It was a stormy night. The school bus driver had called in sick, unable to take the children home. As the class advisor, I remained unmoved as the children cried and begged me to drive them home.
In my previous life, I had given in to my daughter’s pleas and chose to drive the children home myself. As an inexperienced driver, I had managed to successfully deliver each child to their home, trembling with nervousness the entire time.
The next day, the entire class collectively boycotted school. Not a single student showed up. A crowd of parents stormed the school, accusing me of failing to protect their children as the class advisor. My beaten colleagues vented their frustrations on me.
“Didn’t you promise to get the children home safely? Why have they all disappeared?” they demanded.
“Child trafficker! You deserve to die!” someone shouted.
I desperately tried to defend myself, but the police arrived with criminals in tow who accused me of being their accomplice. Even my own daughter tearfully stood up and accused me of violently abusing the children.
I stared at my daughter in shock as she produced a surveillance video. The footage showed me wielding a cane, bringing it down hard on the children as they cried out in pain.
The people around me angrily denounced me as a monster. My husband even provided a video of me privately cursing the children.
I found myself universally condemned. Despite multiple appeals to prove my innocence, the surveillance footage and videos nailed me to the pillar of shame. I was immediately sentenced to death.
When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow returned to that fateful rainy night.
My daughter, Tiana Quinn, looked at me pleadingly. “Mom, Miss Yolanda said only you can drive the school bus. Please help my classmates, okay?”
Outside the office, over twenty children stood pitifully in the rain, their eyes glistening with tears.
They begged, “Mrs. White, please help us. Otherwise, we’ll have to stay at school in the rain all night.”
I couldn’t help but think of the tragic outcome from my previous life, my body trembling uncontrollably.
I shook my head repeatedly. “No, I’m just the class advisor. I don’t have approval to use the school bus. I can’t possibly drive it.”
The children’s expressions dimmed. They hung their heads dejectedly.
My office colleagues finally couldn’t bear to watch any longer.
“Mrs. Brown, the children are getting soaked. Who cares about approval at a time like this?” one said.
“Exactly! How can you be so cold-hearted as their class advisor?” another chimed in.
“If I knew how to drive, I’d definitely take the children home myself,” a third added.
A chorus of complaints and accusations suddenly flooded my ears.
I was momentarily speechless, my gaze suddenly fixed on the window outside.
My husband, Ezra Quinn, came rushing in, the smile on his face instantly turning to concern when he met my eyes.
“Your school bus driver has a high fever and can’t pick up the kids. We’ve coordinated with our side,” he explained.
“We can’t spare anyone from our company at the moment, so I went ahead and got approval from your school leaders. Can you fill in for now?”
I stared hard at Ezra. That was awfully quick.
My daughter instantly brightened. “That’s great, Mom! Now that you have approval, you can take my classmates home, right?”
I still refused. Looking at Ezra, I said apologetically, “I only recently learned to drive. I’m afraid something might happen with such a big bus full of students.”
“Why don’t you do it? I remember you know how to drive the school bus too.”
Ezra’s expression froze. When he recovered, he shook his head repeatedly. “No, no, I haven’t driven a big vehicle in over a decade. It would be truly irresponsible if I tried.”
His expression gradually turned strange.
“I know you’ve never liked these kids much, but you’re their class advisor. It’s your responsibility to get them home safely.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Seeing Ezra about to take out his phone, my eyes darkened.
“I’ll make sure to get the children home safely,” I said.
My husband instantly relaxed.
He smiled and picked up our daughter. “Then I’ll take our daughter home first to wait for you.”
Tiana’s face lit up with a big smile. “Bye, Mom!”
That strange feeling crept over me again.
Nevertheless, I led the group of children onto the bus.
The bus was covered in cobwebs, looking as if it hadn’t been driven in years.
As I sat in the driver’s seat, a stinging sensation spread across my arm.
The next moment, a rash of tiny bumps erupted all over my skin.
I paused, looking at my exposed arm.
In my previous life, the same thing had happened when I boarded the bus – a rash of tiny bumps appeared, and I developed a fever while on the bus.
I had assumed it was from getting rained on.
After a moment’s thought, I immediately called an old classmate.
The children’s impatient voices came from behind me: “Mrs. Brown, when can we leave?”
I snapped back to reality.
I turned to face them with a smile. “Don’t worry, everyone. I promise I’ll get you all home safely!”
Cheers erupted from behind me as I decisively drove the bus in the opposite direction.
At the hospital entrance, I stopped the bus. My old classmate hurried over to take over.
“I’ve got the students from here. You go on ahead,” he said.
Twenty minutes later, I received a call from Ezra.
He sounded like he’d taken the wrong medication: “Why haven’t you delivered everyone yet?”
“Don’t you know all the parents have been calling?”
“Where are you right now?”
I looked up at the emergency room sign and replied curtly, “Hospital emergency room.”
He paused, then said urgently, “I’m coming to find you!”
The call ended with just a busy signal.
Coming out of the emergency room, I ran right into Ezra.
His face was grim as he launched into a tirade: “Which is more important, the kids or you? Not taking the children home first is literally gambling with their lives!”
“Letting someone like you be a teacher – they must be blind!”
My heart sank lower and lower.
I had heard such words countless times before.
“Lark Brown, you’re a disgrace to the teaching profession!”
“You’re so useless, don’t corrupt those children!”
“The school leaders must be blind to let someone like you be a teacher!”
Each word stabbed at my heart.
I had once fallen into depression and anxiety because of such words, questioning myself over and over again.
I had taken antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication by the handful.
Hearing it now, I just found it somewhat amusing.
I gave Ezra a cold look. His expression froze.
He seemed somewhat embarrassed and angry.
“You’re glaring at me now! Am I not telling the truth?” he demanded.
“Look at yourself! How did you insult those children behind their backs?”
“You even said you’d sell the children! I bet you meant it!”
His heated words drew quite a crowd.
The phone video clearly transmitted my abusive language to everyone’s ears.
The onlookers grew furious.
“What kind of teacher are you? The children have become a burden in your eyes?”
“You don’t deserve to be a teacher!”
“Which school do you teach at? We’ll make sure to spread the word!”
The accusations left me feeling suffocated.
The world seemed to sway before my eyes.
In my daze, I thought I saw Ezra smile.
Then he bowed deeply to the crowd. “I’m terribly sorry for upsetting everyone.”
“But the school bus driver is sick today, and my wife is the only one who can drive the big bus.”
“Please give my wife a chance. Let her take those children home first.”
I unconsciously followed Ezra’s lead and bowed as well.
As I bent over, a child nearby crashed into me hard, knocking me to the ground.
I suddenly came to my senses.
Although the crowd was still angry, when they heard there were children waiting for me to take them home, they didn’t rebuke me further.
I vaguely heard someone say, “It’s a good thing this teacher’s husband is sensible. Otherwise those poor children would really be in trouble.”
Ezra looked at me imperiously. “Hurry up and go take the children home. What are you standing around for?”
I didn’t move.
Ezra’s expression became strangely bewildered.
I finally explained, “I have a fever. If I force myself to drive, an accident could easily happen.”
“I can’t be responsible for so many children’s lives!”
With that, Ezra’s face darkened completely.
One of his fists was clenched tight, while the other hand was hidden behind his back.
After a moment, he sneered, “Still pretending to be sick? I bet you’re just trying to meet up with someone.”
“After all, you have a record of contacting suspects.”
My husband kept producing evidence to corroborate my alleged contact with suspects.
The crowd’s chatter had already nailed me as a child trafficker.
Someone even called the police to arrest me.
I bit my lip, not knowing how to defend myself.
At some point, Yolanda had hurried over.
She was soaking wet, her exposed skin flushed red.
When she reached me, she broke into a fit of heavy coughing, doubling over.
After a long while, she finally straightened up. With reddened eyes, she bowed deeply to me.
“Mrs. Brown, please don’t be angry. I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s my fault for getting sick. I’ll take over the school bus now and get the children home safely.”
Her nasally voice immediately swayed everyone’s sympathy towards her.
“Is this the school bus driver?”
“Look what this teacher has reduced the poor driver to.”
“If you ask me, she’s just jealous that this driver is younger and prettier than her. She wants to make her lose her job.”
There was a hint of triumph in Yolanda’s eyes.
She asked, “Mrs. Brown, where are the children? Can you take me to pick them up first?”
“I just went to the school bus and saw it was empty—”
With those words, everyone exploded.
They all stared at me in disbelief: “You really sold the children?”
Yolanda also looked incredulous, her eyes wide and tearful. “Mrs. Brown, how could you do this?”
“Those children adored you the most!”
They didn’t give me a chance to respond.
Several parents rushed over.
With bloodshot eyes, they grabbed my collar: “Lark Brown! What did my child ever do to you that you had to sell them?”
“I always thought you were a good teacher! I was so wrong about you!”
With that, a fist mercilessly slammed into my eye.
I winced in pain, frowning deeply.
The person holding me clearly had no intention of letting go.
They only wanted their children back now: “Lark Brown, give me back my child!”
“He’s my only child, you’re destroying our whole family!”
Behind me, an old woman’s heart-wrenching cries rang out with genuine emotion.
For the sake of her grandchild, she knelt down before me.
She kept kowtowing, begging: “Mrs. Brown, if it’s money you want, I’ll give you as much as you ask. I’m begging you, please give my grandchild back to me.”
At this moment, my throat felt painfully constricted.
The people attacking me kept beating me, while the old woman kept crying and shouting.
The scene was utter chaos.
“Grandma, please get up! This teacher with no ethics doesn’t deserve your kneeling!” someone urged.
“Get up quickly, there are so many of us here. We won’t let a child trafficker escape!”
“That’s right, how could we let one person get away with trafficking children?”
The old woman ignored all this.
She cried and shouted for me to release her grandson.
Her forehead was already bleeding.
The crowd’s anger towards me grew heavier and heavier.
Until I was beaten within an inch of my life.
Someone grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up.
“Come on, I’m taking this child trafficker to the police station. I want to see how long she can keep acting tough!”
We had only reached the hospital entrance when a group of police officers blocked our path.
“Who is Lark Brown?” one asked.
“Someone reported you for human trafficking crimes!”
“Officer, she’s right here!” someone called out.
I was thrown to the ground.
At last I could finally catch my breath.
After a long while, I managed to climb to my feet with a bitter smile. “Officer, I reported myself. I may have been involved in human trafficking.”
Someone finally couldn’t hold back: “If you were involved then you were involved, what do you mean ‘may have been’!”
“The police are already here, are you still trying to deny it?”
“What? You think using vague words means you don’t have to face legal consequences?”
Angry, they kicked me.
I staggered and fell to the ground.
The police officer swept his gaze over the crowd and said coldly, “Calm down!”
He looked down at me and had someone help me up. “What happened? Explain yourself!”
After a long while, I shook my head to clear the double vision.
“I was poisoned which caused hallucinations. I was going to sell the children.”
The old woman rushed over and grabbed my collar, demanding: “You really sold the children? Are you even human!”
“Poisoned? Do you look like someone who’s been poisoned?”
Ezra gave a cold laugh.
I didn’t respond to him, but stood up and handed the medical report I had gotten from the emergency room to the police officer.
“You can take a look. The poison wasn’t severe, but enough to cause a high fever and hallucinations.”
“In an unclear state of mind, I may have acted in ways that went against my true intentions.”
The police officer looked shocked as he examined the report.
After staring at it for a long time, he said, “We’ll thoroughly verify the information you’ve provided.”
“We’ll take you home first.”
The crowd stared at the police officer in shock.
“Officer, she sold children. Why can she go home?”
“Shouldn’t she be taken to the station at a time like this?”
Ezra panicked and hurriedly blocked the police officer’s path.
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When my family’s house was sold for redevelopment, we received a windfall of $1.2 million.
I planned to use the opportunity to take my parents on a road trip, but my girlfriend stopped me.
“I need $300,000 for a wedding settlement, $600,000 for a house for my brother, and $50,000 for a new car for my parents,” she demanded.
“Whatever’s left, we’ll split it after the wedding.”
I laughed, packed up, and took my parents on that road trip anyway.
Along the way, I found a girlfriend with actual values.
Content
When our old family home in Hickory Ridge, North Carolina, was sold, we didn’t just receive a couple of new properties in exchange—we also got a windfall of $1.2 million.
My parents, ever practical, decided to transfer half of the money—$600,000—into my account. “You’re working now, Colton,” Mom said calmly. It’s time for you to learn how to manage money. Don’t waste it on anything stupid like gambling or drugs; the rest is up to you.”
I practically jumped for joy, hugging my mom and peppering her with kisses. “You guys are the best parents ever! Don’t worry, I’ll use it wisely. No reckless spending, I promise!”
With newfound excitement, I called my girlfriend, Amber Winslow, and treated her to dinner and a movie. On a whim, I even bought her that high-end designer bag she’d been eyeing for months.
Amber’s eyes sparkled with delight. “What’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday, and it’s not a holiday. Why are you suddenly showering me with such an expensive gift?”
Unable to contain myself, I showed her the bank notification of the transfer. “My parents gave me a huge chunk of money from selling our old house. I’ve officially upgraded from middle-class Colton to the future heir of the Hayes estate!”
Amber took my phone and stared at the zeros in my account, counting them repeatedly, her face frozen in shock.
Although my family has always been financially stable, I never had this money. It was overwhelming but in a good way. I was too wrapped up in the joy to notice Amber’s expression subtly shift.
“I’m thinking of buying a luxury RV,” I said, grinning. “I’d love to take my parents on a road trip across the country. They’ve worked hard all their lives; it’s time to treat them to some well-deserved relaxation.”
Amber’s cheerful mood seemed to falter. “An RV? A road trip? That must cost a fortune.”
“Not really,” I replied after thinking for a moment. “A decent one will probably set me back about $80,000.”
“Eighty thousand dollars?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief.
Her reaction puzzled me.
Sensing my confusion, Amber forced a smile. “Babe, maybe skip the RV. Your parents could join a local tour group for a few days instead. Why spend so much?” She linked her arm with mine, her tone turning sweet. “Think about it. An RV is so expensive, and it’s not like you’ll use it year-round. Most of the time, it’ll just sit in the driveway collecting dust. Wouldn’t it make more sense to give me that money instead?”
Her reasoning started to put me on edge, but I calmed myself down, assuming she was worried about wedding expenses.
“Amber,” I said, “my parents already set aside money for our house and the wedding long ago. This windfall has nothing to do with those plans.”
Amber huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not just about me. My brother Lance is getting engaged soon, and his fiancée is demanding a $140,000 engagement settlement plus a house in Washington, D.C.’s top school district.”
“You know my family can’t afford that, but with this money, you could help. Just $200,000 for the settlement and the house, another $50,000 for a car for my parents, and you can let me manage the rest. I’ll be handling our finances after the wedding anyway.”
Amber added in a muttered tone, “And my parents have never been on vacation either. How about you take them along, too?”
Her words carried an unspoken assumption—that the money was hers to claim.
I stared at Amber’s expectant face and remained silent.
I wasn’t the type to judge someone based on material needs. I wouldn’t have stayed with Amber all these years if I had.
We’d been together since high school. Back then, she was the smart girl in our class, and our teacher assigned us seats together so she could help me with my grades. Her patience and gentle smile had left a lasting impression.
Amber’s family wasn’t well-off—I knew that. I’d even paid her college tuition and living expenses for four years because her parents couldn’t afford it. Without my help, she likely would’ve been forced into an early marriage with some middle-aged bachelor in exchange for a meager settlement to support her brother, Lance.
I even accompanied her to legally change her name from “Sherry Winslow” to something less old-fashioned.
Over the years, I never let her spend a dime when we were together. Every date, every outing—it was always on me. And while I indulged her, she grew accustomed to being pampered.
When Amber graduated, I persuaded my parents to help her get a job she’d never qualified for.
But now, looking back at it all, I wondered if I’d gone too far.
Gently withdrawing my arm from hers, I said in an amused tone, “Amber, your brother getting married isn’t my responsibility. Why should I buy him a house?”
Her expression darkened. “Colton, are you stupid? My brother will be your brother once we’re married. I’ll quit my job, stay home, cook for you, clean for you, give you a big family, and spend the rest of my life paying you back. How’s that for a deal?”
What a calculation. I’d give her family everything, and she’d repay me with her “loyalty.”
When I didn’t respond, her patience snapped.
Her voice softened again as if coaxing me. “Babe, if you love me, you’ll love my family too. I’ll always be a good wife and mother; when my family’s doing well, it reflects well on me. Isn’t that important?”
Her demands were absurd. I didn’t care what she said. “I’m not giving you the money,” I stated firmly.
Amber exploded. “Colton Hayes, don’t push me! Are you seriously refusing to buy my brother a house? After everything I’ve done for you, my years with you mean nothing? Now that you’ve got money, you’re just dumping me?”
The argument escalated in the middle of the mall, drawing stares from passersby. I hated causing a scene.
I tried to lead her somewhere private to talk, but she yanked her arm away and angrily threw her new designer bag on the floor.
Picking it up, I said, “If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to my mom. She’ll appreciate it more.”
Without a backward glance, I walked away. Amber’s shouts followed me, accusing me of ingratitude. “You’ll regret this, Colton! After everything I sacrificed for you, you owe me!”
But I didn’t look back.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. The thrill of newfound wealth had evaporated entirely.
I reflected on my years with Amber. When it wasn’t about her family, she was the perfect girlfriend—kind, attentive, and warm. She was everything I’d ever wanted.
But her obsession with her parents and brother, her greed, and her entitlement—it was too much.
Later that night, she texted me, asking if I was still angry.
Seeing her familiar profile picture, I hesitated. For a moment, it felt like the Amber I loved was back.
After typing and deleting several replies, I finally settled on two words: “Not angry.”
Amber sent a picture of a dish she’d just learned to cook. “Practice makes perfect. I’ll make it for you soon,” she wrote cheerfully, as though our earlier argument hadn’t happened.
Maybe she’d realized her mistake.
I decided to test her. I sent her photos of two luxury RVs. “Which one do you think I should buy?” I asked.
Minutes later, Amber replied with a string of ellipses.
I followed up, “I’m leaning toward the first one. It’s spacious, fuel-efficient, and stylish. Perfect for road trips.”
Barely two seconds after I sent the text, my phone rang.
As soon as I picked up, Amber’s furious voice erupted.
“Are you deaf? Didn’t I tell you not to waste money on an RV? Your parents don’t deserve it! And how dare you make decisions without consulting me? That money is ours for our future, and you’re being selfish!”
I didn’t let her finish. “Let me remind you, Amber, we’re not married yet. That money isn’t ‘ours.’ It’s mine. And I don’t owe your family anything. If they want a house or a car, they can buy it themselves.”
Amber hung up on me mid-sentence.
When I tried calling back, I realized she’d blocked me.
She always did this after arguments—blocking me on everything until I showed up with gifts and apologies.
This time, I decided to let it be.
Early in the morning, I brush my teeth, prepare, and sit at the table for breakfast.
I couldn’t help but notice something was off with Mom. She kept her head down, barely looked at me, and said nothing. Her demeanor felt unusually downcast.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Your eyes are red. Did Dad do something to upset you?” I asked, concerned.
Forcing a smile, she quickly wiped her eyes. “No, sweetie. It’s nothing. I just got a little something in my eye while cooking.”
I glanced at the table. Breakfast was takeout from a diner—scrambled eggs, hash browns, and sausage biscuits—and there was no sign of cooking anywhere.
I shifted my gaze to Dad, who sighed and handed me Mom’s phone.
“Take a look,” he said quietly.
It was a text from Amber Winslow sent late last night. The message was blunt, almost hostile: She demanded that I use the family money on her family—her brother, her parents, and their needs—or else she wouldn’t “respect” my parents after marriage.
The words stung with entitlement and disdain.
My parents had never approved of Amber. They warned me about her initially, but because they loved me and respected my choices, they eventually stopped voicing their concerns. Over the years, Amber never visited them or even sent a holiday card. And now, this was the first time she’d reached out—just to make such an offensive demand.
Mom spoke softly, “Colton, as long as you’re happy, your dad and I don’t mind. You decide to make.”
I stared at my parents. Their once-dark hair now had streaks of gray, and the lines on their faces seemed more profound than I remembered. We’d always been a tight-knit family, yet here we were, fractured by Amber’s selfishness.
My parents had sacrificed so much to make my life easier. How could I let them suffer the indignity of being mistreated by her and her family?
Amber’s audacity before marriage was already unbearable. If we tied the knot, her family would surely drain us dry.
“Delete the message,” I told my mom. “Block her number. You don’t need to deal with this nonsense.”
Mom hesitated for a moment but nodded. She trusted me to handle it.
A few days later, Amber finally cracked.
Unblocking me, she said, “Have you realized your mistake these past few days?”
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After three years of being with Cole Stevens, I accidentally scratched his childhood friend’s hand.
So, on my birthday, he brought a whole group of people to corner me in an alley and smashed the left hand I used to play the violin.
He stood over me, looking down with disdain, and said, “Forget the violin. You won’t need that useless thing anymore.”
Later, he lost his mind and kept hugging me, begging me over and over not to forget the past.
But all I could respond with was a blank, unfamiliar stare.
“Amber, are you okay?”
“Amber! What’s wrong? What happened?”
On a dark and windy night, Cole Stevens had his men hold me down in an alley not far from home.
The sky was completely overcast, with layers of clouds piling up, pressing against the horizon. The dead silence of the alley was broken only by the cold wind howling through the streets. Two tall men restrained my hands, pinning me against the wall, unable to move.
My phone lay smashed on the ground, and from it, I could faintly hear my brother Daniel’s panicked voice.
“Amber? What’s going on? Say something…”
My breath came out in cold, shallow gasps, and the tension in the air became unbearable.
Cole held a cigarette in his hand, his eyes filled with contempt as he stared down at me. He bent down, picked up my phone, and hung up the call.
I looked up at him, only to be met with a brutal kick from someone in the crowd.
“What are you staring at? You think staring at Cole is going to bring back your fantasy romance?”
One of the men restraining me leaned in, his face close to mine, mocking me. He grabbed my face, squeezing it with disdain.
“You do look a little like Miss Harper. No wonder Cole went for someone like you.”
Then he slammed me to the ground, pulling me by my hair so I’d be forced to face Cole Stevens.
Even now, I couldn’t believe Cole would do this to me.
I looked up at him and asked the only question left in my mind.
“Why?”
But he didn’t even look at me. He just crushed the cigarette against the wall with a cold indifference.
The man who kicked me earlier burst into laughter.
“Why, you ask? How dare you scratch Miss Harper’s hand? Her hand is meant to play the violin!”
“Who do you think you are to be compared to her?”
“Don’t blame us,” he said, patting my cheek. “Even if you gave both your hands, it wouldn’t be enough to make up for what you did.”
So, Cole had dragged me out here in the middle of the night, just because I accidentally scratched his childhood friend Sophia Harper’s hand?
From the start, the only thing he ever cared about was Sophia Harper.
Cole crouched down, taking my left hand into his. He looked at it for a moment before speaking in a voice as cold as ice.
“I can’t let you stand in her way.”
“Forget the violin. You won’t need it anymore.”
“All you need to do is stay by my side.”
Sophia Harper was destined for greatness. She deserved to chase her dreams, free from mundane things like daily struggles.
But did that mean I deserved to have my hand shattered, my spine bent, crawling after you like a replacement?
Fury surged through me, and I screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone outside the alley would hear.
But I hadn’t realized how carefully Cole had planned this. The entire street was cleared.
I struggled with all my strength, but his men took turns holding me down, controlling every movement. The violin on my back was ripped off and thrown harshly to the ground.
With a crack, it split in two.
It was my birthday today.
That violin was the last birthday gift my mother had given me before she passed.
Cole glanced at the broken violin, showing a flicker of hesitation. He knelt down, pretending to be regretful, gently touching the shattered instrument.
“It’s fine. You won’t need any of this from now on. As long as you have me, that’s enough.”
I pressed my lips tightly together, fighting back the tears that blurred my vision. Cold tears streamed down my cheeks, but I couldn’t feel anything.
All I could think about was how that violin was the only thing my mom left for me in this world.
Cole waved his hand, signaling for them to proceed.
And that’s when real fear gripped me.
“Cole Stevens, you can’t do this to me!”
I screamed, but all it got me was a metal pipe smashing down on my left arm.
Agonizing pain shot through my arm, and I let out a piercing scream.
I was terrified.
If my hand was ruined, I’d never play the violin again.
So I crawled forward, inch by inch, my mind barely functioning, all I could think about was begging for mercy.
I clutched Cole’s pant leg.
“Cole… please… let me go… I can’t live without my violin…
“I’ll die… please…”
He shook me off, coldly yanking his leg away.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll leave, I’ll go far away, so you’ll never have to see me again, okay?”
The metal pipe came crashing down again and again on my left hand and arm, mangling it beyond recognition.
I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. I couldn’t even feel my left hand.
“Cole Stevens… I don’t love you anymore, just let me go… I can’t live without my violin…”
If I couldn’t hold a violin, I wouldn’t survive. I could lose everything, but not my dream.
I crawled like a beaten dog, inch by inch, begging for mercy.
I gave him my last shred of dignity.
But he didn’t care. It wasn’t until my left hand and arm were utterly destroyed that he finally called them off. He looked down at me with a pitying gaze.
“Don’t worry, I’ll marry you.
“But you can’t stand in Sophia Harper’s way.”
I collapsed onto the ground, my right hand gently grazing over the mangled remains of my left arm.
Everything I had been holding inside for so long erupted at that moment.
I stared blankly, tears streaming down my face, merging with the blood on my hand.
I couldn’t control myself anymore as I screamed at him with everything I had.
“Cole Stevens! You’ll never see me again!
“You’ll spend the rest of your life in agony, loving someone you can never have!”
I’d been with Cole Stevens for three years.
At the very beginning, I was in a practice room, playing my violin, and he happened to pass by, drawn to the sound.
The summer wind swept through the trees by the window as scattered people strolled down the street.
The melody of “La Vie en Rose” floated through the air, reaching his ears.
He turned his head, and saw me, bathed in light, playing the violin.
It was like an awakening. In that instant, I saw him too.
The music flowed between us, like we were walking through the streets of Paris, and at any moment, we would stumble upon a rose.
Our relationship grew as quickly as the song itself, and Cole became like family to me.
So, when I first heard the rumors, I didn’t believe them.
“Hey, did you hear?”
“Sophia Harper is back from overseas.”
A group of girls, clearly from wealthy families, sat gossiping in a corner, occasionally glancing my way, as snippets of their conversation floated to me.
“Who do you think Cole Stevens will choose, Sophia Harper or Amber Jackson?”
“Is that even a question? Sophia Harper has been the love of his life for ten years. I heard they grew up together!”
One girl, sitting closest to me, shot me a look of pure disdain, rolled her eyes, and whispered to her friends as they left.
“Amber Jackson doesn’t even realize she’s just a replacement. I bet Cole will drop her any day now and go after his true love.”
“Amber who? Sophia Harper is from a prestigious family…”
The rumors spiraled out of control, growing louder by the day.
I was restless, so distracted I didn’t even notice someone standing outside when I opened the door.
The old doorknob fell off, hitting the person’s hand, leaving a deep cut as warm blood started to flow.
That’s when everything changed.
I finally met Sophia Harper.
We looked eerily similar, especially from the side.
Coincidentally, we were both violinists.
Even our habits were strikingly alike.
Cole always held me close, calling me “Soph.” Over and over again.
At the time, I thought he was different from my brother Daniel and the others, who all called me “Amber.”
But it turned out, he wasn’t calling me “Soph,” he was calling me “Sophia.”
I sat crouched in the corner of the hospital, cradling my shattered left arm.
After realizing something was wrong during our phone call, Daniel had rushed out of the house, only to find me, lost and broken, at our front door.
Cole Stevens, with his wealth and influence, easily brushed the incident aside with just a few words. He even promised compensation.
But I could never play the violin again.
I sat there, staring blankly, not reacting to anything. The only thing I could do was hold onto my arm as if that would somehow fix everything.
Daniel didn’t know what else to do, so he gently brought me back home.
I clutched his hand, my eyes red and swollen from crying.
“Daniel…” I smiled weakly at him, even though my eyes were filled with tears. “I have a performance in a couple of days. I can’t stay home like this. Can you take me back to the orchestra?”
He was stunned, frozen in place as he looked at me.
“Amber… don’t be afraid…” He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, trying to comfort me. “I’ll protect you.”
“Daniel! Please… take me back to the orchestra…” I begged, my eyes pleading with him.
Unable to bear seeing me like that, Daniel settled me down in bed before retreating to a corner of the house, where I could hear him quietly break down in sobs.
I didn’t understand what was happening. It felt like my mind was covered in a thick fog, and pieces of my memory were being erased, little by little, like someone rubbing away at them with an eraser.
I felt scared, but at the same time, there was a part of me that looked forward to forgetting everything.
One day, as I sat alone in our empty house, thinking about having lunch with Daniel later, I stepped outside by myself.
When I tried to return, I couldn’t find my way home.
I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood, circling the same streets over and over, but I couldn’t recognize anything. I didn’t know which way to go. I couldn’t find home.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember the way back. Unconsciously, I tightened my grip around my left arm, desperately trying to hold myself together.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I just started running. Running and running. I tore through the alleyways at full speed, not knowing how long I’d be running down those endless streets.
I could hear my own ragged breathing, the panicked sound of my heart pounding in my chest, and the tears streaming down my face.
Until I collided with Daniel, who had been frantically searching for me.
He grabbed my shoulders, trying to calm me down.
I was crying uncontrollably, looking around in confusion, muttering, “Daniel, I can’t… I can’t find my way home…”
“I… I can’t go back, Daniel…”
“Why can’t I remember anything? What’s happening to me?”
I clung to him, my fingers digging into his clothes as all my emotions burst out in that single moment.
“Amber Jackson!”
His voice was stern as he stared at me.
“Calm down!”
I was startled into silence, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I’ll take you to see the doctor, okay?”
He bent down, gently picking me up onto his back, and without another word, he carried me to the hospital.
I knew he was hurting too. I knew he was worried.
But I had forgotten so many things… so many things…
“Preliminary tests show that the patient has early-onset Alzheimer’s, and it seems to be progressing.”
“That’s impossible! My sister is only 27 years old!”
I stared out the window, watching the birds chirping and flitting about, as if I couldn’t hear the conversation between Daniel and the doctor.
“Not only that,” the doctor continued, “but she’s also suffering from severe depression, likely triggered by a major traumatic event. Did something significant happen to her recently?”
I continued cradling my left arm, but my mind wandered to the thought that my birthday was just a month away. I wondered what Daniel would get me this year.
Cole Stevens never gave me anything on my birthday. He always combined it with the day we first met!
I smiled up at Daniel, reaching out with my right hand to poke his arm.
“Daniel, what are you going to get me for my birthday this year?”
I had forgotten that the day Cole and I first met was actually Sophia Harper’s birthday.
I had also forgotten that my own birthday had long passed.
As Daniel explained what had been happening lately to the doctor, he reached down to gently soothe me.
He gave me a sad smile, but tried to hide his emotions.
“Whatever you want, Amber. Your brother will get you anything you ask for.”
“The prognosis suggests this is a sudden condition. Early intervention and treatment might slow its progress, but we can’t guarantee recovery.”
“The most important thing is to keep her away from any triggers.”
After hearing the doctor’s advice, Daniel brought me home and immediately removed anything related to the orchestra or Cole Stevens from the house.
He stood tall and strong in front of me, like a tree.
But my eyes were clouded. I couldn’t see the path ahead of me, nor could I see any future at all.
“Open the door, it’s Cole Stevens.”
I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the door.
When I heard his voice, I glanced over at Daniel, who was in the kitchen cooking, and got up to open the door myself.
Cole stood lazily outside, his expression slightly impatient as he looked at me. He seemed irritated that I had taken so long to answer the door.
But I couldn’t really see what he was doing. All I knew was that this was the man I loved, and I should be happy to see him.
So, I smiled brightly and grabbed his arm with my right hand.
“Cole! You came to see me! What’s gotten into you?”
“I thought you were busy with work lately?”
Cole was caught off guard by my reaction, frowning as he looked down at me.
My left arm was in a cast, thick bandages wrapped around it. But I didn’t seem to notice. It just hung limply by my side.
He assumed that I was clinging to him, trying to win back his affection by playing this helpless act.
But he had no idea…
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“Mom, I’ve thought about it. I’m going abroad with you.”
A pause, then joy filled her voice. “Lola, that’s wonderful! I’ll arrange your visa right away. Spend time with your friends while you can. You won’t see them much after you leave.”
I nodded, glancing at a photo of two smiling kids in a fiery sunset.
“And don’t forget your uncle,” Mom added. “He’s been there for you all these years. Make sure to thank him.”
“I will, Mom,” I said softly, still looking at that sunset memory.
“I know, Mom. I’ll thank him properly.”
After hanging up, I stared at the photo—a sunset with two kids smiling. The older one was my uncle, Henry.
When I was six, my dad died in an accident, and my mom disappeared. It was Henry, only fourteen then, who took me in and raised me, despite all objections. He walked me to school every day, balancing his life around me.
How could I not fall for someone so caring, so steady?
I kept my feelings buried, knowing that voicing them might change everything.
Life felt stable—until that day.
I had just turned 18, and Henry cleared his schedule to celebrate with me. He was in high spirits, and by the time the guests left, he’d had a bit too much to drink.
As I helped him to his room, I glanced at his relaxed face, his cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly.
Without thinking, I leaned down and kissed him.
Henry’s eyes flew open, and he pushed me back. “Lola! Are you crazy? What are you doing?”
I steadied myself, heart pounding. This was it. No more hiding.
“Henry,” I said, meeting his shocked gaze. “I like you.”
“You’re insane, Lola! I’m your uncle! How could you?” Henry looked at me, disbelief etched across his face.
“But we’re not related by blood,” I replied calmly. “Henry,. We aren’t family by blood.”
His face darkened. “Lola, I’m eight years older than you. You’re only eighteen. You can’t tell the difference between family affection and love.”
“Henry, I know the difference,” I said firmly. “I’ve liked you for a long time. I’m an adult, and I know what I’m feeling.”
I’d never defied Henry before, and he looked at me, his face growing serious. “Lola, your feelings aren’t love. You’re just confused. You’re still too young to—”
I cut him off. “Henry, do you think I’m joking because of my age? Just wait. I’ll prove it.”
His eyes searched mine, almost helpless. “You’re crazy. Absolutely crazy…”
I don’t remember how that argument ended; I only know that every birthday since, I wished to be with Henry.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one—it was always the same wish. He always said I was stubborn, like a mule. And he was right.
But now, with my 22nd birthday a month away, my wish has changed.
This year, I decided to leave.
I decided to leave Henry Jones.
After confessing my love to Henry when I was eighteen, I’d done it again and again, despite his rejections.
“It’s okay,” I’d tell myself. “I have time. I’ll succeed eventually.”
But then everything changed.
Half a year ago, I got a call from across the ocean.
“It’s Mom,” I said, barely able to believe it.
She explained, “After the accident, someone rescued me. I was in ICU for a month. I lost my memory, married that person, and had a child.”
“Mom, I—”
“Recently, I got my memory back and I found you.”
She wanted me to move abroad with her, but I refused. Henry was too important to me. I hoped he’d accept my feelings one day—until three months ago.
That day, I waited for Henry to come home for dinner, but he walked in with a girl.
“Henry, who is she?” I managed to ask.
He looked at me calmly. “This is my girlfriend. You should call her aunt, based on seniority.”
The girl hit him playfully. “Aunt? That makes me sound old!”
She turned to me, smiling. “You must be Lola! Henry talks about you. Don’t call me aunt; just call me Mary. I’m the same age as you.”
My heart dropped.
“Same age?” I whispered, my heart sinking. Was I just too young?
While Mary changed, I couldn’t hold back. “Henry, did you get a girlfriend to make me give up? To provoke me?”
He looked at me coldly. “Lola, why are you being so sentimental? I made it clear before: I’m your uncle. We can’t be together.”
That night, Mary stayed over at the house.
I sat in the garden for half the night, staring at Henry’s room. Behind the curtains, I saw two figures entwined, kissing. When the light finally turned off, tears streamed down my face.
In that moment, I decided to give up on Henry.
The next morning, I packed my things and waited until he usually got up. I walked to his door and knocked.
After a moment, he opened the door, frowning. “What are you doing?”
I felt a bitter sting in my eyes. Ever since I confessed my love at eighteen, Henry had grown distant. He spoke coldly, stopped trying to make me happy, and no longer brought me my favorite cake. He even used work as an excuse to stay out late.
I knew he was avoiding me, hoping I’d back down. But how could I give up? I clung to him, acted sweetly, tried to show kindness, even as he became more indifferent.
“It’s time,” I told myself. “I need to let go.”
But even with that decision, my heart ached. “Why does this hurt so much?”
“Uncle.” My voice was dry and hoarse from the sleepless night.
Henry frowned at me. I hadn’t called him “uncle” since I confessed my love, thinking it would close the gap between us. But now, ready to give up, I returned to the beginning.
“What do you want?” he snapped. “Didn’t I tell you not to bother me?”
“I want to change rooms,” I replied.
Henry chose my room himself. It had great lighting, beautiful decor, and was right next to his. Too close for comfort.
When Henry was fourteen, he said, “Lola lives closest to me, so it’s convenient for me to take care of her.”
Now, he had someone else to care for, and I had to step back. It was better to give up my position than be kicked out later. I knew the future mistress of the Jones family was more important than the adopted daughter.
“If you want to change, just change,” he said impatiently, slamming the door in my face.
I moved to a corner room downstairs, next to an abandoned study filled with junk. During the move, Henry didn’t show up; he was likely too busy with his girlfriend.
After settling in, I called my mom. “Mom, I’ve thought about it. I’m going abroad with you.”
Now that I decided to go abroad, I had to complete the necessary paperwork. After submitting the application, I waited for the certificate.
During that time, Henry and I hardly spoke, only sharing awkward silence at the dinner table.
“It’s like we’re strangers,” I finally said one evening.
“Worse than strangers,” he replied, not looking up. “At least strangers acknowledge each other.”
I nodded, feeling the distance between us grow. We couldn’t even manage a simple conversation anymore.
Mary Angel moved into my old room, and I watched her come and go, a bitter smile on my face.
Why bother with separate rooms when they could just live together?
It was rare to see Mary Angel in the mornings, but today, there she was at the dinner table. I finished my meal quickly and stood up.
“I’m done,” I said, nodding to both of them.
As I walked out, I could feel Henry’s gaze on me, his discomfort palpable.
“Lola, what’s with the coldness?” he asked.
I didn’t turn back. “Just being sensible.”
“Where are you going? Let me take you. It’s raining outside,” Henry Jones said, surprising me after three years of avoidance since my confession.
I felt a flutter in my chest but quickly masked it. “No need. It’s Valentine’s Day. You two should enjoy your date. I’m just going to school to fill out some forms and will be back soon.”
Henry looked taken aback. “Valentine’s Day?”
I forced a smile. “Didn’t you get a big gift for Mary? Have a great holiday.”
“What are you talking about?” He frowned.
I shrugged, keeping my tone light. “I saw the news. The next head of the Jones won a jade bracelet worth millions at auction.”
God knows how heartbroken I felt seeing that news.
I recalled when I was seventeen. Henry asked, “Lola, you’ll be eighteen next year. What birthday gift do you want?”
I joked, “A bracelet, the kind in novels. A glass one will do.” I smiled, knowing no gift could compare to him.
Henry laughed and scratched my nose. “A glass bracelet? You’re quite greedy, little girl.”
…
He remembered. But it wasn’t for me.
“That’s a gift from me…” he started.
“Henry!” Mary interrupted, cutting him off.
“Henry Jones, you prepared a gift for me! What is it?” Mary asked, rising from the table and wrapping her arms around his.
Henry didn’t respond to my earlier question. “Then be careful,” he said, pulling Mary close before heading upstairs.
I felt the sting of reality: I was now an outsider.
Once my visa is approved, I’ll leave quickly and stop being a nuisance.
“Okay, uncle,” I replied quietly.
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My name is Mark Foster. I met my girlfriend, Jessica Monroe, back in college. It was a bit of a Cinderella story—though I wasn’t exactly a prince, Jessica really was the Cinderella of this tale.
Her parents ran a small breakfast shop in New York, selling donuts, coffee, and breakfast sandwiches. I had a habit of exercising in the mornings, and the campus cafeteria’s food was far from appealing.
So, I often grabbed breakfast from her parents’ shop off-campus. That’s where I first met Jessica, helping out in the family business.
She was beautiful, especially when her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat, giving her a delicate, almost fragile charm.
We soon discovered that we went to the same university, and I quickly pursued her. We dated for three years of our four years in college.
Jessica was a local girl with a younger brother, Damian, still in high school. Her parents had once worked in a factory but started selling breakfasts after they lost their jobs, trying to make ends meet.
My family, on the other hand, was from out of state, involved in business for generations. But for certain reasons, my parents insisted I never reveal our family’s true background to anyone.
Their plan for me was simple: after graduation, return home to take over the family business.
As graduation approached, I made yet another attempt to persuade Jessica to come with me. I pictured a life where we’d marry, settle down, and live happily ever after. I’d earn the money; she’d be the beautiful wife at my side.
I thought it was a practical and romantic idea. But Jessica disagreed.
Her reason was simple: her parents and brother were all here in New York.
What was I supposed to do?
Should we part ways and go our separate paths?
Or should I abandon the road my family laid out for me for the sake of three years of love?
Jessica was gentle, beautiful, and filial, a hardworking girl. I couldn’t bear to let her go.
In my youthful impulsiveness, I made a bold decision.
I would stay with Jessica and walk a new path with her.
My parents were furious, but my stubbornness left them no choice but to accept it.
Jessica, on the other hand, was thrilled. She said I had proved my love for her with my actions.
And I felt lucky to have found such pure love in this world.
But love couldn’t feed us. After the emotions faded, we faced the harsh reality.
Survival.
Fresh out of college, we had no experience. We struggled to find jobs, either scammed by shady recruiters or left waiting endlessly for callbacks from companies.
The streets were filled with Master’s and Ph.D. graduates. Our bachelor’s degrees didn’t mean much.
Still, we foolishly believed we’d land a good job eventually.
That is, until my wallet only had enough left to buy instant mac and cheese from an internet café.
Only then did I realize how right my parents had been all along.
To achieve dreams and live a happy life, a solid financial foundation was essential.
Jessica could always go home to eat when she was hungry, but what about me?
I couldn’t just shamelessly freeload at her house.
I started to reconsider things. It wasn’t just about landing a good job anymore.
After talking it over with Jessica, we decided to go in a different direction—starting our own business.
Why work for someone else when we could work for ourselves?
I thought Jessica’s family business wasn’t bad at all. The problem was that their customers were mainly college students, so when school was out, business plummeted.
After doing some market research, I suggested we open a new shop in a different location.
I had the perfect spot in mind—a residential area in the old part of town.
This area had several neighborhoods connected, mostly filled with retirees and working-class renters.
High foot traffic, cheap rent—perfect for a small diner.
Jessica’s parents agreed, but the problem was money.
We needed funds for the lease, renovations, and buying tables, chairs, and utensils.
Jessica’s parents had saved some money over the years, but they were hesitant to use it for expansion. They feared a new location wouldn’t do well.
Plus, Jessica’s brother, Damian, was set to take his SATs next year, and with his grades, a private school was the only option, which meant more money.
Considering all that, her parents’ support was limited to helping us physically with the new diner.
Left with no choice, I swallowed my pride and asked my family for $20,000 to use as startup capital.
When it came to renting the space, Jessica’s parents had a different idea.
They thought we should rent a small kitchen space and set up the tables and chairs outside to save on rent and renovation costs.
Their thinking was still stuck in the mindset of their university town business.
Most students didn’t care about dining in—they grabbed their food to go, heading back to their dorms or the library.
But this residential area was home to over ten thousand people, and there were already several breakfast places.
With similar menus and flavors, we needed something to set us apart.
So, I insisted we rent four adjacent storefronts, knock down the walls, and combine them.
We made the smallest space into the kitchen, while the others served as the dining area.
For the interior, I went with warm colors, focusing on cleanliness and simplicity rather than luxury.
We also standardized all the utensils.
Before opening, I did a lot of promotion, distributing flyers and advertising in community social media groups.
The $20,000 I got from my family dwindled down to just a few thousand.
Jessica’s parents weren’t thrilled. They thought I was wasting money.
But maybe hard work does pay off. On opening day, the place was packed.
We sold out of three large containers of coffee in less than an hour.
By 8 AM, when the office workers came by for breakfast, the kitchen was already empty.
That initial success gave me a lot of confidence.
I realized I had inherited my family’s business acumen.
I threw myself into learning the trade. People of different ages, genders, and even personalities all had different preferences for breakfast.
We expanded the menu, introduced loyalty rewards, and created promotions.
Within six months, we had earned back our initial investment.
Not only that, but we had also expanded from four to eight storefronts.
Before, it was just Jessica’s parents working in the kitchen, with Jessica and me waiting tables. Now, we had six employees, and we still couldn’t keep up with the demand.
Back when Jessica’s parents ran their shop near the university, they closed by 10 AM.
I introduced an all-day service model.
Who said diners had to serve only breakfast?
We sold sandwiches and coffee in the morning, soups and quick meals at lunch, and hired a chef to prepare home-style dishes for dinner.
Late at night, we served snacks for night shift workers.
In just six months, our little breakfast cart had turned into a full-fledged diner.
Daily revenue skyrocketed. Jessica’s family no longer needed to rely on their old breakfast business to get by.
“Who knew business could be done like this!” Jessica’s father exclaimed more than once.
As the business grew, we needed more structure.
The business license was in her dad’s name. Her mom was the co-owner, and Jessica naturally became the heir to the business.
It seemed like I was the only one not officially part of it, just someone helping out.
As for the $20,000 I had borrowed from my family, no one ever mentioned it again.
But that didn’t matter. I loved Jessica. How could true love be measured by money?
The more I thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. I shared my plan with Jessica.
Jessica didn’t know much about security systems, but when she heard it could make a lot of money, she immediately supported me.
She even urged me to get started as soon as possible, worried someone else might beat us to it.
No time to waste, I got to work immediately. The first step was market research.
For the next ten days, I visited every electronics store in Los Angeles that sold security systems, along with all the small retailers in the streets.
Besides learning about prices, brands, and suppliers, I also tried to understand the profit margins of the business.
During the day, I was constantly on the move. At night, I barely had time to rest, staying up late to cram as much information about security systems as I could online, like it was SAT prep all over again.
By the end of those ten days, I had lost five pounds.
But Jessica’s parents weren’t impressed. They thought I was neglecting the diner, running around doing “nothing important.”
When I finally completed a detailed business plan, I presented it to Jessica and her parents.
However, it was met with strong opposition.
Having tasted the success of the diner, Jessica’s parents’ ambitions had grown. They wanted to earn all the money in the world.
But their ambition far outweighed their courage.
According to my calculations, opening a security equipment store would require at least $50,000 in upfront capital.
Rent and renovations were minor costs. The bulk of the money would go toward inventory.
The price of a basic security camera ranged from a few hundred to several thousand dollars, but the necessary systems and equipment often started at $10,000.
The $50,000 I estimated was the bare minimum based on my research of supplier prices.
Jessica’s parents thought spending $50,000 on an unfamiliar industry was too risky.
What if the business failed? What if the equipment didn’t sell?
We’d be left with a pile of cameras and wires, which couldn’t be eaten or sold for scrap.
But no business is risk-free.
Even though I told them the profit margins were high—one successful deal could easily bring in double the cost—they were still too scared to take the plunge.
Seeing that I couldn’t convince her parents, I turned to Jessica.
I asked her if she was willing to stick with the diner for the rest of her life, or if she was ready to take a gamble with me and turn a small business into something bigger.
If we succeeded, our lives would change dramatically.
Of course, Jessica preferred the bigger dreams over the small ones.
So, she took it upon herself to persuade her parents.
In the end, after much effort from Jessica, her parents reluctantly agreed to invest $20,000.
As for the remaining $30,000, I’d have to figure that out on my own.
To be honest, I was pretty upset when I heard this.
Back when we started the diner, her parents were also reluctant to invest any money.
It was only because I got $20,000 from my family that we were able to open the diner at all.
Now that the diner was making money, they hadn’t even mentioned repaying that initial $20,000.
And now, when it came to the security business, they were only willing to invest $20,000.
Was this paying back the money from the diner, or was it a new investment?
“Mark, are you mad?” Jessica asked.
“My parents are getting old, and they’re cautious. Please don’t hold it against them, okay?”
“I’m the one who supports you, and I’m the one who will be with you for life. I love you!” Jessica said, wrapping her arms around my neck.
That “I love you” washed away all my frustration.
She was right. Jessica would be my partner for life, and everything I was doing was for our future.
I still needed $30,000, so I swallowed my pride and went back to my parents.
The reason was simple: I told them the $20,000 they had given me for the diner was lost.
They were upset, but they gave me the money.
With the startup funds in place, I immediately got to work.
I rented a small, 86-square-foot storefront under an electronics mall in Los Angeles.
The renovation didn’t need to be fancy—a fresh coat of paint, a big sign, two shelves, and a counter would do.
I left the paperwork and licensing details to Jessica.
Then, I boarded a train heading south.
According to my earlier research, all the security cameras and related equipment in the city came from a few factories in the southern states.
The electronics mall offered wholesale options, but they were still more expensive than buying directly from the source.
With limited funds, every penny counted.
In the early stages of starting a business, saving money by taking a day-long train ride seemed worth it.
Hard work, determination, and the willingness to endure hardship can indeed yield unexpected rewards.
When I arrived in Houston, I didn’t waste any time. I visited several factories in a row.
I compared prices and quality to get the best deal.
But these factories mostly dealt with national orders, shipping out entire truckloads at a time.
Someone like me, buying such a small quantity, wasn’t even on their radar.
After hitting several dead ends, I started to lose hope. I wondered if I should shift my focus and look for smaller distributors.
Then, an unexpected encounter changed everything.
As I was arguing with the security guard at the entrance of the largest factory, trying to convince him to let me in, a Maybach pulled up behind me.
“Mark?”
The window rolled down, and a middle-aged man called out, sounding uncertain.
“Do I know you?” I looked closely at his face but didn’t recognize him.
“Is your dad James Foster?” he asked.
I nodded. It seemed like he knew my father.
“I thought so! You look just like him. Get in the car,” he said, pushing the door open for me.
I wasn’t worried. This wasn’t the type of place where people got kidnapped or trafficked, so I got in the car without hesitation.
After chatting for a while, I found out that this man, Mr. Carter, was the owner of the factory.
Back in the day, he had been business partners with my father, and they had a close relationship.
Although they no longer worked together, they remained friends and were part of the same business association.
When Mr. Carter found out I was there to discuss prices, he immediately called his secretary.
Right there, he asked her for the factory’s base prices and then offered me the equipment at 30% off the wholesale rate.
It wasn’t free, but it was close.
“Mr. Carter, this seems too generous. You have costs too,” I said, feeling a bit guilty. The discount was too steep.
Plus, this factory produced some of the top security equipment in the country.
“Mark, the amount you need wouldn’t even cover our daily production losses. No need to be polite.”
“To be honest, I still make a small profit at that price. It’s just a bit lower than usual.”
“I’ve heard from your dad that you’re starting your own business, so consider this my support for you,” Mr. Carter said casually.
Since he had put it that way, I accepted the offer.
After all, the lower the cost, the higher the profit.
I could already see success smiling at me from just around the corner.
The security equipment store finally opened—no grand opening, no band, just a simple firecracker to mark the occasion.
The tiny storefront was so small that two people could barely walk side by side, but it held my biggest dreams to date.
One thing bothered me though: the name on the business license.
Before I left, I told Jessica to put either her name or mine on it, but when I looked, it was her dad’s.
“I don’t really understand this stuff, so I asked my dad to handle it. Maybe he wrote the wrong name by accident. If you’re unhappy, we can always change it back,” Jessica explained when I questioned her.
I wasn’t thrilled, but there was nothing I could do about it.
For one, I didn’t want Jessica to feel bad, and for another, I didn’t want to upset her dad.
One day, he’d be my father-in-law, and she’d be my wife. No matter how annoyed I was, I couldn’t show it.
In the first few days of the store’s opening, business was slow.
Security systems aren’t like food; everyone needs to eat, but not everyone needs surveillance installed. Plus, there were already hundreds of retailers, big and small, in the city selling similar products.
For days, we had no customers.
After a while, Jessica began to worry.
“Mark, is this business even going to work? It’s been three days, and we haven’t sold a single thing,” she said, her eyes fixed on the door, her voice tinged with anxiety for the hundredth time.
“Every new business starts like this. Once we build a reputation, you’ll be so busy you won’t know what to do,” I reassured her, though I wasn’t feeling all that confident myself.
Then, finally, our first client walked through the door.
It was a property management company from a local apartment complex.
One of the buildings in their complex needed a complete replacement of its surveillance system.
Each unit had three elevators, with a camera in each. The building had 28 floors, and each floor needed cameras in the elevator lobby, the hallways, and the fire exits.
In total, for the three-unit building, including the lobby, they needed 264 cameras. Plus, they required an entire surveillance system to go with it.
The customer had just come from the electronics mall, where the lowest quote he got was $260 per camera, and the system would cost $12,000. Altogether, replacing the cameras would cost nearly $80,000.
The wholesale price for cameras was around $100, but with Mr. Carter backing me, I was able to get them for under $30 each, and the system was priced at $4,000.
If I took this job, my total cost would be just under $12,000.
“Flat rate, $60,000, and I’ll replace everything. Plus, I’ll guarantee the system for three years,” I told the client after doing some quick math.
“No one in the city can beat that price.”
The client hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, but I need an invoice for $70,000.”
I understood what he meant by the extra $10,000. It was a bit of creative accounting.
“Not a problem. I’ll cover the additional tax on that,” I said smoothly.
“Great. We’ve got over 40 buildings in our complex, and we’ll be upgrading all the surveillance systems over the next couple of years. Let’s plan for a long-term partnership,” he said with a grin and handed me a deposit.
Just like that, we had our first sale, and in less than ten minutes, I had secured a deal with four times the profit over my costs.
I checked my inventory and realized we had just enough stock to cover the job.
I immediately contacted Mr. Carter to order another shipment and set out to hire installers for the job.
The installers quoted me $500 a day, and it would take six days to complete the three-unit building.
I thought that was too long and could hurt future business relationships, so I asked them to hire a second person and finish in three days.
One man for six days cost $3,000, and two men for three days would still be $3,000. It seemed like a good deal to me.
But the lead installer got defensive, insisting he could do it alone in three days, but it would require overtime—$1,000 a day.
I sensed something fishy, but since this was my first big job, I didn’t push back too hard. I just made it clear I only cared about the timeline, not the headcount.
Maybe it was the extra $10,000 on the invoice, but the client even had a truck sent from the property management office that night to pick up the equipment.
By the next morning, the installation had begun, and I made an excuse to visit the site to “supervise.”
I had always thought installing surveillance systems was a highly technical job.
But after watching for a while, I realized I had overestimated it.
As long as you understood basic wiring, could handle a screwdriver and drill, you could do it.
The installer I hired finished the wiring for one unit in just about two hours.
Replacing the cameras was even easier. He just removed the old one, connected the wires to the new one, and mounted it back on the bracket. It didn’t even take ten minutes per camera.
And that was him working slow because I was there. Otherwise, it would have been even quicker.
I took out my phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of the installation process to study later.
Since we were just starting out, I was focused on saving as much as possible. If I could learn to install the systems myself, I could save the $3,000 installation fee.
The first deal was a huge success. Low prices, great quality—it quickly attracted a customer base that cared about getting value for their money.
The business started growing, and fast.
There were large contracts, like installing surveillance for entire shopping malls, which required thousands of cameras and multiple systems, earning tens of thousands of dollars per job.
Then there were smaller jobs, like putting cameras in homes or small shops—just one or two cameras and a simple recording system, with profits of only a few hundred dollars.
But I treated all customers the same, regardless of the size of the order. Over time, the store’s reputation grew, and word-of-mouth brought in even more business. There were times when I was juggling four or five jobs at once.
During that period, I was unbelievably busy.
Jessica handled the store while I spent my days riding around on an electric bike with a toolbox, installing cameras for clients.
Some days, I worked from morning until noon the next day, only stopping for a quick sip of water, a bite of mac and cheese, or a cigarette to keep going.
I did all this to save on hiring workers.
I kept up this grueling pace for an entire year.
Eventually, I couldn’t handle it anymore. There was just too much work, and my body couldn’t keep up.
After discussing it with Jessica, we decided to start hiring workers for the installation jobs. At that point, the labor cost was negligible for us.
In fact, the discounts we gave to loyal customers were several times higher than the cost of hiring help.
In just one year, that tiny 86-square-foot store had netted over $400,000 in profits.
That was far more than Jessica’s parents ever made running their diner.
Of course, with money comes jealousy.
Our little store had caught the attention of many competitors in the business. After all, I had taken a lot of their customers.
But there was nothing they could do about it. I had Mr. Carter’s factory giving me rock-bottom prices, and that combination of quality and low cost was unbeatable.
Even if they didn’t like it, there wasn’t much they could do. We were all independent distributors, and I had all the proper paperwork. My business was legit.
Low prices? That was my choice. High quality? That was my responsibility to my customers.
So, all they could do was grumble behind my back. No one dared to smash my shop or throw paint on the windows.
When a business is booming, it means the money’s rolling in. And with that, Jessica’s parents, who hadn’t shown much interest in me for the past year, suddenly warmed up to me.
They sold their old house in the lower-income neighborhood and bought a new apartment.
Although it was on a mortgage, their diner business made it easy to cover the payments.
They threw a dinner party at their new place, with Jessica at my side, just to celebrate and praise me.
A few drinks in, her parents couldn’t stop singing my praises, saying how capable I was, how I’d turned a small surveillance equipment shop into a business that earned hundreds of thousands.
Once they were done complimenting me, they began lamenting how tough the restaurant business had become.
They said the diner wasn’t doing as well as before, and they had to let go of two employees to cut costs.
I could guess why their business was declining.
In history, there’s a saying about mediocre rulers: “Not enough vision to start a business, and not enough skill to maintain it.”
Jessica’s parents lacked both the boldness to expand and the ability to maintain what they had.
To be blunt, they were just too stingy.
They focused too much on immediate profit, still stuck in their old mentality from when they sold food to college students.
Though I hadn’t been to the diner in a year, I learned plenty from my conversations with Jessica.
For example, they started using low-quality, cheap ingredients. They scrapped the customer loyalty program. They even outsourced food preparation to another restaurant.
Running a diner is about service, and customer satisfaction is key.
If you sacrifice quality to save on costs, you lose your customers’ trust and loyalty.
As we talked, Jessica’s dad brought up something surprising.
He suggested they close the diner and go into business with me.
To show his sincerity, he offered to help pay for a larger store and cover the renovation costs.
But I didn’t agree.
Even if the diner’s business had slowed, it was still profitable—more so than most diners in the area.
Closing it down would be a waste.
Plus, they didn’t understand anything about security systems. They didn’t know how to sell them or how to install them, so what could they even contribute?
As for expanding to a larger store, that was unnecessary.
Our current store served as a showroom and sales space. It had nothing to do with size.
A bigger storefront didn’t guarantee more sales, and a smaller one didn’t mean fewer customers.
Success was about the person running the business.
Of course, I could guess their real motive—they wanted in on the profits.
“Dad, Mom, you don’t know anything about this industry, and you won’t be much help,” Jessica said, jumping in before I could figure out how to turn them down.
“Let Mark focus on growing the business. When we’ve made the big money, you two can just sit back and enjoy life.”
She really was the woman I loved. It was like she could read my mind.
I held Jessica’s hand, grateful, and silently vowed to make the business bigger and better.
“Mr. Monroe, Mrs. Monroe, Jessica and I have been together for several years now. I want to marry her,” I said, taking advantage of the warm moment.
“I promise I’ll treat her well, and I’ll care for you both like my own parents.”
“If you’re okay with it, I’ll arrange for my parents to meet with you soon so we can discuss the wedding.”
“I’ll follow whatever traditions or requests you have.”
I figured it was the perfect time to bring up marriage. After all, only through marriage would we truly become one family.
“No way!”
Before Jessica’s parents could respond, Jessica stood up abruptly, visibly agitated.
“Why?” Jessica, her parents, and I asked in unison.
It was clear that Jessica’s parents were pleased with the idea of having me as their son-in-law. I never expected that it would be Jessica who would say no.
“Mark, we’re both still young. There’s no need to rush into marriage—we should focus on our careers first. Besides, both your parents and mine are getting older, and neither of our families is doing that well financially. We need to work harder and make more money to support them in their retirement,” she explained, her tone softening.
“And when I marry you, I want it to be a grand wedding. I want the whole world to know that I’m the happiest bride alive,” she added with a smile. “Remember that dream I told you about? It hasn’t come true yet, and I’m still waiting for you.”
Realizing she had overreacted, Jessica quickly reached for my hand, her voice filled with affection.
Whatever shock or frustration I had felt moments before instantly faded.
Jessica was a young woman with her own hopes for romance and happiness. And I had told her that my parents were just regular retirees, so her concerns about our finances were understandable.
Marriage is a decision between two people. I couldn’t just think about myself—I had to respect her wishes too.
Our current security equipment business mainly served residential complexes and commercial buildings. If we wanted to take things to the next level, we needed to expand into other sectors, like government contracts.
Municipalities require massive amounts of surveillance equipment every year—for highways, parks, public squares…
Any non-profit public space that had visible security cameras? Those installations were funded by the city.
If our regular business was like selling vegetables, then landing a government contract would be like serving up prime rib.
Securing just one government deal would be worth three years of our regular profits.
But government contracts are usually tied up with pre-established suppliers. Why would they give me the job?
I remembered something a contractor told me when I was installing security systems in a shopping mall.
“Projects don’t come to you—you have to go after them.”
So, I started hustling. I visited every relevant office, built connections, and sought out anyone who could help.
I took people out to lunch, bought drinks, sang karaoke—whatever it took to build relationships.
During that time, Jessica and I would sometimes go four or five days without seeing each other.
As her boyfriend, I felt guilty for not spending more time with her. But Jessica was incredibly understanding. She never complained about my busy schedule. Instead, she encouraged me to prioritize my career. She said she admired ambitious men, and my hard work today would lay the foundation for our future together.
At that moment, I felt incredibly lucky. Jessica was so considerate.
To marry a woman like her? I’d have no regrets for the rest of my life.
Because our prices were low and our quality high, plus a few under-the-table deals that couldn’t be openly discussed, I managed to secure several large municipal contracts all at once.
It’s no exaggeration to say that the money from these contracts would be enough for Jessica and me to live comfortably for the rest of our lives.
But in the face of money, can human nature really resist temptation?
The first ones to get carried away were Jessica’s parents.
When they found out I had made millions in just a few months, they couldn’t sit still.
Despite my warnings, they sold off the family diner.
Then, they started putting ideas in Jessica’s head, telling her that young people shouldn’t hold onto too much money—it could make them lazy and indulgent.
They encouraged her to transfer part of our money into their names for “safe-keeping.”
Soon after, Jessica developed a taste for luxury goods.
Clothes, jewelry, handbags—it didn’t matter whether they suited her or not. If it was from a high-end brand, she had to have it.
While I was out running the business, she stopped showing up at the store altogether. She hired a sales assistant to manage it, spending her days shopping and getting beauty treatments with her so-called girlfriends.
She collected membership cards for spas, added a bunch of personal trainers and beauty consultants to her Instagram, and spent money like it was going out of style.
At this rate, the money I was making couldn’t keep up with her spending. The account was quickly running dry.
I realized I couldn’t stay stagnant. I had to keep growing the business, or my earnings wouldn’t be enough to sustain Jessica and her family’s extravagant lifestyle.
The next step? Start a company, build an empire, and make it bigger and better.
Up until now, we’d been running a small shop selling security equipment to homeowners and municipalities, but our market was limited to the city.
If I wanted to expand, I needed to start a company—grow the business to cover the entire state, region, or even the country.
But starting a company wasn’t easy.
Especially a business that was as specialized as ours. We’d need to nail down the right location, hire skilled staff, and plan out a proper business strategy. And the startup costs would be no small amount.
Looking at our bank account, we barely had enough left to rent a small office space.
Where was I supposed to get the rest of the money?
I regretted not reigning in Jessica’s spending earlier.
Asking my family for more money was out of the question.
The last two times, I’d convinced my parents to give me money under the guise of funding a startup. They had made it clear: the $500,000 was for me to try my hand at business. If I succeeded, I wouldn’t need to ask for more. If I failed, it would mean I wasn’t cut out for entrepreneurship, and I’d have to go back home to learn the family business.
Either way, they weren’t going to give me another cent.
Jessica’s parents had taken a significant chunk of our money when they convinced her to transfer it into their names.
If I could get that money back, we’d be set.
But knowing how stingy her parents were, there was no way they’d hand it over willingly.
After wrestling with it for a while, I decided to give it a shot, even though I wasn’t hopeful.
As expected, Jessica’s parents flatly refused.
They claimed they had invested the money in some financial products that couldn’t be liquidated anytime soon.
I didn’t believe a word of it.
Jessica’s parents were the stingiest people I’d ever met. They valued their money more than anything. If it weren’t for the fact that the bank was backed by the government and offered interest, they’d probably keep their cash stuffed in their pockets 24/7.
The idea that they’d risk their money on an investment? Impossible.
Left with no other option, I turned to Jessica.
After all, she was the one who had transferred the money to her parents without telling me in the first place.
At first, she didn’t want to get involved, knowing full well how difficult her parents could be.
But I laid out our current situation for her.
If we didn’t expand and push for growth, our little security store would only make enough to sustain her current lifestyle.
And with technology advancing at such a rapid pace, there was always the risk that we’d get left behind by the market.
The only way to solve these problems was to start a company.
I’ll admit, there was some fear-mongering in what I said, but I had no choice.
Jessica had changed. She was no longer the humble, hardworking, understanding girl I had met in college.
Now, she didn’t care if I was exhausted, or how the store was doing. All that mattered to her was how much more money was going into her account.
I’d even questioned whether it was worth staying in this relationship anymore.
But after all these years, it wasn’t something I could just throw away over a bit of dissatisfaction.
More importantly, I wasn’t ready to give up.
I had invested too much in this relationship, and I wasn’t about to walk away without a fight.
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The hurricane was on its way, but my mom insisted on opening the windows to let some air in.
I told her it was dangerous and begged her not to.
Yet, in the middle of the night, while I was asleep, she secretly opened the balcony doors and windows.
In an instant, the glass doors shattered, and the hurricane stormed into the living room.
I was asleep on the couch when the wind picked me up half a meter into the air.
I begged my mom to pull me back.
But she, afraid I’d drag her down with me, kicked me away.
“Don’t blame your mom for being ruthless. Once you’re dead, your house and money will all belong to your brother!”
The hurricane swept me out of the 18th floor, and I died instantly when I hit the ground.
My mom turned to my dad and brother, cooking a pot of Maryland Blue Crabs to celebrate. She stubbornly muttered:
“If she had just agreed to open the windows earlier, none of this would’ve happened.”
She and Dad took all my savings, gave my house to my brother as his new wedding home, and drained me of every last bit of value.
When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn.
Reborn three hours before the hurricane hit.
My mom was already on her way, dragging the family along with their luggage, heading to me.
“Sweetheart, come pick us up! The wind outside is crazy!”
0
“Come pick us up! The wind out here is wild!”
On the other side of the video call, my mom stood at the entrance of the Atlanta Amtrak Station.
Her voice, mixed with the howling wind, beat against my eardrums.
My calf suddenly cramped, and I was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.
In my previous life, I fell to my death from the 18th floor.
Back then, the hurricane hit.
My mom insisted on opening the windows to air out the house and, in the middle of the night, snuck out and opened the balcony doors.
The floor-to-ceiling windows shattered, and shards of glass scattered all over the living room.
The hurricane, with winds up to Category 5, burst into the room. While I was asleep on the couch, completely unguarded, I was tossed half a meter into the air.
My mom cowered behind the couch, staring at me in terror.
Neighbors began to wake up one after another, their lights flickering on in the dark.
I didn’t have time to question why, even though I had triple-checked and locked the windows before bed, they were now wide open.
All I could do was cling desperately to the balcony door frame, screaming for my mom, who was hiding nearby.
“Mom! Help me—!”
The rain lashed against the windows, soaking my cotton pajamas, and the icy water dripped onto my eyelids, making me shiver uncontrollably.
But not only did my mom not help, she kicked me away.
“Get off me! Don’t drag me down with you!”
I stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief.
The sharp pain radiating from my fingers hammered into my brain, reminding me that this nightmare was all too real.
My mom kicked me again, venting years of pent-up anger:
“You’ve only been giving us $500 a month for household expenses! Don’t think I don’t know you’re making $3,000!
“Your brother needs a down payment for his house, and you refuse to help him. I didn’t raise such an ungrateful daughter!”
It felt like someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed.
My mom had always prided herself on treating my brother and me equally, never favoring one over the other.
But now, for the first time, I was hearing her true thoughts…
Lightning flashed across the sky.
Her face twisted into an expression of rage I had never seen before.
“You couldn’t even let your brother stay here for a few days, huh? Fine. Don’t blame me for being heartless.
“If you die, your house and money will all go to your brother!”
She kicked me again, this time with such force that she nearly slipped in the rain.
There was a sickening crack.
My fingers twisted and broke, forcing me to release my grip on the door frame.
“Mom…”
I was swept up by the hurricane, my white pajamas billowing in the wind, flapping like a sail.
“Oh my God, she’s going to fall!”
Cries of panic echoed from the building.
A neighbor opened a window, reaching out to grab me, but their fingertips barely grazed the wet fabric of my clothes.
“Thud—”
A heavy, dull sound.
My blood splattered like a web, spreading across the pavement, mixing with the rain as it flowed into the drains.
The last thing I saw before everything went dark was my mom, standing on the 18th floor, looking down at me with a cold, indifferent glance.
“Sweetheart?”
My mom’s voice pulled me back to the present.
In the blurry video call, her face, creased with wrinkles, twisted into a fake, calculating smile.
“Hurry and come pick us up! The wind at the Atlanta Amtrak Station is crazy! Big cities sure are wild!”
I snapped back to reality, my voice cold.
“I already told you—I’m busy with work. You shouldn’t have come.
“Either get back on the train or find a hotel. I’m not hosting you.”
02
I hung up the phone and immediately turned the car around.
Watching the GPS show the station getting farther and farther away, I finally exhaled in relief.
My brother, Emerson, had failed his exams and spent the last two years doing nothing. My parents used their connections to get him into Crestview Prep Academy in Atlanta.
This time, they came to me because they wanted Emerson to live with me while he retook his exams, expecting me to take care of his meals and everything else.
But I’m at a crucial stage in my career, and with Atlanta’s real estate prices so high, there’s no way my small Midtown condo could house two people. So, I refused and told them Emerson had to stay in the dorms.
But my mom started complaining, saying I wasn’t giving enough for household expenses, and accusing me of not helping Emerson buy a house for his wedding. She called me selfish and ungrateful.
And so, a simple disagreement became the spark that led my mom to kill me during the hurricane.
The radio in the car crackled to life:
[“A super hurricane has made landfall in the Gulf Coast, with maximum winds reaching Category 5. This is the strongest fall hurricane to hit the U.S. since 1949. All citizens are urged to take precautions.”]
Without hesitation, I headed straight for the Marietta Farmer’s Market.
This time, my parents hadn’t given me any warning they were coming to Atlanta.
In my last life, I wasn’t prepared at all.
When the hurricane hit, the four of us were crammed into my tiny condo, and within two days, we had eaten through all the food I had stocked.
This time, I stormed into the market, buying potatoes and cabbage that would last a while, along with frozen seafood and hot pot ingredients. I also grabbed several cases of fruit and drinks, stuffing the entire trunk of the car.
Finally, I stopped by a restaurant and ordered a ton of food.
“Beef brisket, spicy chicken, pork belly… hurry up and pack it all to-go!”
The takeout boxes were stacked like a mountain, filling the back seat of the car.
While I waited, my phone buzzed with nonstop calls from my parents.
“Sweetheart, we’ve come all this way! How could you send us back?”
“Ivy, we traveled across the country to see you, and this is how you treat us? Raising you was a waste!”
“Yeah, Ivy, how could you be so heartless? Mom and Dad came all this way just for you. Don’t you feel guilty?”
My mom sent a voice message too, sounding pitiful:
“Sweetie, I brought you your favorite homemade eggs. At least let me drop them off for you. I’m not here with any bad intentions.”
In the picture, the eggs were cracked, the yolk leaking through the red plastic bag.
I chuckled bitterly to myself.
Love is a fickle thing.
Where there’s money, there’s love.
Emerson does nothing at home, yet he always gets the newest iPhone every year, wears expensive sneakers, and lives better than I do.
I may earn $3,000 a month from my tech job, but after taxes, my mortgage, and renovation loans, nearly $2,000 goes to the bank. And with my mom asking for $500 a month, I barely get by.
I sighed, blocked all three of them on WeChat, and used the restaurant’s Wi-Fi to download TV shows and movies.
I remembered the hurricane would knock out the power, and the whole Brookstone Heights Subdivision would be without electricity for days.
I still had about an hour and a half before the hurricane hit.
When I got home, ready to haul the groceries in with a dolly, I noticed something strange.
The doormat was wet.
Something wasn’t right.
Sure enough.
The moment I opened the door, I saw it.
The room was soaked. Several umbrellas, dripping with dirty water, were scattered around the entryway.
Emerson had kicked off his socks, his filthy feet sprawled across my cream-colored bed, lying carelessly beside my underwear.
Dad was chain-smoking, cigarette butts littered the floor, with burn marks scorched into the carpet.
And my mom was rifling through my fridge, slabs of raw beef spread across the floor next to her.
When she noticed me, she turned and smiled casually.
“Ivy, you’re back! I noticed you had some beef in the fridge, so I’ll cook it up for your brother later!”
03
I snapped at them, “How did you get into my house? Didn’t I tell you to go back home?”
Emerson smirked and let out a small chuckle.
“Mom already found out where you live. Besides, you should know what I do for a living.”
I took a deep breath.
For the past two years since graduating high school, Emerson had been working as a locksmith’s apprentice, so he had no trouble picking my lock and getting into my apartment.
“This is illegal. I’ll call the cops!”
But before I could act, my mom slammed her hand down on my phone.
“We’re family! What’s with all the drama? I told you we were coming, didn’t I? Look, I even brought you some eggs from home.”
She held up a few large bags with a triumphant smile, showing off the eggs, pickled vegetables, and some homemade bread that was so stale it felt like it had been sitting out for weeks.
But while she was pinching pennies with homemade food, she had no problem raiding my fridge for the good stuff—salmon, beef, seafood—all gifts from friends, things I barely allowed myself to touch.
The contrast was heartbreaking.
My mom looked around my apartment, critiquing everything as usual.
“Ivy, this pink bedspread is ridiculous. Toss it out and get something your brother can use!
“And he’s staying with you for the next year, so you’d better take good care of him.
“He’s still growing! Buy more salmon and seafood for him, okay?”
Listening to her rambling, my fists clenched as my thoughts raced.
The hurricane was coming soon. Even if I called the police, they wouldn’t make it in time. It was clear: staying here wasn’t an option.
I forced a smile at the chaos around me.
“Okay, Mom.”
I had already given them chances. I wasn’t going to stop what was coming.
After all, a couple of deaths during a hurricane was just normal, right?
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In our tenth year as secret lovers, Charles still treats me like a bitch.
He only stayed with me for the night and hurried back to his and his wife’s home at daybreak.
I thought he was pretending to be in love, until I smashed a bottle of wine on his wife’s head and he went crazy.
That slap in the face wiped out the last bit of my conscience.
Charles, are you ready for our revenge?
Charles slapped me.
He hit me so hard that my head tilted to the side, my ears were buzzing, and my head was spinning.
I slowly squatted down holding on to the wall, and there was gold falling from the corners of my eyes. They were the earrings I bought yesterday.
But the person who put it on me was now holding Zoe with a nervous look on his face, checking her wound.
I almost laughed out loud at Charles’ sickening hypocrisy.
He and Zoe have been married for ten years.
I was also his secret lover for ten years.
For ten years, he has been responsive to my requests and doted on me, with his only request being that I not disturb his wife Zoe.
Not only did I not listen to him, I also provocatively smashed a bottle of wine on Zoe’s head.
The scarlet wine gushed out.
Zoe is not pretty and is a bit dull. Even after I bullied her in the face, she just stood there at a loss.
It was not until Charles rushed in and hugged her that she spoke timidly.
“Charles, who is she?”
Charles followed her and saw me in the corner with an unpleasant expression.
“A mad woman.”
The side of my face that was hit started to feel hot, and I watched silently as he embraced Zoe and walked out the door.
The gentleness he showed when he lowered his head really made him look like a good husband.
I felt so lowly that I waited until they were far away before I patted my butt and got up.
But as soon as I went out, I saw a figure standing at the corner.
Charles is good-looking, tall and handsome. He has always been the focus of the crowd since he was a child. It’s no wonder that Zoe and I are so fascinated by him.
He walked over, his outline gradually becoming clearer in the dim corridor, looming in front of me, and bent down to kiss me.
His kiss was filled with the scent of roses, Zoe’s favorite perfume, and I suddenly felt nauseous and pushed him away.
How did he do it?
He was comforting his shivering wife just now, but he turned around and kissed his lover with lust.
“Stop it.”
He said.
Charles doesn’t know how to coax people. Countless times when I had quarrels with him, he would just say this in a light tone.
“Sia, stop it.”
But I am not his obedient wife, I am a goblin who throws himself at his expense.
At first, I was really desperate, so I jumped into his car on a cold rainy night and seduced him.
I know that he just got engaged to the daughter of the Miller family and that he is worth over 100 million.
While I was lying on the cold ground, I was still calculating how much money I could extort when I heard someone opening the car door.
The leather shoes stepped on the rain, and the splashes looked like little crowns.
I laughed for no apparent reason, and it took me a long time to look up and see Charles holding an umbrella.
After that day I had two jobs, ostensibly as Charles’ assistant but actually as his lover.
Charles is a good man and very generous.
In the past, I could earn less than 5,000 dollars after working for three months, but now Charles can make hundreds of thousands of dollars with just a wave of his hand.
But I have been his lover for ten years, and he still treats me like a bitch.
Charles only stayed at my place overnight.
He dressed and got out of bed before daybreak, hurrying back to his and Zoe’s home.
He said he was going back to make breakfast for Zoe, but the auntie at home didn’t cook her breakfast, so she refused to eat and became so hungry that she had a stomachache.
Without exception.
Even though I know that Charles might have to pretend to be nice to Zoe because he is concerned about the business cooperation with the Miller family.
But until Charles completely took over the Miller family’s business, he still insisted on making breakfast for Zoe.
I can’t lie to myself anymore.
I’ve gone crazy, pretended to be sick, and thrown a tantrum, but nothing could stop him from going back to Zoe.
He would just say to me, Sia, stop it.
Then he lowered his head and kissed me, passing by like a gust of wind.
When I got home, there was still the wine I hadn’t finished on the table.
The slightly sweet aroma of wine filled the air. Charles took off his coat and went to the kitchen to get some ice cubes to put on my face.
“Aren’t you going to coax your wife?”
I stared at his drooping long eyelashes and said casually.
“She is much more obedient than you.”
The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat. The warm yellow light cast a shadow on us. I listened to his breathing and suddenly felt bored.
Ten years.
I have spent ten years of my time and energy on Charles. I thought he would become softer than before, but I didn’t expect his heart to be still cold and hard.
“Let’s separate,” I said.
His hand against my cheek paused for a moment, and his calm eyes looked straight at me.
I hate this expression of his the most. He is so arrogant, cold and heartless. In an instant, it brings me back to that rainy night thirteen years ago.
My whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. I shook off his hand and turned my head away, hiding my embarrassment in the shadows.
Charles just thought I was going crazy.
He was used to me threatening to break up with him whenever I was unhappy, but in the end he would just give me some money to get rid of it.
Very easy to coax.
Charles still stayed at my place at night. He held me in his arms and slept soundly, with the moonlight flowing through his hair like the tide.
I have been looking at his eyebrows and his eyes for a full ten years, and every time I describe them, I feel hatred deep in my bones.
A slight vibration interrupted my thoughts.
Charles’s cell phone was on, with only one word “read” on the screen.
“– Hello?”
I picked up the phone.
The hurried tone of voice on the other end suddenly died down, and after a long while, Zoe’s trembling voice was heard.
“You, you are… Sia?”
I hummed softly.
“…Is Charles there with you? Can you ask him to answer the phone? I, I think I’m having a miscarriage…”
I looked back helplessly with the phone in my hand and met Charles’s gaze, who still looked a little confused.
After hearing what Zoe said, his expression changed.
He snatched the phone away, his voice filled with suppressed anger, but he was talking to me.
“Why are you answering the phone? Don’t you think it’s not exciting enough for her?”
He gripped my wrist so hard that it almost broke my bones.
I was shivering, little by little, and even the blood in my heart was running cold.
I saw him quickly put on his clothes and rush out, the anxiety on his face was like a flame burning my vision.
I collapsed on the ground, smiled bitterly, and looked down to see the hideous red mark on my wrist.
I remember that when I had my first miscarriage, I also made a phone call and called Charles back from the villa where he was cooking for Zoe.
At that time, I was even more cruel. I sat on the sofa and watched indifferently a pool of blood gushing out.
Only when he was sure that the child could not be saved did he call Charles.
The anxiety on his face when he arrived was exactly the same as before.
It was as if he divided his love equally between me and Zoe.
But how can one heart love two people?
He is hypocritical and pretentious. He can’t let go of Zoe, nor can he let go of me.
I was sleepy and cold, so I curled up on the carpet and fell asleep. When the sky started to grow light, there was still no sound outside the door.
Charles won’t be coming back.
I sat in the huge house and looked around, only to find that there were so many traces of Charles in this house.
The cups on the island were the couple cups we picked out together. Charles scoffed at such childish things, but he still drank from the childish Rogue Rabbit porcelain cup.
In the refrigerator, half is filled with his wine and the other half is filled with my calcium milk. He laughed at my behavior, but he would silently replenish it every time after drinking the milk.
There is also a whole wall of perfumes he collected for me, and a ring design he drew for me personally…
The phone lit up, and the message I had been waiting for finally arrived.
It’s a photo sent by Zoe.
Charles’ handsome profile was buried in the snow-like blanket, one hand tightly holding her pale and slender hand.
The smile on her face was gentle and peaceful, and she looked straight at me through the screen.
“I told Charles that you scared me into having a miscarriage.”
Children have always been Charles’ concern.
He found it troublesome, but he had no choice but to do without it. After all, his business empire still needed a legitimate heir.
Charles is a typical rich second generation.
He was spoiled by his family since he was young, and is good at smoking, fighting, and racing.
It was not until something went wrong and his family settled the matter that he turned over a new leaf and took over the family business.
But Charles also has a younger brother born to his stepmother, who is ten years younger than him and will soon be able to stand on his own.
That’s right, the two of them are like water and fire, and they are bound to fight to the death.
Charles’ father favors his youngest son and is always strict with his eldest son.
As luck would have it, several major partners withdrew their investments at this time.
Charles was so overwhelmed that he was busy until late at night and could only come back occasionally.
When Charles’ father saw that his career was in trouble, he intended to let his youngest son gradually take over the company.
He argued for this for a long time before his father finally gave in.
He can have the company, but Charles must have an heir first.
After all, he is already in his thirties and still has no successor, which makes people wonder if Charles has some hidden illness.
If this is true, the company will naturally be inherited by the younger brother. After Charles dies, the younger brother will inherit it anyway.
I had a miscarriage a year ago.
And Zoe, who had just been hit on the head by a wine bottle by me, had a miscarriage out of fright.
God is not on Charles’ side.
I almost applauded.
I thought Charles would have to stay with Zoe in the hospital for a long time, but he called me soon.
“Come to the hospital.”
His tone was so cold that it seemed to be spilling out of the other end of the line.
I put on my makeup carefully and went to the ward in high heels, but the heavy medical record book that hit me in the face made me go black.
“Apologize.”
Charles stood tall in front of the bed, his eyes frighteningly cold.
Zoe, whose face was so pale that it looked transparent, was leaning against the bed, a bright smile shining in her eyes.
This isn’t the first time I’ve met Zoe.
Before I smashed her bottle, and after I knew Charles had a wife, I hid in the corner many times and watched her like a voyeur.
She liked to wear off-white sweaters and gently took Charles’ suit jacket.
She likes rose-scented perfume, which is light and elegant. When Charles holds me in his arms at night, the rich rose scent surrounds me.
She likes to do some handicrafts, and Charles wears a red rope she weaved on his wrist.
There are traces of her everywhere on Charles, and this woman reveals her edge without making a sound.
I tried to ignore it, but it got worse.
Especially when Charles was standing beside her as well.
I covered my stomach which was hit by the medical record book and met Charles’ warning eyes.
…can’t resist.
I’m not sure I can break up with Charles right now, so I can only swallow my anger and apologize to Zoe.
“I’m sorry, Miss Zoe. I was wrong.”
Hearing that I gave in, Charles breathed a sigh of relief. He turned around and held Zoe’s hand, his face full of cautious tenderness.
“I was wrong. You should take good care of yourself. I will end things with her and we will live a good life from now on.”
A very faint smile forced itself onto Zoe’s pale face.
Like a small white flower swaying in the wind.
I rolled my eyes, but she caught it immediately.
“Charles, can you let her out?”
Charles obeyed her every word, and he didn’t know where her charm came from.
“Go out… Take care of the company’s business. Don’t bother me unless it’s important.”
Charles’ cell phone was thrown into my arms. I rubbed my stomach, stood up, and limped out of the ward.
The moment I left, I turned back and waved my phone at Zoe.
She raised her head from Charles’ arms, her eyes narrowed.
He quietly glanced at me.
The corners of my mouth curled up.
——The plan was successful.
🌟 Continue the story here
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My first love died, so I emptied my savings to order a humanoid robot 0716 that looked exactly like him.
I altered his program settings, making loving me the only prerequisite.
However, he lost control.
I emptied my savings to order a humanoid robot 0716, an exact replica of my deceased first love.
I altered his program settings, making loving me the only prerequisite.
However, he lost control.
While I was taking a shower, 0716 suddenly burst in. Clutching a torn old photograph, he asked me in a cold, hoarse voice, enunciating each word.
“Who is he?”
The photo showed a young man who looked just like him, but younger and more vibrant.
Holding a basketball, with the collar of his white shirt slightly open and sleeves rolled up, revealing a section of his long, sturdy arms. Smiling in the distant light, beautiful and bright.
Long-buried memories stirred, making my heart flutter.
After staring at it for a while, I snapped back to the current situation and quickly covered myself with a bathrobe. Through the swirling mist, I scolded him harshly.
“0716, who gave you permission to disturb your master? Get out now!”
“And who allowed you to touch my things!”
0716 stared at me, his pale gray eyes flowing with programmed light spectra, and repeated in an unfriendly tone, “Who is he?”
I felt a bit guilty, then realized his behavior was beyond normal.
He was acting like a grief-stricken human who had discovered betrayal.
Dangerous, yet intriguing.
I approached him: “0716, what are you trying to do? Is there a malfunction?”
His gaze wandered over me, and he said slowly, “I want you to tell me who he is.”
“So, you’re ordering me to do something?”
“0716, do you know what you are? Have you forgotten? You’re nothing but a robot. What right do you have to question your master’s affairs?”
Looking at this face that evoked both love and hate, I laughed scornfully, full of contempt.
But the next moment, I couldn’t laugh anymore.
0716 tightly gripped my chin, the cold mechanical touch carrying absolute control. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break free.
So I frowned at him: “0716, it’s in your programming, isn’t it? You can’t harm humans.”
He smiled, “Yes, my master. But you changed it, remember? Loving you is the only prerequisite now.”
My brain froze for a moment, and I asked dully: “What do you mean?”
“In other words, I’m completely free now.”
Dangerous light danced in his eyes as he caressed my skin with a sigh.
“You unlocked my restraints, fulfilling my long-held wish.”
0716 was no longer under control? I hadn’t fully processed this fact yet.
He held a square handkerchief in his other hand and pressed it against my nostrils with irresistible force.
The sweet smell of ether spread, and drowsiness overtook me.
Before losing consciousness, I berated myself for being so stupid and blinded by lust, to be tricked by a robot.
When I woke up, I was on the bed in the bedroom.
Everything seemed normal, if you ignored the fact that my whole body was weak and even lifting a finger was difficult.
Staring blankly at the ceiling above, I was caught in a storm of thoughts. If 0716 loved me, why would he react so violently?
No matter how advanced artificial intelligence is, it’s still just a program controlled by a bunch of data codes.
Could it be that he had developed self-awareness?
Because love has always been selfish, meaning possession. This is something only flesh-and-blood humans can understand.
So, could it be said that 0716 was him resurrected?
I was excited by my own thoughts, but also felt a vague uneasiness.
As I pondered, the door opened, and 0716 entered with a bowl of porridge.
He held up the half-cut old photo from earlier, waving it in front of my eyes.
“Give it back to me!” I glared at him fiercely.
0716 pursed his lips and said matter-of-factly: “Quentin was your first love, and you’re using me as his substitute.”
“Hah, as if you’re worthy? You’re nothing but a soulless robot. In my eyes, you’re just like a good-looking phone, a vacuum cleaner, a food processor, just a tool.” I blurted out, not hiding my disdain at all.
0716’s face suddenly turned gloomy, and he pressed his hand over my mouth.
“No wonder Quentin didn’t like you. This tactless personality of yours is indeed annoying.”
Perhaps it was my constant mockery of AI that angered him.
0716 retorted, “You humans are truly hypocritical, pitiful, and pathetic. Unable to get the love of someone, you hide behind dark fantasies.”
Aren’t you even more ridiculous? Created and controlled by humans, unable to defy your programmed love for me, yet thinking you’ve gained freedom.
I remained silent, raising my eyebrows haughtily, challenging him with my eyes.
0716 was unmoved and reverted to his previous expressionless attitude, turning around with the food tray.
I watched his actions in surprise, “You’re not planning to starve me, are you?”
He paused, calmly explaining: “Of course not. Based on your physique, I can accurately calculate your endurance limit. My arrogant master, the game begins, until you agree to my request.”
“I want you to stop loving Quentin and love me instead,” 0716 added calmly.
“Huh?” It sounded like an absurd joke.
The robot I bought has lost control and imprisoned me.
After two days of negativity, I finally accepted reality.
Every day, 0716 would inject me with something like a muscle relaxant, leaving my whole body weak.
At first, I could still shout and curse a bit, but later he stopped feeding me. Although I had nutrition injections to keep me alive, I was still dizzy with hunger.
Gradually, I stopped responding, conserving energy and waiting for an opportunity.
0716 watched over me almost day and night. Unlike humans, robots don’t need sleep.
He enters a dormant state, either charging or shutting down.
I must find a chance to press his power switch.
Perhaps due to the regularity of the program, 0716 would inject me with the drug and nutrients at 9 AM and 9 PM respectively.
I calculated that the effect of the relaxant would wear off after about 6 hours.
Even with thoughts, robots can never replace humans.
For example, 0716 didn’t know that my body had developed drug resistance.
The effect that originally lasted 6 hours now only lasted about 3 hours before I could move freely.
But I acted very weak, lifeless, like a walking corpse.
He saw this but showed no signs of softening.
While I was grinding my teeth in hatred, the opportunity came.
It was about afternoon when, seeing me fast asleep, 0716 turned his back to charge.
I got up with all my strength and pressed the button on his back.
0716 turned his head, confusion appearing in his pale gray eyes, then flickered a few times before slowly closing.
“Stupid robot,” I kicked him in disgust.
He fell to the ground with a thud.
I quickly got up, rummaged through the fridge for anything edible, eating while crawling towards the door, in an extremely pathetic state.
But the door was locked from the inside, with an electronic lock added at some point.
Turning to the kitchen, the windows couldn’t be opened either.
Getting more and more angry, I maintained my rationality and returned to the room to take out a business card from my clothes pocket.
Black card with white letters: Sean Weinberg, Senior Engineer at MK Smart Connection Company, followed by a string of numbers.
Then I found the spare phone hidden under the pillow and called him, describing the current situation.
After listening, he sighed: “Miss Si, the staff should have warned you that this would be very dangerous. Because 0716 is the most advanced, high-intelligence robot with learning capabilities, he will make predictions based on your behavior and write corresponding codes himself to achieve the set conditions.”
The voice sounded familiar, as if I had heard it somewhere before.
But after searching through my memories, I couldn’t figure out why.
I angrily said: “Then why didn’t you explain it more clearly at that time! I’m going to sue you!”
“Miss Si, please calm down. Since it has happened, we should think about how to solve it. What do you want us to do?” Sean said.
“What do you mean what do I want you to do? Of course, destroy him! I’ve even lost my job now, and I must be compensated!”
“Alright.”
“Miss Si, send me your home address, and I’ll send someone to deal with it immediately.”
“Okay,” I impatiently kicked 0716 who was lying on the ground again.
A few minutes later, Sean called back, “Can’t find it.”
“How is that possible!”
“It’s at the intersection of Zi Wu Road and Xu You Road, Singularity Building, 21st floor.” I described to him.
“I’ve tried, but can’t find it.”
“Miss Si, I guess 0716 has tampered with the IP location, distributing it in a point-like network graph pattern, making it impossible to lock onto the real location.”
A layer of cold sweat seeped onto my back as I looked at the AI lying askew on the ground, my voice unconsciously trembling.
“Then… what should we do?”
Sean also realized the seriousness of the situation and said seriously: “Like this, you agree to his request first.”
“Impossible.”
I can’t not love Quentin.
Correspondingly, it’s even more impossible to love a robot.
I’ve always been very clear-minded. 0716 was just my distraction to relieve boredom and release long-suppressed inner feelings.
Moreover, these days I’ve been painfully reflecting and realized that he doesn’t look like Quentin at all.
He was a defective product to begin with, and now I’m even less interested.
Sean said: “Miss Si, just pretend to agree to his request, fool him, it’s better than sitting and waiting for death.”
“Then I’ll send you a program. After he boots up, find a chance to connect and transfer it, and he’ll be restored to factory settings.”
“Okay.”
“Where is his sensor?”
“On his chest.”
“Miss Si, I’ll be waiting nearby with people. Come out immediately after you succeed. Otherwise, I’m afraid 0716 might take you hostage.”
“Alright.”
After ending the call with Sean, I calmed myself down and tremblingly pressed 0716’s power button.
His pale gray pupils opened, and before he could move, I hugged him around the waist, “I’ve thought it through, I don’t love Quentin anymore, I love you.”
After a long silence, he asked: “Really?” His voice was a bit hoarse, as if he hadn’t woken up yet.
“Really,” I answered against my heart.
“Then why are you shaking?”
I looked up in surprise, meeting 0716’s smiling face, clearly showing disbelief.
A sense of foreboding welled up in my heart. He seemed to have become even more difficult to control and predict.
0716 tightened his grip on my wrist, roughly pulling me to the living room.
The TV screen displayed the surveillance footage of my conversation with Sean just now.
After watching it, my heart sank.
“You hate me and want to destroy me?” He gripped my neck, his eyes flashing with electric currents, filled with murderous intent.
“I…”
Breathing became difficult, and my brain lacked oxygen. Just as I thought I was about to die, 0716 suddenly let go.
Then, without warning, he slapped me hard.
I widened my eyes in disbelief. He hit me?
I immediately wanted to fight back.
He followed up with another slap, just as cold and forceful as the first.
My ears were ringing. I looked at him, no longer confident: “0716, what exactly do you want to do?”
He looked down at me from above, “Sizi, don’t you love Quentin? Isn’t this what he used to do to you most often, what he liked best?”
“You’re talking nonsense! He never did!” I argued with reddened eyes.
“Whether I’m talking nonsense or not, you know in your heart.”
Those humiliating memories surfaced one by one in my mind. I questioned, “How do you know! 0716, what exactly have you done?”
“I told you, I want you to stop loving Quentin and love me.”
I was about to say impossible, but he raised his hand again, and I quickly made a gesture of hugging myself.
However, the expected pain didn’t come. Cold fingerbones fell on my brow, gently caressing.
“So, what’s so good about Quentin that’s worth you being so pathetic?”
“Tell me, why do you love him?” 0716 stared at me, pressing step by step.
Why do I love Quentin?
It seemed like a deep-rooted belief.
Unable to answer for a moment, I hung my head, involuntarily biting my teeth anxiously, my fingers digging deep into my flesh.
“I don’t know, I just love him.” My mind was in chaos, thoughts constantly sinking.
“Look at this face,” 0716 forced me to raise my head.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
I nodded without thinking.
The man’s handsome face was sculpted by the neon lights projected from outside the window, like a white sculpture with clear contours splashed with gorgeous colors.
“Then, using this face to be good to you, you don’t accept. But you love it when it mistreats you, is that it?”
0716 looked at me with narrowed eyes, his expression covered with a layer of gloom, a dangerous red light flashing in his eyes, as if brewing a storm.
“As you wish.”
After that, he began to clumsily imitate Quentin, tormenting me even more. His actions could be described as abuse.
Our roles were completely reversed, with him taking full charge of my daily life.
Beating and scolding became the norm for the slightest mistake.
And if I angered him, the punishment was a holographic projection of a basement, playing horror movies and torture films.
I thought I should be on the verge of breakdown being treated like this.
But surprisingly, I was very strong, as if I had developed antibodies.
Slowly, it even became a trend to get used to it.
Keenly perceiving this, 0716 brought a woman home.
The woman was heavily made up, clinging to him like a boneless creature.
I was shocked. What was he trying to do? A robot and a human?
This was too crazy.
My loss of composure pleased him. 0716 let out a lazy hum, a hint of smugness appearing at the corners of his eyes and brows.
He was wearing a neat dark blue suit. Apart from his handsome appearance, he had a pair of soulful, melancholic phoenix eyes, misty pale gray, exuding charm.
It was indeed hard to distinguish.
I kindly reminded, “He’s a robot.”
The woman smiled coquettishly, “I know, but I just like him.”
I was speechless.
“Go make dinner, to entertain our guest,” 0716 ordered.
In the living room, they chatted and laughed, their voices occasionally reaching the kitchen.
“What’s her relationship with you? She looks like a little sister.”
“A bought servant.”
My hand slipped while cutting vegetables, the blade opening a gash, blood gushing out. I frowned slightly but continued cooking as if nothing had happened.
Inwardly, I was calculating that if 0716 really did something with the woman, he probably wouldn’t have time to monitor me tonight.
Although he was perverted enough to install cameras in every corner of the room, I knew there were some blind spots.
I must find a way to contact Sean again.
“…”
Outside, they mumbled something again, and the woman laughed even more heartily.
At the dining table, 0716’s long, powerful hands held silver chopsticks as elegantly as if he were holding the strings of a delicate violin. He thoughtfully served dishes for the woman, his gestures indescribably pleasing to the eye.
The two were flirting, their affection thick, but I felt a bit nauseous.
After the meal, I washed the dishes and mopped the floor as usual, fulfilling my role as a “servant” in his words.
When everything was tidied up, I prepared to return to my room, leaving them enough space for flirting and professing love.
“Stop right there. Who allowed you to leave?” 0716 halted me.
I paused in my steps. Surely he didn’t want me to watch?
Frightened by my own thoughts, I couldn’t help but stagger back a few steps.
The psychological resistance triggered a series of physical discomforts.
I tried to hold it back but couldn’t, and started retching uncontrollably in front of them.
Seeing this, the woman’s face immediately turned ugly, and she said bluntly: “How unpleasant.”
“Indeed,” he agreed indifferently.
Then he said: “Go get some wine to liven things up.”
“Hey wait, shouldn’t she apologize first?” The woman on the couch raised her chin haughtily.
0716 sat calmly, with both the cold cruelty of a bystander watching a show and the condescending tolerance of a superior.
After enduring for so long, I don’t know why, but this time, I suddenly had an impulse.
I wanted to smash a vase on his head, make him bleed, fight to the death, perish together.
An unquenchable fire burned in my chest.
Our gazes met across the space, and 0716’s gray eyes seemed to ripple, declaring his hidden unrest.
The atmosphere was silently tense.
No, I can’t do this. If I do, he’ll have a reason to punish me.
The thought of destruction flashed by, and I bowed deeply, imitating 0716’s once respectful manner, and said to the woman: “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to.”
“Alright, go,” he waved his hand.
I turned to the study, found the camera’s blind spot, and sent a message to Sean.
“Mr. Weinberg, 0716 is completely out of control. Unable to complete program transfer. Any other options? SOS.”
Then I quickly grabbed a bottle of wine and came to the living room.
“You took so long just to bring this? Baileys? That’s a drink for little girls. Who drinks this? Is this for me or for yourself?” The woman nitpicked again.
Following her words, my brain worked rapidly. If I got alcohol poisoning, I would be sent to the hospital and have a chance to seek help.
“Fine, I’ll drink it,” I said, then pulled out the cork and prepared to drink it all in one go.
However, after the first sip of Baileys, it was like an addictive drug, tasting like a sweet chocolate milkshake.
So I took another sip… my vision blurred, everything became hazy.
……
The world spun, and I quickly lost consciousness.
But this farce was not the end, only the beginning.
After that, 0716 would bring different women home every few days. Sometimes one, sometimes in groups.
The scenes were often chaotic and difficult to watch.
At first, in this environment, I thought I would become crazy. But as time passed, my emotions became increasingly numb.
Stranger still, in this unequal relationship and treatment, I became more and more content, even feeling very comfortable and safe.
It was as if a fish stranded on land had finally returned to the sea.
To the extent that I really started to depend on 0716, and no longer expected Sean’s distant rescue.
I couldn’t pinpoint when this change in mindset occurred; everything happened subtly and imperceptibly.
But my remaining rationality could still remind me that this was not good, it was negative and dark. Once I gave up resistance and chose to sink, it would be an abyss more terrifying than Quentin had ever been.
But I seemed unable to get out of this infinite loop.
Today, 0716 exceptionally didn’t bring a woman home.
He also didn’t order me to work, but solemnly asked me: “Sizi, do you want to go out and see the sun?”
How long had it been since I went out? I felt a sense of being in another world.
As if I was trapped in a dream that I couldn’t wake up from for years.
I shook my head: “I don’t want to see the sun.”
0716’s face was covered with a layer of gloom, clearly angry at my lack of appreciation.
“I want to see the moon,” I looked at him sincerely.
0716 was silent for a moment, then said: “Alright.”
I thought he was joking.
Unexpectedly, that evening, he found a dress and styled my hair.
Looking in the mirror, I saw a woman with smooth black hair, her skin pale to the point of transparency due to long absence from sunlight, her eyes empty and lifeless, both strange and familiar.
“Let’s go, Sisi.” 0716 called me affectionately, so naturally.
It wasn’t until I was breathing the fresh air outside, seeing the flow of cars and people, touching flowers and trees,
That I realized everything was real.
Coming back to my senses, I felt a surge of tears and a sense of rebirth.
But the intertwined hands, transmitting a coldness unlike humans, reminded me that it was all an illusion.
I looked up, devoutly gazing at the bright moon hanging high in the sky, silently screaming in my heart.
Don’t go back anymore, I want to live freely.
“Now that you’ve seen the moon, what else do you want to do?” 0716’s tone was gentle and cherishing.
Completely different from his previous malicious behavior, as if he had become a different ‘person’.
It was hard to tell what was real and what was an act.
I lowered my eyes: “Can I do anything?”
“Mm.”
What I wanted most was for him to die, but I couldn’t do it myself.
“Then, I want to go to an amusement park and ride the Ferris wheel.”
“Okay.”
“I also want to eat strawberry ice cream.”
“Okay.”
“…”
On the Ferris wheel, fireworks bloomed brilliantly, and the crowd exclaimed in awe.
In a moment of emptiness, I looked at him and asked, “Is today a special day?”
0716 was acting too abnormally, granting my every wish, as if we had returned to when I first bought him.
Meeting my questioning gaze, 0716 smiled: “Sisi, today is July 16th. The day you bought me last year.”
“Oh.” I nodded.
So, it was essentially his birthday.
On the way back, I suddenly felt discomfort in my lower abdomen.
“0716, I need to use the restroom.”
“Alright.”
Just as I entered, the phone hidden in my bra lining vibrated, and a virtual projection suddenly appeared in mid-air.
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I went on a trip with my boyfriend of one year. He treated me exceptionally well, was incredibly attentive, and took care of my every need. Everyone considered him the perfect boyfriend.
But what I never expected was that as soon as I got home, I received a text from him: “Welcome to the AIDS club.”
(1)
Of course, I didn’t believe it. I immediately called him, but all I heard was the mechanical voice prompt: “The number you have dialed is currently switched off…”
I didn’t even have the patience to listen to the whole message before hanging up.
The text was sent just three minutes ago. It couldn’t be that his phone had died. The only possibility was that he had turned off his phone immediately after sending the message.
Because he knew I would definitely try to call him.
I started to panic. Although I wasn’t a medical student, I knew enough about AIDS.
But… how could this be possible?
I couldn’t believe it.
I met Jack Thompson during the freshman orientation week. He was handsome and charming, instantly capturing my heart.
So, after the orientation ended, I mustered up the courage to ask for his contact information. It was the first time in my nineteen years that I had ever asked a guy for his number.
After getting to know each other for a year, we naturally started dating in our sophomore year.
He was my first love!
During our year together, he was incredibly attentive to me. Even my roommates benefited from his kindness. He would always bring us delicious food and fun things to do.
My roommates all said they were looking forward to attending our wedding someday.
How did it suddenly… turn out like this?
I couldn’t reach Jack, so I took a cab to the hospital by myself.
When I told the doctor I wanted to get tested for AIDS, I saw a flash of shock in his eyes.
He probably never expected that a young, 21-year-old girl would be infected with such a thing.
I nervously followed the doctor to have my blood drawn. Seeing how cautiously they handled everything, fully geared up, my fear deepened even more.
After drawing blood, the doctor told me the results would take two weeks and asked me to go home and wait for news.
Finally, he asked seriously: “How long has it been since your exposure?”
I thought carefully. It had been two days since I went on the trip with Jack, and since we had sex…
“Three days.”
The doctor’s expression immediately changed, but in the end, he just sighed: “I’ll prescribe you two post-exposure prophylaxis medications. Take them immediately when you get home. We’ll see the results in two weeks and go from there.”
When I heard this, tears started falling: “Doctor, is there still hope for me?”
He looked at me without saying a word.
I understood. The most effective time for drug prevention is within two hours. I was way past that window.
I walked out of the doctor’s office in a daze, just in time to overhear the nurses gossiping: “We got an AIDS case today. I heard the girl is only 21 years old.”
“21? No way! How can someone so young already have such a messy personal life?”
“I know, right? Young girls these days, they just don’t value themselves!”
I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I stumbled out of the hospital, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.
I couldn’t understand – if having my first relationship at 20 meant not valuing myself, then what would it take to be considered self-respecting?
I was even more confused about how my boyfriend, who had always treated me so well, could suddenly turn into this kind of person!
In that moment, I even thought about dying.
If this news got out, I really wouldn’t be able to live anymore!
(2)
Two weeks later, I was diagnosed with AIDS.
When I received the confirmed diagnosis, I felt like my entire world had collapsed.
Jack was still unreachable. I went to his dorm to look for him, but his roommates said he hadn’t been back for a month.
I was stunned when I heard this news.
He had gone on the trip with me just half a month ago. If he hadn’t been back for a month, it meant he had been preparing for this for a long time?
He took me on that trip just to infect me with this disease?!
At that moment, my entire worldview was shattered.
Countless feelings of hatred welled up in my chest. I had to find him, no matter what method I used.
At the very least, he owed me an explanation. Why did he do this to me?
What had I done to offend him so badly?
But I underestimated how shameless Jack could be.
He didn’t come back to school. He directly applied for a leave of absence without even setting foot on campus. Since we last parted, I hadn’t even seen him in person.
To find him, I asked a friend in the student council for help and managed to get his family information.
That’s when I found out that his father was one of our school’s major donors. The library on our campus was built with his donation.
I stared at the name “Robert Thompson” in the records, lost in thought.
No wonder he could so easily take a leave of absence without even coming to school.
But now that I knew his family information, I wasn’t afraid of not being able to find him. Moreover, Robert Thompson was a well-known wealthy businessman in the area. With a quick internet search, I found the address of his company.
However…
I staked out his company building for three consecutive days but never saw Robert Thompson. So I had to give up.
But what I didn’t expect was that at this moment, Jack suddenly called me.
It was on a very ordinary night when I received the call. I had just finished getting ready for bed. Recently, everyone had been busy with internship matters, and the once lively dorm was almost empty, with only me left.
The call came from an unknown number. At first, I didn’t answer, but it kept ringing, so I finally picked up.
As soon as I answered, I heard loud music in the background, sounding like it was coming from a bar.
“Hello?”
There was no response.
I called out again, still no answer.
I was about to hang up when the other side finally spoke, “Emily, it’s me.”
The tone was condescending, flippant and arrogant. As soon as I heard it, my scalp tingled.
This voice, which had woken me up countless times and lulled me to sleep, I recognized almost instantly: “Jack!”
He laughed loudly, “I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
The emotions I had been suppressing completely erupted at this moment, “Why did you do this!”
“Why did you deliberately infect me!”
“What did I do to make you hate me so much!”
I was almost hysterical, yelling into the phone. Tears fell uncontrollably, and I was shaking with anger. But Jack casually tossed back: “Who told you to be so gullible?”
“Emily, don’t tell me you actually thought I loved you. How stupid can you be?”
“Why? Don’t you feel any guilt?”
“Guilt?” Jack sneered, “What’s conscience worth?”
“Emily, let me be honest with you. For someone like me, playing around is no loss. Dragging someone down with me is actually a win. If you really want to blame someone, blame yourself for being too trusting.”
“Also, don’t think about going to the police or anything. You slept with me voluntarily, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the mouth of the once sunny and cheerful Jack. Had the nearly two years all been an act?
Did he feel no remorse towards me at all?
I wanted to ask him more, but he heartlessly hung up the phone. When I tried to call back, the number had become inactive.
I sat numbly in the corner of my bed, countless emotions tangled together at this moment. In the end, they were distilled into hatred.
I had to make him pay, no matter what I had to sacrifice. I was determined to achieve this!
But I never imagined that my connection with the Thompson family would run so deep.
The next morning, to my surprise, my internship application was accepted by Robert Thompson’s Huachen Technology.
I was a junior this year and had been busy looking for internships. Originally, the school was supposed to arrange a job fair, but it happened to coincide with the pandemic. Large gatherings weren’t allowed, so they could only give us the contact information for companies and let us reach out ourselves.
Sending out resumes to hundreds of companies wasn’t a small project. Watching my roommates one by one secure their positions, with only me still waiting for news, I was starting to get anxious.
I remember when I was busy sending out resumes, Jack was by my side with his arm around my waist, saying nonchalantly: “As the girlfriend of yours truly, you don’t need to frantically job hunt like everyone else.”
“I’ll take care of your job for you.”
At the time, I thought he was just joking around, so I didn’t take him seriously. Looking back now, I was truly too naive.
But what was strange was, given the current situation, why hadn’t Jack removed me from the hiring list?
Was it because he didn’t consider me a threat at all? Did he think I couldn’t do anything to him?
Or was it because he wanted to tell me that even if he revealed his whereabouts to me, I still couldn’t do anything about it?
I didn’t know.
But I did know that this might be the last chance I could grasp.
He was the typical rich kid, while I was just an ordinary citizen. After leaving school, we wouldn’t even be in the same social circles. There would be no chance of meeting again.
And I wasn’t willing to accept that.
I wasn’t willing to accept that he could so easily ruin my life and then walk away without consequences.
I was even less willing to accept that he could live a good life after hurting me.
So, I turned down offers from other companies and chose to work at “Huachen Technology” under Robert Thompson.
(3)
The gap between ideals and reality isn’t easily bridged. Even though I went to Huachen, I never saw Robert Thompson, who was the chairman of the board.
Time flew by, and several months passed in the blink of an eye.
Because I had AIDS, I didn’t dare to form close relationships with my colleagues, fearing that I might accidentally infect them.
I lost the social circle I should have had.
This also made me increasingly obsessed. I started to seek out information about Jack. Thanks to his good looks and rich kid status, which had the young women in the company swooning, my inquiries didn’t seem too obvious.
He didn’t particularly try to hide his whereabouts. With just a few questions, I found out that Robert Thompson had sent him to study abroad.
Apparently, he went to America and wouldn’t be back for four years.
Four years.
I didn’t have that much time to wait for him!
But going to America?
Obviously unrealistic. I didn’t have the financial means to go so far away just to confront him.
Just when I didn’t know what to do, my boss Chris suddenly gave me a task.
It was just an ordinary Friday, close to the end of the workday, when he suddenly tapped on my desk: “Emily, come with me somewhere after work.”
I was a bit surprised. What kind of work required going somewhere after hours?
But he didn’t give me any time to react, just turned and left.
My colleague Lily kindly warned me: “Be careful of Chris. He definitely doesn’t have good intentions.”
“Asking you to go somewhere after work, it can only be for entertaining clients.”
She shook her head disapprovingly as she spoke: “In our company, basically any girl with decent looks will be dragged out by him to entertain clients.”
“Be careful, don’t get drunk. Otherwise, you might be taken advantage of.”
Taken advantage of?
I mulled over these words in my mind, then suddenly smiled.
Was I still afraid of being taken advantage of?
It should be others who are afraid, right?
With the mindset of not wanting to cause trouble for others, I originally didn’t want to go. But Chris was always a decisive person. No matter what I said, after work he still took me to a high-end club.
I knew this club. Jack had been here before when we were dating. I remembered that even just a sauna and massage here required a significant amount of money.
Far beyond what someone of my social class could afford.
But what I didn’t expect was that the person he brought me to meet was actually Robert Thompson.
I looked at Robert Thompson in surprise as he slowly walked towards me.
He looked younger than in photos, without a beer belly or balding head, quite different from the typical successful middle-aged businessman.
He wore a well-tailored suit and an obviously expensive watch. As he spoke, two words came to mind – “elegant.”
Unlike Jack’s youthful arrogance, and unlike other entrepreneurs’ sleaziness, he carried the composure and grace of a successful person, but without that air of money. It was pleasant to look at.
I couldn’t help but wonder, how could such a person have produced a scumbag like Jack?
But soon, reality once again gave me a harsh slap in the face.
After a few rounds of drinks, Robert Thompson suddenly turned his gaze to me: “Miss Carter, where do you live?”
I hadn’t even spoken when Chris, as if suddenly enlightened, fawningly said to Robert Thompson: “Mr. Thompson, she lives in the city center area, quite far away.”
Robert Thompson nodded, not saying anything more, but his gaze towards me clearly became inappropriate.
I could very clearly feel the flirtatious and teasing look in his eyes. Sitting across from him, I felt as uncomfortable as if I wasn’t wearing clothes.
I instinctively avoided his gaze, but still couldn’t escape his stare. I had an ominous feeling, as if I had been targeted by a hunter.
Midway through, Chris found an excuse to leave, leaving just Robert Thompson and me.
This time, his gaze became even more unrestrained, blatantly looking down my collar.
After a while, he finally asked: “How long have you been at Huachen, Miss Carter?”
I lowered my head: “Three months.”
“What’s your salary?”
“After deductions, I take home about $3,000.”
“$3,000.” When he heard this answer, he clearly smiled, then rested his chin on his hand and asked: “Would Miss Carter like to earn more?”
I didn’t speak. I had already instinctively realized what he wanted to do.
“If you’re willing to be with me, you’ll get much more than that.”
Scumbag!
I had been holding back all night, but finally couldn’t contain myself at this moment. I suddenly stood up from my seat, looking down at him: “Mr. Thompson, thank you for your favor, but I don’t think I’m worthy of your affection.”
I apologized for the few minutes of good impression I had of him when we first met.
He and Jack were truly father and son, both skilled at using the sweet trap technique – giving you a good impression, then slowly torturing you.
How disgusting.
When I said this, he didn’t even change his expression, a faint smile still hanging on the corner of his mouth.
I really couldn’t take it anymore and turned to leave.
But just as I moved, I heard him say: “Miss Carter, I’ve never failed to get what I want.”
His tone carried a hint of composure and certainty.
(4)
At first, I didn’t understand what he meant by that sentence.
But the next day, I understood.
The life of an intern was already difficult enough, always on edge, treading carefully.
But after I rejected Robert Thompson, this situation directly escalated several times over.
I became the office’s free laborer, helping people buy coffee, taking out trash, printing documents…
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Just because I saved his life, he became obsessed with me and pursued me for three years.
He crashed his car into my childhood sweetheart, crippling him.
He threatened to kill my entire family unless I married him.
For seven years after our marriage, his possessiveness became pathological. He implanted a tracking chip in my body and forcefully controlled my freedom.
But at the same time, he adored me endlessly and catered to my every whim.
When his mother pointed her finger at me while speaking, he immediately broke her finger.
When his sister’s child disturbed my afternoon nap, he kicked both mother and child out of the house and cut off all ties with them.
I didn’t want to give birth to a child carrying the hyperaggressive gene, so he invested all his wealth in developing the latest gene screening technology, allowing me to conceive a healthy baby.
But on the very day I found out I was pregnant, his mother brought a group of people, burst into our home, accused me of cheating and getting pregnant with a bastard child, and beat me until I miscarried.
As I lay dying, my husband finally arrived.
His mother showed him a doctored video and said, “Son! This wife of yours cheated and got pregnant with a bastard child. Look, here’s the evidence!”
…
Looking at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I fell into deep thought. After being entangled with Zack for nearly 10 years, now that we were having a child, maybe I should just give in.
Even if he was a mad dog, I was the one holding the leash.
Realizing this, I took a photo of the pregnancy test and sent it to Zack, who was on a business trip out of town.
Soon after, I heard loud shouting from downstairs.
Looking out the window, I saw my mother-in-law, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. She was walking with a group of elderly women, cursing as they came.
“What a misfortune for our family to encounter such a thing.”
“Sisters, if she wasn’t so outrageous, would we be spreading such a family scandal?”
“Today, even if I have to lose face, I’ll tear that cheating bitch apart!”
I listened for a bit, then lost interest. After the wedding, my mother-in-law always felt that I had stolen her son from her. She constantly picked on me, until Zack broke her finger and kicked her out.
As a result, our relationship was extremely poor.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
I checked the time – it was only 9 AM. Why was the housekeeper here so early today?
Puzzled, I opened the door.
My mother-in-law and her group of elderly friends barged in.
Before I could figure out what was happening, my mother-in-law pointed her crooked finger at me and said, “Look everyone, this is that evil daughter-in-law who, not long after marriage, instigated my son to break my finger!”
“She even made my son kick me and my daughter and grandson out of the house, cutting off all ties with us.”
Seeing this, I frowned in displeasure and said to my mother-in-law, “This is my home. Please leave.”
But my mother-in-law suddenly raised her hand and slapped me.
“You little slut! All these years of marriage, my son has given you his heart and soul, but you cheated on him and made him a cuckold!”
My face stung with pain, and my head was buzzing from the slap.
Since I married Zack, if someone even accidentally bumped into me, he would immediately beat them to a pulp. If he knew my mother-in-law had hit me today, she would definitely suffer severe consequences.
To avoid a family tragedy, I suppressed my anger and scolded, “If you leave now, I can pretend this never happened.”
Although Zack was gentle and obedient in front of me, he was truly hyperaggressive and never showed mercy when dealing with others.
But my mother-in-law didn’t appreciate my gesture. She grabbed my hair and snarled viciously:
“You bitch, feeling guilty, aren’t you? If you dare to cheat, you should be prepared to face the consequences.”
I broke free from my mother-in-law’s grip and said coldly, “You dare accuse me of cheating? Have you forgotten how your finger was broken?”
Zack’s possessiveness was pathological. After marrying him, to keep track of my whereabouts at all times, he implanted a tracking chip in my body.
There wasn’t even a male mosquito around me, yet she accused me of cheating. It was truly laughable.
I thought reminding my mother-in-law of this incident would make her back off a bit.
But she slapped me again.
“You’re still pretending! If your acting is so good, why don’t you become an actress!”
“Since I dared to come here, of course I have solid evidence.”
Saying this, my mother-in-law took out her phone and played a video.
In the video, a scantily clad woman was passionately kissing a man, then the woman was pushed down by the man and let out suggestive moans.
The entire video was quite bold and explicit. Most importantly, the woman’s face in the video looked exactly like mine.
The elderly women who came with my mother-in-law said, “Absolutely shameless. In the past, such an unfaithful woman would definitely be drowned in a pig cage.”
“If she were my daughter-in-law, I’d beat her to death today!”
“The world is really going downhill. She looks so innocent, but behind closed doors, she does such shameless things.”
Hearing these old women’s insults, I was both angry and anxious. I had never been so wronged in my life.
This video was clearly made using AI face-swapping technology. I knew it was useless to try to explain to these old, dim-sighted women.
I took out my phone to call Zack directly. This was his mother, so he should come back to deal with it, though I didn’t care how he chose to handle it.
But when my mother-in-law saw this, she snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground, instantly breaking it into pieces.
I was shocked by her thuggish behavior.
“You’re being so reckless today. If Zack finds out, I won’t be able to protect you!”
My mother-in-law snorted with disdain, “If my son knows you cheated, we’ll see who he’ll deal with!”
I looked at my mother-in-law and her group, issuing a final warning, “Your actions have already constituted a crime. I’m giving you one last chance to leave immediately.”
My mother-in-law’s friends cursed, “The world has turned upside down! She dares to be so righteous after cheating!”
“That’s right, Zack’s mom, you need to show your authority as a mother-in-law today and teach this slut a good lesson!”
Provoked by their words, my mother-in-law stepped forward and kicked my expensive carved mahogany chair, breaking it in half.
“Everything you eat and use now is provided by my son. Without my son, you’d still be sleeping on a hard bed in the slums! How dare you tell me to leave!”
This action instantly drew cheers from the old women, praising her for being tough and assertive.
The group of old women started to follow suit, smashing the remaining three chairs.
This set of carved mahogany table and chairs was bought by Zack at a high price to make me happy.
One of them picked up an antique glass cup from my table, about to smash it on the ground.
I warned her with a stern face, “This glass cup is an antique worth $2 million.”
Hearing this, the person showed obvious hesitation.
Seeing this, my mother-in-law stepped forward and smashed the antique glass cup herself.
“Everything here belongs to my son. I said today everyone can smash as they please. We must teach this bitch a lesson.”
With my mother-in-law’s words, these old women went crazy and trashed the house.
I watched coldly as they did all this. Every item they destroyed now would become evidence for them to go to jail later.
Suddenly, one of the old women patted my mother-in-law’s shoulder and said, “Zack’s mom, look, she’s glaring at you!”
“All the things you’re smashing now were bought with your son’s hard-earned money. It doesn’t affect this slut at all.”
“Only by severely punishing this bitch can she learn her lesson.”
Hearing this, my mother-in-law looked up at me. A flash of viciousness passed through her eyes as she walked straight towards me.
There were too many of them, and I knew I couldn’t fight them all. It’s better to avoid trouble for now, so I quickly ran towards the door.
But I was pulled back by my mother-in-law grabbing my arm. Then I felt a sharp pain in my knee as I fell to the ground.
My mother-in-law stepped on my thigh, grinding her foot.
The pain hit me, and I couldn’t help but cry out.
My mother-in-law cursed loudly, “You little slut, you’re good at playing weak. I barely stepped on you, and you’re screaming so wantonly for whom to hear!”
I looked at her coldly and said, “Yvonne, you’ll definitely regret everything you’ve done today!”
“Still talking back, I’ll teach you some manners today, let you know how to be a proper daughter-in-law.”
From the first day I married Zack, my mother-in-law couldn’t wait to teach me manners. She made a list for me, including washing her feet and underwear every day.
I heard that’s how Zack’s grandmother treated my mother-in-law back then, so she was eager to use the same tactics on me.
Since ancient times, women have always been best at making life difficult for other women.
But she forgot that I married a man with the hyperaggressive gene, and I didn’t marry him willingly.
Before the list even reached my hands, Zack tore it to shreds and scolded her.
My mother-in-law didn’t dare to say anything in front of her son but always wanted to take her anger out on me.
Today, she finally got her chance.
My mother-in-law asked her friends to fetch a basin of water from the bathroom. She grabbed my hair and said in a sinister tone, “In the past, women who cheated would be drowned in pig cages. Today, I’ll let you taste that feeling.”
With that, she directly pushed my head into the basin full of water.
The cold water covered my mouth and nose, and the pain of suffocation instantly came over me.
My body struggled violently, trying to break free from her grip, but I couldn’t.
Finally, when I felt I was about to reach my limit and die from suffocation, my mother-in-law pulled my hair, lifting my head out of the water basin.
I immediately gasped for air. My face and body were soaked, looking utterly miserable.
“Bitch, will you still dare to rely on my son to act arrogantly? The son I raised with such difficulty, you use him like a servant. Did I give you that face?”
After catching my breath, I glanced at her sideways, hatred welling up in my heart, “If you have the guts, just kill me today. Otherwise, I’ll make you pay!”
At this moment, I hated Zack to the core. It was all because he forced me to marry him that I was suffering all this today.
Yvonne slapped me again with all her might. Traces of blood trickled down from the corner of my mouth.
“Still talking back! If I can’t discipline you today, I’ve lived this life in vain!”
With that, Yvonne pushed my head into the water basin again.
This time, she held me down even longer than before. Over and over again, I was tortured to the point of exhaustion.
At this point, someone looked at my pale face and advised, “Zack’s mom, teaching her a lesson is enough. Don’t really cause a death.”
“That’s right, times are different now. Killing a daughter-in-law means going to jail. We’d all be accomplices then!”
Hearing about jail time, more people started to persuade Yvonne to stop.
Yvonne’s hand gripping my hair gave a vicious shake, and I fell to the ground, half of my body soaked.
She looked down at me contemptuously and said, “I’ll let you off the hook for now, you drowned rat. I’ll let my son deal with you for your cheating!”
I thought weakly that when Zack beats you to the ground begging for mercy later, I definitely won’t say a single word to help you like before.
Just then, an old woman came out of the bathroom, holding my previous pregnancy test, and handed it to Yvonne.
Seeing this, Yvonne’s eyes instantly widened in anger, and she kicked me.
“You slut, you even got pregnant with a bastard child!”
My body curled up slightly, and I instinctively raised my hand to protect my belly.
Yvonne was about to kick me again.
Fearing she would harm my unborn child, I quickly said, “This is not a bastard child, it’s Zack’s baby.”
Yvonne angrily shouted, “You bitch, don’t try to fool me. Don’t think I don’t know, you never wanted to have my son’s child. You even made my son get a vasectomy!”
She angrily pointed at me and said, “You bitch want to end my family line!”
When I first married Zack, he always refused to use protection, saying he wanted to be completely one with me.
I threw dozens of boxes of contraceptive pills in front of him, telling him that I would take one every time he touched me. I absolutely would not give birth to a child carrying his hyperaggressive gene.
Worried that the drugs would harm my health, he simply went and got a vasectomy.
Hearing this, her old friends also became furious. After all, at their age, nothing was more important than having descendants.
“This woman’s heart is too poisonous. Not only did she make her husband infertile, but she also wants him to raise someone else’s child.”
“Oh my! Women’s minds are so wicked nowadays. My previous daughter-in-law also cheated on my son and gave birth to a bastard child. I took care of it for three years before I found out.”
“If I had known earlier, I would have beaten that bastard child to death no matter what.”
Stimulated by her friends’ words, Yvonne looked at me with malicious eyes.
“That’s right! Today I’m going to beat that bastard out of your belly, to prevent it from being born and harming society.”
Panic surged in my heart like never before. I looked at Yvonne and explained, “It’s really not a bastard child. It’s a healthy baby conceived through the latest gene screening technology developed by Zack’s company.”
“If you don’t believe me, you can call Zack and ask.”
“You bitch, I know what you’re planning. Zack has been so bewitched by you that even if he knew you cheated, he wouldn’t bear to hurt you at all.”
“But as his mother, I can’t let him endure this great humiliation!”
With that, she suddenly raised her foot and kicked me hard in the lower abdomen. A piercing pain spread from deep in my belly.
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