? Fine, you’re busy. Just make sure you keep that same energy. Don’t come crawling back to me like a pathetic dog later.” He shot me a furious glare, shoved past me, and stormed out the door. Moments later, I heard the roar of his car as he sped away. Unbothered, I called for a ride to the airport. As I sat in the terminal waiting for my flight, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. The notifications were coming from the Rhodes family group chat. Someone had posted pictures of Gavin at the birthday party. Hannah was wearing a stunning designer gown and had her arm linked tightly through his. She smiled demurely at the camera, her cheeks flushed, leaning close to whisper something in his ear. The Rhodes family members, who had never accepted me, were practically falling over themselves in the chat. “Now this is the kind of woman the Rhodes family needs—classy and elegant.” “Gavin’s date tonight is stunning. I wish she were my sister-in-law already!” I smirked, amused by the audacity. Calmly, I uploaded a PDF of the finalized divorce agreement to the group chat. Then, I added a message: “Consider this my wedding gift. And here’s $20 for the party.” I left the group chat before they could even react. Then, I turned off my phone. The flight to New Zealand was direct. When I landed and turned my phone back on, it vibrated so violently in my hand that I almost dropped it. Hundreds of missed calls from Gavin. Text after text filled my screen: “Stella, you’ve got it all wrong.” “Stella, please don’t ignore me. Let me explain.” “Stella, where are you? I’m coming to get you. Just wait for me.”

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During college, I broke the heart of the richest, most sought-after heiress around. Three years later, my apartment’s pipes burst in the middle of the night, so I crashed at my friend’s place. In the dark, I stumbled into the guest bedroom, only to end up lying next to her. She smirked with a wicked grin, “What’s this? Rekindle an old affair?” Panic hit me like a freight train, and I tried to bolt, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “What’s wrong? You think you can just leave after showing up?” In my dream, there was warmth in my arms, soft and sweet. Just as my heart began to race and I was about to make my move, a sharp pain jolted through my ear. I shot awake, only to be met with the very pair of bright eyes that had haunted my dreams for years. Below them, her lips moved, teasing and cold. “Elias, it’s been so long, and now you sneak into my room? What’s this? Rekindle an old affair?” Panicked, I pulled my ear free and jumped out of bed, my face a kaleidoscope of red and pale. It was Cassandra Brooks, my ex-girlfriend. What the hell was I doing in bed with her? Her long hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and she wore nothing but a thin, nearly transparent camisole. Her curves were impossible to ignore. I stammered, “Why… why are you here?” “I should be asking you that.” Guilt weighed me down as I tried to make a quick escape, but she grabbed my wrist, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s wrong? You think you can just leave after showing up?” How the hell was I supposed to know that after my apartment’s pipes burst, crashing at my buddy’s place in the middle of the night would land me in bed next to her? The commotion must have woken the owner of the house. Logan Bennett shuffled toward us in his pajamas, his voice cutting through the hallway before he even stepped in. “What the hell are you yelling about in the middle of the night?” When he finally saw me, his eyes went wide with disbelief. “Holy shit! What are you doing here?” I let out a helpless laugh. “My pipes burst, so I came to crash here.” Logan pulled me aside, his expression shifting into one of exaggerated amusement. “She’s my cousin. Don’t tell me… you two just spent the night together?” I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Of all the people in the world, Cassandra Brooks was the last person I wanted to see. She was the girl I had once loved with all my heart, but fate had never been on our side.

Back in college, Cassandra was the untouchable goddess of our school. The first time I saw her at a club event, it was love at first sight. I heard she was a rich girl, one of those people who had their heads in the clouds and their feet nowhere near the ground. But then, one day, fate gave me a chance. She sprained her ankle in the locker room and hobbled out, her face pale and slick with sweat. I happened to walk by, and without a second thought, I scooped her up and carried her to the infirmary. From that day on, we became friends. I soon discovered that behind her aloof exterior, she was surprisingly down-to-earth. She had a habit of forgetting things, always losing track of her belongings. She would text me constantly, asking me to pick up this or bring her that. “You’re the most attentive guy in the world,” she once told me. “You know all my favorite things and always cheer me up. Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend? You seem way too experienced for this.” I laughed. “Nope. You’re the first.” Her eyes sparkled as she reached out and held my hand for the first time. As we spent more time together, I realized why people called her a goddess. It wasn’t just her beauty. She was the queen of her elite social circle, effortlessly charming, and always in control. But she confided in me, saying she hated the pretentiousness of her world and found my simplicity refreshing. It made me happy. I introduced her to the joys of a more grounded life. Whenever I earned a little extra money from helping my professor with research, I would take her out to eat at food stalls and hole-in-the-wall diners. Sometimes, she would offer to pay, but I always refused. “Paying the bill is a man’s responsibility,” I told her. I couldn’t give her the luxurious life she was used to, but I gave her everything I could. Those days felt like heaven. But our love was fragile. Ordinary. The kind of love that couldn’t withstand a storm.

One day, Adrian Cross, a guy from another department, showed up out of nowhere. “I’m Cassandra’s fiancé,” he said. “Stay away from her.” I stared at him in shock. “She’s never told me she’s engaged.” “It’s an arrangement between our families. You think you can be her boyfriend? What can you offer her? Drag her down?” I didn’t believe him, and we argued. He smirked arrogantly. “Let me show you her world.” He had me disguise myself, and then he took me to a lavish villa. There she was, perfectly poised with immaculate makeup, her hair swept up elegantly. She wore a custom gown that highlighted her beauty, moving through the crowd like royalty. She was the hostess, exuding grace and confidence as she charmed every guest. Adrian turned to me with a sneer. “Look at her. She’s a queen, and you’re nothing but a nobody. She doesn’t need a guy who takes her to street food stalls. She needs someone who can stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder.” I glanced down at my sneakers and jeans, feeling completely out of place. But I clenched my jaw and said, “She likes me just the way I am.” Adrian laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. “Sure. She likes a lot of guys like you. Check her phone if you don’t believe me. The contacts in her phone are categorized. Our circle is one group, and you… you’re in another.” The next day, I couldn’t resist. When Cassandra left to use the restroom, I took a peek at her phone. Sure enough, I found myself listed as a code and a number, grouped with several others. When she returned, I asked her directly. “Am I boring you?” She blinked in surprise. “Boring? No way. I love spending time with you. You make me feel relaxed. I don’t have to pretend around you.” “Do you feel that way about anyone else?” She tilted her head, considering. “Well, there are a few others, I guess.” My heart sank. “And in your future, is there a place for me?” “Of course,” she said with a teasing smile. “You’ll come to work with me at my family’s company. There’s this trendy term now, ‘live-in son-in-law.’ What do you think?” She looked at me playfully as if it were all a harmless joke. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to stand as her equal. One night, after we finished a movie, something inside me gave out. “Let’s break up,” I said. Her eyes widened in disbelief, but her pride quickly took over. “Fine. But don’t come crawling back later.” She texted me after that, but I blocked her. And just like that, three years passed. I heard she moved abroad.

Logan’s jaw practically hit the floor. “So, you and Cassandra, huh? No wonder she was so down for a while back then. She wouldn’t talk to anyone, just locked herself in her room for weeks.” I couldn’t imagine her being sad over me. Her phone had listed seven or eight people in the same group as me, each with their own impersonal code. I was just one of many. “Getting dumped always stings. That’s nothing new,” I muttered, brushing it off. The next day, I had to go to work and figure out who could fix my apartment’s busted pipes. In the morning, I left quickly, not wanting to cross paths with her again. I worked as a project manager at an IT company, and we had a major meeting scheduled with a corporate client. When my team and I arrived at the client’s headquarters, the person greeting us was none other than Cassandra. My scalp tingled, and I fought the urge to bolt. There was no escaping this. “The timeline for this project is tight,” she said, her tone cool but professional. “The workload is heavy, and many of the deliverables will require in-person meetings with me.” I nodded. “We’ve secured the bid, so we’ll give it our all.” She turned her gaze directly on me. “Elias, could you step into my office? I’d like to discuss some details privately.” I followed her, trying to steady my nerves. Her office was sleek and modern, with a stark elegance that didn’t quite match the soft, gentle image I remembered. The tailored suit she wore, though, fit her perfectly, accentuating her poise and commanding presence. We went over the project specifics, and I responded to each point. Then she asked a question out of nowhere. “With such a demanding project, won’t your girlfriend mind you working late nights?” I shook my head, unsure why she cared. And then, for reasons I couldn’t explain, I blurted out, “Will your boyfriend mind you pulling late nights with us?” She leaned back in her chair, speaking slowly. “My boyfriend? He’s temperamental, a bit spoiled.” The words stung. I figured she meant Adrian, and the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Then maybe you shouldn’t stay too late,” I said awkwardly. “We can update you on any issues in the morning.” She didn’t reply, just stared at me for a moment before getting up and sitting down next to me.

I scooted away, trying to keep my distance. She reached out and grabbed my sleeve. “Why did you block me? If we can’t be lovers, can’t we at least be friends?” Her words twisted something inside me. Did she really think I had a choice? She leaned in closer, her breath brushing against my face, carrying a faint, familiar fragrance. ” Elias, I…” Cassandra started, but before she could finish, a knock on the door interrupted us. Adrian walked in and said, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had a guest.” He stopped abruptly when he saw me. Then he turned to me, his eyes narrowing. “Well, well, if it isn’t Elias. Long time no see. I hear you’re a project manager now. Congrats.” The sight of him dredged up old memories, filling my chest with a sour jealousy that I struggled to suppress. He strolled over to Cassandra and casually slipped an arm around her waist. “What do you feel like eating tonight?” he asked her, his tone intimate. “I’ve already made reservations.” Then he glanced at me, smirking. “Care to join us?” I stood abruptly, gathering my things. “Thanks, but I already have plans. My girlfriend’s waiting for me.” I nodded stiffly. “Excuse me.” Cassandra froze, her expression unreadable, as I walked out under Adrian’s mocking gaze. My chest felt tight, and my long-buried emotions shattered into pieces. The girlfriend I mentioned wasn’t real. I was referring to Elena West, a former classmate who had pursued me relentlessly during college. Back then, I had rejected her. Years later, we reconnected when her family’s company partnered with ours on a project. During those months, she had organized countless dinners under the guise of client relations, always trying to get me drunk. Her predatory gaze made me uneasy, and I instinctively kept my distance. But at that moment, I needed her name as a shield.

I hadn’t expected this project to be with Brooks Enterprises or that Cassandra would now be running the company. I did everything I could to avoid her. Unless she explicitly summoned me, I stayed away. Even when she called for me, I always brought a colleague along to share the responsibility of presenting updates. I noticed Adrian in her office several times. He was relaxed, at home there. Sometimes, even during serious project discussions, Adrian would linger, casually listening or throwing in the occasional comment. The company rumor mill painted the two of them as a power couple, their relationship practically common knowledge. One night, when everyone else had left, I stayed behind, stuck debugging a particularly stubborn section of code. I was so absorbed in my work that I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. A hand appeared in my peripheral vision, holding a cup of coffee. Startled, I turned too quickly and accidentally knocked the cup over, spilling its contents all over Cassandra. Panicking, I grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the stain. But the moment my hand brushed against her, I froze. The fabric was thin, and beneath it, the sensation was soft and warm. Realizing what I was doing, I yanked my hand away and stood stiffly to the side, waiting for her inevitable reprimand. Cassandra sighed, “Go buy me something to change into.” I dashed downstairs to a 24-hour convenience store and bought her a blouse and a pair of pants. After a moment’s hesitation, I also picked up a set of undergarments. I had noticed the coffee had soaked through. When I handed her the bag, she stepped closer, pinning me against the desk. “You still remember my size?” she asked, her voice low and teasing. “Haven’t you noticed how I’ve changed over the years?” I turned my face away, my thoughts in chaos. “You’ve kept in great shape,” I mumbled. “But I did buy the top a size bigger.” When she emerged after changing, she looked like the girl I used to know, the one who had shared street food with me on warm college nights. She opened her mouth to say something, but my phone buzzed with a call that couldn’t wait. I answered quickly. “Yeah, I’m on my way.” I turned to her, holding up my phone apologetically. “I’ve got an emergency at home. Gotta run. See you.” Without waiting for her response, I grabbed my things and bolted out the door. The call was from my neighbor. Apparently, the repair on my pipes hadn’t worked, and water had leaked into his apartment. I had no choice but to return home shut off the water supply entirely, and accept the harsh reality. Just as the repairman had warned, it might be time for a full renovation. Once again, I turned to my buddy Logan for help. “You can crash at my place. I’ll be out on business trips all week,” he said. I hesitated for a moment before asking, “Cassandra isn’t staying there, is she?”

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At the company gala, my fiancée clung to her first love—the so-called “golden boy” of her past—and smugly demanded I step aside. “Starting today, all your client accounts will be transferred to him,” she announced with a condescending smile. “And as for you, there’s an opening in the janitorial department. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” The room fell silent. All eyes were on me, waiting for the inevitable—me groveling, begging her to reconsider, swallowing my pride for her sake. But what they didn’t realize was this: without me, those clients would vanish overnight, and the company? It would crumble within weeks. I let out a cold, detached laugh and turned on my heel, walking away without a word. By the end of the night, I’d already signed with her biggest rival—the one person she hated the most. You see, I’m not satisfied with just watching her company fail. I’m here to destroy everything she thought she could take from me. For five years, Chloe Hill and I had built something together—both a company and what I thought was a relationship. She always said, “Once the company is stable, we’ll get married.” I believed her. So I worked like a madman, day and night, entertaining clients, closing deals, and doing everything in my power to build the life she wanted. The life we wanted. And it worked. The company grew steadily, year after year. With our largest shipment yet arriving soon, I was already planning how to propose. Tonight was supposed to be the company’s celebration party. Chloe had smiled at me that morning, tying my tie with her usual grace. “Don’t forget to come back early for the party,” she said, her voice soft and full of warmth. I promised I would. But when the shipment arrived late, I had no choice but to go handle it myself. This was the biggest deal our company had ever secured, and I couldn’t afford even the smallest mistake. For two weeks, I’d barely left the office, sleeping on the couch, eating cheap takeout, and working myself to the bone to make sure this deal went smoothly. By the time I finished, it was nearly 10 PM. Exhausted but eager to see Chloe, I drove straight to the hotel where the celebration was being held. But as I approached the door to the private room, laughter and voices drifted out, freezing me in my tracks. “You mean Daniel Brooks?” Chloe’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, followed by a laugh that made my stomach turn. “Marry him? Are you serious? What a joke.” My hand hovered over the doorknob, my entire body going cold. “He’s just a pathetic loser who works himself to death for me,” she sneered. “I only keep him around to do the grunt work.” Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. “All he does is drink and schmooze with clients. No romance, no charm. He’s nothing like my baby—someone who actually knows how to treat me.” A man’s voice broke in, low and suggestive. “Come here, babe. Let hubby take care of you.” Then came the unmistakable sound of kissing. My mind went blank. That voice—it was Jacob Scott, the new assistant Chloe had recently hired. She’d told me he was an old college friend and insisted he’d be a great addition to the team. I’d trusted her. Jacob had been nothing but polite to me, always staying late at the office, bringing her coffee, and helping with her workload. I’d even praised him for his diligence. But now, it was all clear. He wasn’t staying late to work—he was staying late to be with her. These two had been sneaking around right under my nose. “You’re the only one I trust with the clients,” Chloe purred, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Now that the company is big enough, there’s no need to keep him around anymore.” Jacob hesitated. “What if he takes the clients with him?” Chloe laughed dismissively. “This is my company. He’s just an employee. If he tries to leave, I’ll make sure he never works in this industry again. What does he think, that the company can’t survive without him?” The sound of glasses clinking and laughter filled the room. “Ms. Hill and Jacob are such a great match,” someone chimed in, their voice full of fake enthusiasm. “Daniel’s just some desperate loser—he should be grateful to step aside.” Another voice added, “Honestly, Jacob’s the real deal. That guy? He’s just a placeholder.” Jacob chuckled, and I heard him say, “This seat was always mine. Just like Chloe has always been mine.” Chloe giggled, her voice dripping with flirtation. “Oh, stop. You know I’ve always been yours. Even back in college…” Her words trailed off into playful laughter, and my blood boiled. I stood frozen, my mind replaying the last six months. Chloe had been “traveling for business” more often than ever, always coming home smelling of a different perfume. On the nights she stayed in, she was distant, always claiming she was tired. And the times she was affectionate? Now I wondered how much of that was just her scrubbing away the scent of another man. Every tender word, every night spent together—it all felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I wasn’t Chloe’s boyfriend. I was her workhorse, her stepping stone, her fool. Inside, Chloe’s voice turned sweet again, but it wasn’t for me. “Jacob, you’re the only one who knows how to treat me right.” My stomach churned. So she could act playful and vulnerable—just not for me. For me, she’d always played the strong, independent businesswoman. Five years. Five years of my life wasted on a woman who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. For a moment, I thought about walking away, but something inside me snapped. I wouldn’t let her get away with this. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. The laughter stopped immediately.

Chloe was wearing a backless gown tonight, and Jacob’s hand was resting on her bare back, sliding up and down. The two of them stood so close, their faces practically touching, exuding a level of intimacy that made me want to vomit. When Chloe saw me, her expression flickered with annoyance, but she quickly regained her composure, slipping back into her usual air of superiority. “Oh, you’re here? Why didn’t you call to let me know?” she asked, pushing Jacob aside and smoothing her dress with feigned elegance. “Sorry,” I replied coldly, my eyes fixed on the red marks on her neck. “I was in a rush and forgot.” She glanced at me with thinly veiled contempt. “Why are you so late? Seriously, you spent all night dealing with one shipment? What’s wrong with you lately?” I let out a bitter laugh and replied with an icy tone, “Yeah, good thing I didn’t come back later—otherwise, I might’ve caught you two in a hotel room.” Chloe’s face froze, her expression darkening in an instant. “What are you implying?” she snapped. “Jacob and I are just friends. Don’t you dare make baseless accusations!” “Just friends?” I said, my gaze dropping to her swollen lips. “Then what, exactly, is his hand doing? Just being friendly?” Her voice rose sharply, clearly rattled. “Daniel, don’t push your luck! We’re not even married. Who I spend time with is none of your business!” “Funny,” I said, my voice low and cutting. “I thought we were building a life together. Guess I was wrong.” At this point, Jacob decided to insert himself into the conversation, stepping forward like some kind of knight in shining armor. “Daniel,” he said, puffing out his chest, “are you seriously questioning Chloe’s character right now? As her boyfriend, shouldn’t you trust her?” Looking at the two of them, smiling and backing each other up, I felt a wave of nausea rise in my chest. I clenched my jaw and said coldly, “Oh, so you do remember she’s my girlfriend, huh?” Chloe tilted her head, her expression smug. “If you’re so unhappy with me, then it’s perfect timing. I have an announcement to make.” She paused for dramatic effect, her voice dripping with mockery. “Starting today, Jacob will be taking over your responsibilities.” The room fell silent. Everyone’s eyes darted between us, waiting to see my reaction. “And you?” she continued, her tone casual but cruel. “You’ll handle the small accounts from now on. Unless, of course, you feel that’s beneath you. If so, the janitorial team could always use an extra hand.” I stared at her, my expression unreadable. The audacity of this woman. She had no idea how much I’d sacrificed to build her company. Every major client, every deal, every connection—I’d earned them through endless nights of drinking, networking, and suffering through grueling hangovers. I’d worked myself to the brink of collapse just to make this business successful. And now, she thought she could replace me with this clown? Did she really think any of those clients cared about her? Chloe raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself. “What, nothing to say? Feeling a little betrayed, maybe?” I watched as Jacob leaned down, planting smug little kisses on Chloe’s lips in front of the entire room. The other employees whispered among themselves, eager to see how I would react. Chloe probably thought I’d beg her to reconsider, that I’d grovel for my job and her affection. She thought she’d won. But what she didn’t realize was that without me, Hill Group would collapse like a house of cards. I shook my head and let out a dry laugh. If they wanted to play dirty, I’d show them how the game was really played. Reaching into my pocket, I felt the engagement ring box I’d been carrying for weeks. With a bitter smile, I tightened my grip on it and turned on my heel, walking away without a word. As I left, Chloe called out after me, her voice dripping with mockery. “What, leaving already? Don’t you want to talk about your new role?” I didn’t even look back. The moment I got into my car, I floored the gas pedal and headed straight to the office. There was no time to waste. Sitting at my desk, I opened my laptop and began contacting our clients. My fingers trembled with rage as I typed, my mind racing with plans to dismantle everything Chloe thought she had under control. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down, gulping down a bitter cup of coffee. Five years. Five years of loyalty, sacrifice, and love—and for what? At least now I knew the truth.

I spent the night at the office. Yesterday had been a whirlwind—I closed several major deals and contacted a long list of clients. By the time I was done, it was already past midnight. I stopped by my apartment to pack a few things before heading back to the office. That place wasn’t home anymore, and sleeping at my desk felt like the better option. “Daniel!” I was jolted awake by someone shaking me roughly. Groggy, I opened my eyes to find Chloe’s perfectly made-up face staring down at me. Her makeup was flawless, but the hickey on her neck was impossible to miss, even under the thick layer of concealer she’d used to try and hide it. Her movements were so aggressive that a few early-arriving coworkers were already sneaking glances in our direction. She slammed a crumpled piece of paper onto my desk, her face twisted with anger, though she forced a saccharine smile a second later. “Daniel, what is this?” she asked, her voice unnervingly sweet. “You moved out in the middle of the night? And now you’re handing me a resignation letter without even saying a word? What’s going on with you?” I glanced at the wrinkled resignation letter on the desk and let out a bitter laugh. “You’re asking me? Weren’t you the one who told me to leave?” Her expression wavered for a moment, but she quickly plastered on a fake look of concern. “I was just upset yesterday,” she said, softening her tone. “You shouldn’t have accused me of being inappropriate with someone else. Let’s talk about this calmly, okay?” She reached out to touch my face, the same tender gesture that used to melt my heart. But now, it only made my stomach churn. I turned my head away, dodging her hand. “Chloe, you can drop the act,” I said coldly. “After the little show you put on last night, don’t bother pretending to be innocent.” I shoved her hand aside. “We’re done.” Her face turned bright red, anger and humiliation flashing across her expression. “What nonsense are you spewing?” she hissed. Just then, the elevator doors opened. Jacob strolled out, followed by a few clients. Ah, so that’s why Chloe was suddenly putting on this performance. She wasn’t here to patch things up—she was here to squeeze every last bit of value out of me before I walked out the door for good. “Well, speak of the devil,” I said with a cold laugh, eyeing Jacob. “Chloe was just telling me how disappointed she is with your… performance.” The room fell into a heavy silence. Coworkers whispered among themselves, while the clients behind Jacob raised their eyebrows in interest. Jacob’s face turned crimson, but he forced a smile, trying to maintain his composure. “Mr. Brooks, please don’t joke like that… Ms. Hill and I have nothing but a professional relationship.” He was dressed to impress, wearing a tailored suit and enough hair gel to make his head shine under the fluorescent lights. He looked like he belonged in a cheap cologne ad, not in a boardroom. “Professional?” I smirked. “Didn’t sound so professional last night when you were bragging about your relationship at the party.” The office erupted into murmurs. “Everyone shut up!” Chloe snapped, her voice cutting through the chaos. She turned back to me, her face livid. “Daniel, I came here to talk things through, and you’re making a scene! I’m trying to be reasonable, but you’re being impossible!” “Reasonable?” I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Did you forget the things you said while you were draped all over Jacob last night? Should I remind you?” Jacob’s face went pale as he motioned for his assistant to guide the clients into a nearby conference room. “Daniel, Chloe is still your girlfriend,” Jacob said, his tone stiff. “You shouldn’t humiliate her like this.” Looking at the two of them standing side by side, their united front only made me feel colder inside. Chloe’s face twisted with rage as she pointed a finger at me. “You ungrateful bastard! I’m trying to help you, and this is how you repay me? Do you even have a shred of decency left?” Her voice was shrill, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust. The warmth she used to fake so well was completely gone. I let out a humorless laugh. “Careful, Jacob,” I said, locking eyes with him. “The same woman who’s throwing me aside today will do the same to you tomorrow. You’re just a placeholder, a temporary distraction.” “Daniel, you’re asking for it!” Chloe shrieked, her voice echoing through the office. She raised her hand to slap me, but I dodged in time. Her nails caught the side of my face, leaving a few shallow scratches. The sting was sharp, but I didn’t flinch. Missing her target only made her angrier. She lunged at me again, completely abandoning the polished image she’d always tried to maintain in front of others. Jacob quickly grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her to stop her from clawing at me again. “Chloe, calm down. Don’t let him get under your skin.” I brushed off my suit and stood, smirking at the two of them. “If I’m worthless, what does that make the two of you?” “Get out, Daniel!” Chloe screamed, her voice cracking. “You’re nothing but a parasite! Do you hear me? I’ll ruin you! I’ll make sure you never work again!” I adjusted my tie and straightened my jacket, taking my time before replying. “Chloe,” I said, my voice calm but cutting, “you really think your little company would’ve made it this far without me? Without the clients I brought in?” Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, her whole body trembling with rage. “You think I need you?” she spat. “Take a few clients if you want—I don’t care. Hill Group will be fine without you!” “Is that so?” I said with a cold smile. “We’ll see about that.” “You touch even one of my clients, and I’ll make sure you regret it!” I laughed, shaking my head. Chloe really thought she was untouchable. I turned and walked toward the elevator, ignoring her shrill screams behind me. “You’ll come crawling back, Daniel! You’ll beg me to take you back!” Without looking back, I raised a middle finger as the elevator doors slid shut. The sunlight outside was blinding, but I didn’t mind. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled to a familiar name in my contacts. It was time to call Mila Morgan. If Chloe wanted a war, I was more than ready to give her one.

At the coffee shop, Mila sat across from me, her every movement polished and deliberate. She held her coffee cup with the kind of grace that made it seem like an accessory, not a necessity. Her sharp, assessing gaze flicked to me every so often, as though she were measuring my worth. She’d been trying to recruit me for years. But I’d always turned her down—because of Chloe. “It’s a rare treat to finally get you here,” Mila said with a soft laugh, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness. “I thought you’d spend the rest of your life burning yourself out for Chloe.” I stirred the coffee in front of me, watching the ripples swirl as I answered flatly, “She kicked me out. The details are messy, and frankly, I don’t want to waste my energy explaining. Ask around—you’ll figure it out soon enough.” Mila’s company wasn’t just big—it was the biggest player in the industry locally. Everyone knew her family had money and connections, and if she wanted something, she usually got it. The fact that she’d reached out to me for this meeting was already making waves in our professional circles. “So,” she said casually, setting her cup down, “I take it you’re bringing Chloe’s clients with you in this… transition?” I smirked. “You’re sharp, Ms. Morgan. Yes, I’ve got over 80% of her major accounts in my pocket.” Mila chuckled at that, leaning back in her chair as though savoring my words. “Well, I imagine Chloe’s losing her mind right about now.” “She’s about a month away from crawling back to me,” I said with quiet confidence, lifting my coffee cup. “But by then, it’ll be too late. I’m not just taking her clients—I’m going to make sure she’s finished in this industry.” Mila’s eyes gleamed with interest at my boldness, a flicker of admiration crossing her expression. She rested her chin in her hand, studying me with a newfound curiosity. “You’re more decisive than I expected.” “I’ll make it worth your while,” she said, extending her hand with a polished smile. “I’ll give you a general manager position and triple your current salary. I like your style.” I shook her hand briefly but didn’t let her finish. “There’s one more thing I need from you.” Her perfectly shaped brow arched slightly. “Oh?” “When the time comes,” I said firmly, “I want you to help me expose Chloe and Jacob’s little ‘arrangement.’ Once the scandal hits, you can swoop in and buy her company for pennies on the dollar.” Mila’s lips curved into a slow smile. The idea clearly appealed to her. “Interesting,” she murmured, tapping a manicured finger against her chin. “You’re giving me a perfect opportunity to crush a competitor. But…” Her gaze turned thoughtful, almost mischievous. “How do you know I won’t do the same to you someday?” I met her eyes directly, my tone steady and unflinching. “Because I trust you.” The sunlight streaming through the window caught the angles of her face, highlighting her sharp features and the faintly satisfied look in her eyes. “Fair enough,” she said after a pause, raising her coffee cup toward me. “To a fruitful partnership.” I clinked my cup against hers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. If Chloe only knew what her betrayal had set in motion, I wondered if she’d still be lying in Jacob’s bed right now—or if she’d already be regretting every choice she’d made.

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After my breakup, I had a one-night stand with a stranger—his presence was terrifying. I couldn’t bear the thought of carrying the child of a monster. But then, everything changed when I uncovered an astonishing truth. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as I sat in the cold, white-walled office. My hands were clenched tightly on my lap, nails digging into my palms. The doctor walked in, her face soft, her smile almost too kind for what she was about to say. “Congratulations, Leila,” she began, her voice gentle. “You’re pregnant.” The words hit me like a thunderclap. My chest tightened, and the room felt suddenly smaller. Pregnant? No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this. The memory came crashing down like a tidal wave, sweeping the air from my lungs. George. He broke up with me. “It’s not you, Leila. It’s me. I just… I can’t do this anymore.” I could still see the cold resolve in his eyes, the finality in his tone. I grabbed my coat and stumbled out of my apartment, desperate for an escape. The streets blurred as I made my way to the nearest bar, my head spinning with anger and heartbreak. Inside, the dim lights cast shadows over the faces of strangers. I slid onto a barstool, slamming my purse down. “Whiskey. Straight,” I said, my voice trembling. The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured the drink without a word. I’m an orphan—no parents, no siblings, nothing. The one person I ever loved, truly loved, was George. But now… now I have no one. I downed the first glass, then another. Each burn in my throat felt like it might numb the ache in my chest. A man sitting nearby leaned over. “Rough night?” he asked, his voice smooth but tinged with curiosity. “Mind your own business,” I snapped, waving at the bartender for another drink. But he didn’t take the hint. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it.” I turned to him, my eyes blazing. “What do you know about it? Have you ever had your heart ripped out and stomped on?” He chuckled softly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fair point. Just thought you could use some company.” I didn’t answer. I just kept drinking, sinking deeper into the haze. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a strange bed. The light filtering through the curtains was blinding, and my head pounded like a drum. Panic shot through me as I looked around. A hotel room. “What the hell…”

I started the day hunched over the toilet bowl, my stomach twisting like a wrung-out rag. “Fantastic,” I muttered hoarsely, wiping my mouth. “Another perfect morning.” The mirror above the sink was no help. My hair hung limp, my eyes dull with exhaustion, and dark circles loomed like permanent shadows. If pregnancy came with a glow, mine must’ve been on back order. After splashing cold water on my face, I trudged into the kitchen and reached for my pack of cigarettes on the counter. One drag—just one—might help me feel normal again. “Seriously?” Leila’s voice cut through the silence. She was leaning against the fridge, arms crossed, her eyebrows raised. “Leila, don’t start,” I sighed, shaking a cigarette loose. Before I could light it, she snatched it from my hand. “What the hell?” I snapped, glaring at her. “What the hell, indeed!” she fired back, waving a piece of paper in her other hand—the pregnancy report. I froze. “Where did you get that?” “It was on the bathroom sink, genius,” she said, her voice softening. “And I hate to break it to you, mama bear, but smoking’s officially off the table.” “Leila…” My voice cracked, and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. She stepped closer, placing the cigarette and the report on the counter. “Look, I know this is a lot. I know it’s scary. But you’re not doing this alone. I’m here, even if it means wrestling cigarettes out of your hand every morning.” I reached for the cigarette pack on the counter, only for Leila to slap my hand away. “Seriously?” I groaned, clutching my stinging fingers. “One cigarette won’t hurt the baby.” Leila’s eyes narrowed as she snatched the pack and held it up like evidence in a courtroom. “One leads to two, and two leads to you chain-smoking like a chimney. Nope. Not happening.” “Leila, give it back.” “Not a chance.” She spun on her heel and tossed the pack into the trash. “You’re unbelievable!” I snapped. Cigarettes had been my escape since I was sixteen. They’d carried me through the stress of college, through assignments, and sleepless nights. This felt like an attack on my sanity. “You’re pregnant, not invincible,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “If you want a bad habit, you can start drinking herbal tea. It’s safe and soothing.” I rolled my eyes. “What’s next? Are you going to cut off my Wi-Fi so I don’t stay up too late?” Her face turned serious. “Funny you mention that. Last night, you were on your laptop at 4 a.m., and don’t think I didn’t notice.” I groaned. “Leila, I’m finishing my dissertation. I need to graduate.” “You also need to sleep, or do you want a baby born exhausted from the womb?” she countered, her tone sharp. “Fine!” I threw my hands up. “You win. No smoking, early bedtime, and chamomile tea for life. Anything else?” Leila smirked, but her expression softened as she grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. “Now that we’re clear on that, have you thought about… him?”

My chest tightened. I knew exactly who she meant, but the last thing I wanted was this conversation. “I don’t even know where to start, Leila,” I admitted quietly. “We didn’t exchange numbers. I don’t even know his last name.” Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re telling me you had a one-night stand and didn’t get his number?” I winced. “It was… a complicated night.” Leila grabbed her coat, determination blazing in her eyes. “Alright, we’re going to the hotel. We’ll find him.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t live there. He said he was staying for a week—just passing through.” She froze, then snapped her fingers. “The bar. Someone there might know him.” “Leila, this is ridiculous,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “What’s ridiculous,” she shot back, “is you acting like this isn’t a big deal. You’re having his baby.” “I know that!” I snapped, my voice cracking. “You think I’m not scared out of my mind? I don’t even know where to start!” Leila softened, stepping closer. “Then let me help. But you can’t shut down on me, okay?” I nodded weakly, barely able to meet her eyes. Then she frowned, a new thought dawning. “Wait. What’s his name?” I froze. “Don’t tell me…” Her eyes widened. “You don’t know his name.” I swallowed hard. “Are you serious?” she hissed. “You don’t even know the name of the guy whose kid you’re carrying?” “It was one night!” I shot back. “I didn’t think—” “Clearly,” she interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay. No judgment. But we’re finding him. Name or no name.” “And if we don’t?” I whispered. Her expression softened, but her tone stayed firm. “Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” “W-What?” I stammered, staring at Leila in disbelief. “You found him?” She grinned, leaning against the doorframe like she’d won the lottery. “Found your baby daddy. You’re welcome.” My chest tightened. “How?” She smirked. “Went back to the bar. Bartender remembered him—apparently, he’s a regular.” I blinked, heart racing. “You just… asked?” Leila shrugged, but her smugness was impossible to miss. “I might’ve flirted a little. Maybe bought him a round. Details don’t matter.” I crossed my arms. “Leila…” “Relax!” she interrupted, pulling a napkin from her pocket. “Look.” I stared at the name scribbled on it: Mark Adonis. Below it, a phone number. My hands trembled as I took it. “Call him,” Leila said firmly. “Now?” My voice wavered, every instinct screaming to delay. “Yes, now,” she snapped, her gaze sharp. “He deserves to know. And so do you.” I gripped the napkin, my pulse roaring in my ears. There was no running from this anymore. I felt my breath quicken as I unlocked my phone, staring at the keypad. This was it. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat louder than the last. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I dialed his number. The phone rang. Once. Twice. I swore I could hear my own pulse in my ears. By the fifth ring, I could feel the cold sweat gathering on the back of my neck. This was the moment. Seven. Eight. The line cut to voicemail. “It’s gone to voicemail,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. A strange relief washed over me. Leila shot up from the bed. “Leave a message! Now!” I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the button to end the call. But Leila’s frantic gestures pushed me forward. I put the phone back to my ear, the beep almost echoing in the silence. “Uh, hi,” I stuttered, my throat dry. “It’s Elena… we met a few months ago at the bar.” Leila glared at me, silently urging me to keep going. “I—I need to talk to you about something. It’s important. Please call me back.” I rushed the last words out, my voice shaking. “Shit! What do I do?” I hissed, waving my phone in front of Leila. “What does this mean?” Leila’s eyes widened in shock, and she grabbed the phone from my hand, accepting the call before I could blink. She slammed the phone on speaker, leaning in close. “Talk,” she hissed under her breath. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I stared at the screen. What the hell was I supposed to say? “Hello?” A deep, gravelly voice answered after a few seconds of agonizing silence. I froze, looking at Leila, who was now gesturing wildly for me to speak. I couldn’t find my words. “Hello?” His voice grew impatient.

“Hi.” My voice cracked as I squeaked out the word. “Hi,” I repeated, louder this time, though my nerves rattled. “Elena? What do you need to talk about?” His tone was direct, almost demanding. I swallowed hard. “I—I think we should meet. This can’t be said over the phone.” There was a long pause. “Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Where?” I blinked, surprised by how easily he agreed. I hadn’t expected this. I ran a hand through my hair. “Uh… my place?” I offered weakly, though I could tell Leila was stifling a laugh. She shot me a look and mouthed café before nodding towards the door. He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Two o’clock. Does that work?” I nodded quickly, heart pounding. “Yeah, perfect.” “See you then,” he said before hanging up. I exhaled sharply, eyes closing as anxiety clenched my chest. Tomorrow. It had to be done. Leila’s voice cut through my thoughts. “He sounds hot.” I snapped my eyes open. “He is.” I couldn’t help but remember how he looked at me that night—powerful, magnetic. I’d been drawn to him instantly. Leila smirked. “He thinks you’re after a repeat of that night.” I groaned. “No. It’s not like that.” She mimicked his voice dramatically, “My place,” before bursting into laughter. “Not funny,” I muttered, but she was still laughing. At the coffee bar

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My stepsister framed me for causing her allergic reaction, so my three brothers locked me in a cramped, airless cellar and chained the door shut. I weakly pounded on the cellar door, begging my brothers to let me out. James, my oldest brother and a business tycoon, coldly scolded me before leaving: “It’s bad enough that you usually bully Lily, but deliberately feeding her seafood when you know she’s allergic? Were you trying to kill her? Stay in there and think about what you’ve done!” William, my second brother and a rising music star, and Henry, my third brother and a genius painter, both sneered: “Someone as vicious as you is still making excuses and playing the victim? You can just stay in there and suffer the consequences!” With that, they carried my trembling stepsister Lily in their arms and rushed her to the hospital. As the oxygen slowly ran out, each breath became more labored until I finally died in that cellar. Three days later, when my brothers returned home from the hospital with Lily, they finally remembered me. But by then, I had already suffocated to death in that cramped cellar. I died from lack of oxygen in that cellar. When I regained consciousness, I found my spirit hovering next to my three brothers. They had just returned to their mansion. James and William were gently helping Lily, speaking to her kindly: “Thank goodness we got you to the hospital in time. You’re recovering so quickly.” Henry fussed over her with obvious concern: “The doctor said your body is still weak and needs proper nourishment.” He then eagerly served Lily a large piece of meat. A servant hesitantly spoke up: “Young masters, Miss Rachel hasn’t made a sound in the cellar for three days now…” James snorted and cut her off: “Today is a happy day – Lily’s coming home from the hospital. Why bring up that troublemaker?” The servant tried to continue, but William and Henry’s cold glares silenced her. “That wretched girl must have known about the seafood allergy and deliberately made an entire seafood dinner,” William fumed. “And here I thought she was finally starting to accept Lily. Turns out it was all premeditated!” Henry added angrily. Lily put on a frightened expression and timidly said: “Big sister is being punished because of me. She’s been alone in that cellar for so many days. What if she’s angry when she comes out?” James’ expression hardened. “Don’t worry, Lily. We’ve been too lenient with her before. She’s never faced real consequences. After this lesson, she won’t dare bully you again.” As he spoke, he instinctively pulled out his phone and refreshed our chat history. But our last messages were still from three days ago. In those three days, I hadn’t sent a single message or made a single call. James’ eyes flashed with anger. “That ungrateful brat! It’s been days and she hasn’t even sent one message asking how Lily is doing!” At that moment, Lily deliberately grasped James’ hand and said in a tearful voice: “I just wanted big sister to spend time with me. I never meant to steal anything from her.” James quickly set down his phone and stroked Lily’s head affectionately. “Lily, you’re so kind. Not like her – she’s nothing but an ungrateful wretch.” William’s eyes filled with cold disdain as he thought of me. “That’s right. She dares to harm family just to get attention? She’s truly despicable!” Henry nodded in vehement agreement and sneered, “Unless she’s learned her lesson and is willing to kneel and apologize to Lily, I’ll throw her out of this house myself!” I stood nearby, listening to my brothers’ words, and could only laugh bitterly at the absurdity. But my spirit’s actions went completely unnoticed by the living. Ever since our parents died when I was young, my three brothers had devoted all their attention to me. One day I said I wanted a playmate my own age, so my brothers went to an orphanage and adopted Lily as my stepsister. I opened my heart to Lily’s arrival, but in front of my brothers she repeatedly framed me, causing them to grow more and more distant from me with each passing day. Including this time – my three brothers locked me in that tiny cellar without a second thought. I struggled desperately, but could only feel the air in the cramped cellar growing thinner and thinner. Pounding on the cellar door, I begged my brothers over and over to let me out. But my brothers only looked at me coldly, angrily saying: “What are you yelling about? This is all your own fault. If it weren’t for you, why would Lily be suffering from such a bad allergic reaction?” “We’ve clearly been too nice to you, that’s why you keep bullying and tormenting Lily. Just stay in there and think about what you’ve done!” With that, William personally wrapped chains around the door, while Henry piled heavy objects in front of it, eliminating any chance I had of saving myself. Now, watching Lily fake-smile at my brothers, I let out another bitter, mocking laugh. Brothers, the sister who loved you most in this world has been killed by your own hands! Lily tugged on James’ sleeve and said in a pitiful voice: “Big brother, don’t be angry anymore. It’s my fault for being so weak and having food allergies. I’m sure big sister didn’t mean it. Please don’t blame her!” James’ expression instantly darkened. He said coldly: “That wretched girl! We’ve clearly spoiled her too much, letting her develop such an arrogant and domineering personality!” William’s eyes flashed with surging anger: “The older she gets, the more narrow-minded she becomes. If it weren’t for her, how could Lily have ended up in this state?” At this point, Lily deliberately exposed her limbs, which still showed faint traces of the allergic reaction, to the three brothers. There were still a few red marks visible. Henry gently stroked the skin that still bore slight redness. “Does it still hurt, Lily?” Lily lowered her head, her voice trembling as if she was about to cry: “It doesn’t hurt… really, it doesn’t…” The anger in William’s heart was thoroughly ignited. He shouted furiously: “If we’d gotten to the hospital any later, it could have been life-threatening for Lily. And after all these days, she hasn’t even sent a single message. She truly shows no remorse at all!” James spoke with even greater fury: “Go bring that wretched girl here to apologize! I don’t believe she can keep refusing to say sorry!” William and Henry joined in angrily: “It’s all because she’s relied on our support. Now that she’s done something wrong, she must face proper punishment!” They turned to the servants and thundered: “What are you all standing around for? Hurry up and bring that ungrateful brat here. And bring our disciplinary cane too. If it weren’t for Rachel deliberately putting seafood in the meal, how could Lily have suffered in the hospital for three days?” “It’s time to set the rules straight in this household!” The servants didn’t dare disobey and hurried off in my direction. I let out a despairing, bitter laugh. My brothers hadn’t even investigated the truth before arbitrarily deciding I was guilty. Three days ago, Lily said she was hungry, so I wanted to do something nice and cooked for her. She even gave me a small packet of seasoning, saying she wanted to eat that. I tasted it and it seemed like normal seasoning. Who could have known it contained her allergen? James is supposed to be a business genius, yet he couldn’t even see through such an obvious ploy for attention? If that’s not favoritism, what is? In my brothers’ hearts, I would never be as important as stepsister Lily. I felt increasingly desolate. But it didn’t matter anymore. I had already died in that cellar. Now my brothers could give all their love and favor to Lily. “Young master, we’ve been calling Miss Rachel for a long time, but there’s been no response at all.” “We can’t hear any breathing from inside!” James frowned deeply, stood up abruptly, his face cold with anger: “What new game is that wretched girl playing now? Does she think it’s beneath her dignity to apologize to Lily?” “Does she still not understand that she nearly killed you this time?!” Lily tugged on James’ sleeve again and said sadly: “Big brother, it’s okay. I’m just an orphan. I don’t deserve to have big sister apologize to me.” The anger in James’ heart was thoroughly provoked: “Using such a lowly tactic for attention – does she really think I can’t see through it?” “She must think she’s so clever, thinking if she plays mute she can get away with it. It seems the punishment I gave her was too light!” “Let’s go. Drag her out here. I’d like to see how she tries to hide now. She must kneel and apologize to Lily!” I involuntarily followed my three brothers’ footsteps, my heart growing heavier with sorrow. Fueled by their rage, my three brothers soon arrived at the cellar door. “Rachel Harper, do you think hiding in there silently will let you escape punishment?” But there was no sound from inside the cellar. William’s face grew even darker: “Rachel Harper, what are you still pretending for? Come out right now and kneel to apologize to Lily!” “Don’t think that hiding in there, turning off your phone, and not contacting us will let you avoid the consequences of deliberately hurting Lily!” Henry’s eyes were blazing with anger as he shouted: “Rachel Harper, you’ve really gotten bold. You just can’t stand to see us being nice to Lily, so you’re deliberately staying silent to provoke us!” “Do you really think hiding in the cellar and refusing to speak will make us give in first?” There was still no sound from inside the cellar. James turned to look at the trembling servants and coldly commanded: “Why are you all shaking? Tell me the truth – did that wretched girl bribe you? Did you secretly let her out?” William snorted, “Given her despicable nature, she probably couldn’t stand being in the cellar after we left and had these servants open the door to let her out.” Henry’s eyes were filled with disappointment: “You nearly killed Lily, but you can’t even face the consequences of your actions. Is this really the sister I know?” “Do you really think we only have you as a sister?” At this point, a servant finally spoke up trembling: “Young master, we wouldn’t dare let her out without your orders!” “Miss Rachel has truly been in the cellar for three whole days now.” Henry looked at the still silent cellar, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes. He walked up and pulled hard on the cellar door several times, but couldn’t open it. “Rachel Harper, enough is enough. I’ve unlocked all the locks. Are you still stubbornly holding the door shut from inside?” I looked at the twisted cellar door and could only laugh bitterly. At the time, desperate to save myself from suffocation, I had repeatedly slammed against the door, just wanting to survive. But the cellar door was exceptionally sturdy. I couldn’t even create the slightest gap, and could only suffocate to death in that cellar. Brothers, when you see my corpse, will you be able to give me even a tiny bit of love and bury me next to mom and dad? James grew increasingly agitated. He started kicking the door forcefully. The twisted cellar door opened a larger crack, and a foul stench wafted out. A servant trembled as she spoke: “It smells like… a decomposing body!” The other two brothers also approached, full of rage. “What decomposing body? She clearly ran away long ago and just threw a dead rat in there to trick us!” “Rachel Harper, do you really think we’re that easy to fool?” The three brothers grew even more impatient and all started kicking the door together. The entire cellar entrance shook again. With a loud bang, the door was kicked wide open. Along with an even stronger putrid smell, the small dark cellar was exposed to everyone’s view.

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