Category: English

My best friend Bella Burns was hemorrhaging after childbirth, her life hanging by a thread. My husband Peter Green urged me to donate blood to save her. To save her, I didn’t hesitate to give blood, pulling her back from the brink of death. But this exposed the fact that I have an extremely rare Rh-negative blood type. Later, when her daughter developed a rare disease requiring a complete blood transfusion, she begged me desperately to donate blood. But I had just gotten pregnant and couldn’t donate blood at all. Peter persuaded me: “You just need to save a little girl. You don’t need to give much blood. Don’t be so heartless.” After I firmly refused, Bella knelt in front of me in public, crying her heart out. “Paige is only two years old. How can you bear to watch her die!” Bella even spread the word online that I was refusing to save a life, not even sparing a child. I was condemned by internet users, spurned by friends and colleagues. Even Peter found me cold-hearted and demanded a divorce. Meanwhile, Bella went viral online, not only receiving millions of dollars in donations but also having hospitals offer free treatment for her daughter. I rushed to Bella’s house to confront her, only to walk in on Peter and her passionately kissing. Bella laughed: “You can’t have children, so naturally he favors me more.” I had an emotional breakdown and grabbed scissors, ready to stab Bella. But Peter plunged a knife into my throat. I died from suffocation. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Bella knelt and begged me to donate blood to save someone. ***** “Lara Lewis, just donate blood for Paige. Paige just needs a complete blood transfusion, it’s no big deal.” I looked coldly at Bella, who was kneeling in front of me crying her eyes out, my nails digging into my palms until they drew blood. My voice was hoarse as I replied: “I can’t donate blood. Bella, you should find someone else.” Bella cried even more heartbreakingly. Anyone who saw her would think she was utterly pitiful. Peter also frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “How much blood could Paige possibly need? Don’t be so heartless.” Seeing the heartache in Peter’s eyes and his hand on Bella’s shoulder, the hatred in my heart deepened. In my previous life, Bella had hemorrhaged after childbirth, her life in danger. Peter looked anxious and urged me to donate blood to save her. He condemned me: “Bella is your best friend! Can you bear to watch her die?” Bella and I had been best friends for nearly twenty years, so naturally I couldn’t bear to watch her die. So I didn’t hesitate to donate blood, just to pull Bella back from the brink of death. But when Bella woke up, she didn’t thank me. Even after her daughter was diagnosed with a rare disease requiring a complete blood transfusion, she set her sights on me again. At that time, I had just learned I was pregnant, so naturally I firmly refused to donate blood. But Bella spread the word online that I was refusing to save a life, that I was heartless and cruel. I was condemned by internet users, chased and blocked by strangers, and nearly lost my child. My friends and colleagues also spurned me. They not only cut ties with me but also reported me to the company for misconduct, getting me fired. Even Peter found me cold-hearted and would rather give up all his assets than divorce me. Meanwhile, Bella won the sympathy of internet users. She not only received millions of dollars in donations but also had hospitals willing to provide free treatment. I rushed to Bella’s house, only to see her and Peter passionately kissing. Instantly furious, I rushed over to demand why they were doing this to me. Bella leaned into Peter’s arms, smiling smugly. “You can’t have children, so naturally he favors me more.” I had an emotional breakdown and grabbed the scissors from the table, lunging at Bella. But Peter plunged a knife into my throat. In the end, I died from suffocation. Thinking of this, I instinctively touched my abdomen. Bella’s shrill crying brought me back to reality. She crawled over to me crying, hugging my legs and refusing to let go. “Paige is only two years old. How can you refuse to save her? “She has a rare Rh-negative blood type. Only you can save her. How can you bear to watch her die?” Her crying immediately drew everyone else’s attention. Everyone urged me to donate blood. “How much blood could a small child need? As an adult, don’t be so petty.” “You won’t even save a two-year-old child? Are you even human!”

A smug look flashed in Bella’s eyes as she lifted her chin, waiting for me to give in. I shot back directly: “Why don’t you donate yourself? Blood donation isn’t something to take lightly!” Everyone immediately fell silent, afraid that saying one more word would get them forced into donating blood too. I turned around and looked at Bella with confusion: “You also have the rare Rh-negative blood type. Why aren’t you donating blood to Paige?” Bella panicked for a moment, stammering her rebuttal: “Lara, don’t talk nonsense. I’m not some rare blood type.” I covered my mouth, putting on a surprised expression: “Bella, what are you saying? When you had postpartum hemorrhaging, I was the one who donated blood to you!” Bella reacted quickly, immediately declaring with righteous indignation that doctors don’t allow direct family members to donate blood. She expressed her anguish: “If direct family members could donate blood, I’d risk my life to save Paige!” Peter stepped protectively in front of Bella, frowning as he scolded me loudly: “Stop hitting Bella where it hurts! If you really care about Paige, you should hurry up and donate blood!” The people around us chimed in, pressing me from all sides, all just to force me to donate blood to save Paige. I even heard someone in the crowd whispering that Peter was so good to Bella, and that they clearly looked like a loving couple. The smile on my face completely crumbled as my emotions broke down: “So you’re just going to keep protecting Bella? Don’t forget, I’m your wife!” A chorus of boos rose from the crowd of onlookers, and everyone’s gaze toward Peter and Bella changed. Panic flashed in Peter’s eyes before he composed himself. He declared righteously that he was a champion of justice and would never cover for me just because I was his wife. Bella also dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, kowtowing to me over and over: “Lara, please save Paige this once. As long as you’re willing to save Paige, I’ll do anything for you!” The people around us couldn’t stand it anymore. Not only were there angry shouts, but someone even morally blackmailed me: “If you don’t save this child today and she dies, you’ll be a murderer!” Peter played the righteous hero, making the decision for me: “You’re going to donate blood to Paige right now. If you don’t donate, we’re getting divorced!” With that, he grabbed my hand and forcefully dragged me toward the blood draw station.

Behind me, Bella triumphantly thanked me loudly, saying Paige would remember my kindness for the rest of her life. I looked at Bella, who thought she had victory in the bag, and forcefully broke free from Peter’s grip. Following Bella’s example, I knelt in front of her, silently shedding tears. I cried loudly: “But I really can’t donate blood. I just found out I’m pregnant a couple days ago. I’ve been married for so many years, and it’s taken so long to finally have this child. Bella, you should understand, right?” As soon as I finished speaking, Bella immediately screamed: “Impossible! How could you possibly be pregnant?” Peter was also skeptical about my pregnancy. He insisted it was a misdiagnosis and told me not to believe it. Looking at the two panicked people in front of me, my heart sank slightly. Could it be that my years of infertility were their doing? I suppressed the panic in my heart and looked at Bella apologetically: “I really can’t donate blood. Bella, as a mother yourself, you should understand me.” Bella still wouldn’t give up, persistently denying the fact of my pregnancy. Even when I placed the pregnancy test results in front of her, she insisted I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Peter also accused me with righteous indignation: “How could you make up being pregnant just to avoid donating blood to save someone?” Seeing how certain they both looked, I couldn’t help but laugh: “Who told you I can’t get pregnant? The doctors all said there’s nothing wrong with me.” Bella helplessly tapped my forehead with her finger, looking at me with mild reproach: “Lara, have you forgotten? The pre-marital medical report clearly stated you’re one hundred percent unable to conceive.” Peter turned his head away with an expression of reluctance to discuss it, obviously agreeing with Bella’s statement. Everyone mocked and ridiculed me, saying I was pretending to be pregnant just to avoid donating blood, no wonder I didn’t have children. Several emotionally agitated middle-aged women even pointed at me and cursed: “You don’t have children because you’ve done nothing but evil!” “You better do some good deeds, or you’ll go to hell when you die!” With the support of the onlookers, Bella and Peter became even more smug. The corners of my mouth turned up slightly as I suggested getting another pregnancy test at the hospital. Bella hesitated, but I immediately said: “Don’t tell me you don’t even trust the hospital you found for Paige? This isn’t some fake hospital, is it?” Hearing me question the hospital, the patients’ families immediately defended it, saying the hospital was nationally ranked and absolutely couldn’t make mistakes. I raised an eyebrow at the two standing together. After exchanging glances, they agreed to my suggestion. The test results came back quickly. Peter volunteered to get the report. He looked at the pregnancy test in his hands for a long while without saying anything. I was confident, believing my pregnancy was absolutely undeniable. But the next second, Peter held up the test results and accused me with heartbreak: “Honey, you’re clearly not pregnant. Why won’t you just admit it?” I instinctively protested. In my past life, I watched my belly grow day by day—how could I not have been pregnant? Bella’s mouth fell open as she stepped back several paces, muttering: “Do you hate seeing me have children so much? You even want to take away my only hope. You’re trying to drive me to death!” She burst into tears and collapsed to the ground. Peter rushed over to help her up, glaring at me viciously: “You were the one who demanded the test. The results are out, but you still won’t admit it. I never should have married such a vicious woman!” With that, Peter handed the pregnancy test to the onlookers. After everyone looked at it, they all concluded I was faking pregnancy. The last man to read it threw the test results at me with disgust: “It clearly says you’re not pregnant—this can’t be faked.” I picked up the fallen test results in disbelief. It indeed stated I wasn’t pregnant, and there was even a small line saying I had no reproductive capacity whatsoever. Looking at Peter’s heartbroken expression over the results, I felt a chill. What hospital pregnancy test would specify lack of reproductive capacity? I forced myself to stay calm and pointed to that small line, saying the test was fake. A scoff came from the crowd, and a doctor in a white coat emerged from the group. She pushed up her glasses and declared forcefully:

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My husband Rhys Rowe insisted on having his childhood friend, intern Edith Mack, serve as his assistant surgeon during a heart transplant operation. When I pointed out that Edith shouldn’t be wearing nail polish during surgery, Rhys actually left the operating room mid-procedure to comfort her. I begged him to come back and continue the surgery, but he said, “Edith is upset. Can’t you stop being unreasonable? Let’s pause the surgery for a bit. How could this trivial matter be more important than Edith?” The patient was left on the operating table for 40 minutes and died from excessive blood loss. We later learned that the patient was the city’s mayor. Rhys and Edith actually blamed me for this medical malpractice incident. They claimed, “If you hadn’t driven us out of the operating room, how would the mayor have died from blood loss? This is all your fault!” In the end, I couldn’t defend myself and was sentenced to life imprisonment, suffering torture in prison until I died. Meanwhile, Rhys and Edith got married. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the mayor was having surgery at our hospital. “Maxine Guerra, Rhys is the attending physician. He said I could wear nail polish during surgery. What right does an assistant doctor like you have to boss me around?” Hearing the familiar voice beside me, I instinctively opened my eyes and saw Edith standing there with an arrogant expression. I looked around. The operating room was in the middle of a heart transplant surgery. To ensure a sterile environment, everyone was fully suited up. Everyone except Edith, who not only had her nails done but wasn’t even wearing a mask. At that moment, I was certain I had been reborn—reborn on the day of the mayor’s surgery. In my previous life, when Rhys was performing the heart transplant, he insisted on having his childhood friend, intern Edith, as his assistant surgeon. Edith grabbed the wrong surgical instruments, didn’t follow basic operating room protocols, and nearly let her nail polish fall into the patient’s body. I couldn’t help but criticize her for wearing nail polish during surgery. She thought I was deliberately targeting her and stormed out in anger. Rhys actually abandoned the patient and ran out of the operating room to comfort her. I begged him to come back and continue the surgery, but he said, “Edith is heartbroken. Stop being unreasonable. Let’s pause the surgery for now. How could this trivial matter be more important than Edith?” The patient was left on the operating table for 40 minutes and died from excessive blood loss. When we learned afterward that the patient was the mayor, Rhys and Edith actually blamed me for the medical malpractice. They said, “If you hadn’t gone crazy in the operating room and driven us out, how would the mayor have died from blood loss! This is all your doing!” I couldn’t defend myself and was sentenced to life imprisonment, suffering endless torture in prison until I died. Meanwhile, Rhys and Edith got married and became the youngest chief and deputy chief in the hospital’s history. I had just snapped back from my memories when I saw Rhys frowning and scolding me, “Maxine, this is an operating table, not a place for you to throw tantrums. I approved her wearing nail polish. Apologize to Edith.” Looking at Edith’s smug expression, I suppressed my anger. “Why should I? The operating room clearly prohibits nail polish. I’m not wrong.” Edith’s face darkened. “Maxine, you’re deliberately targeting me, aren’t you? Fine, I’m leaving.” She threw the scalpel onto the operating table, and one of them nearly cut the patient’s aorta. Panicked and furious, I had just picked up the scalpel when I saw Rhys about to chase after Edith. I said sternly, “Rhys, the patient’s chest cavity is already open. We must complete the heart transplant immediately, or he’ll be in mortal danger. You’re a doctor—are you going to watch a patient die?” He looked toward where Edith had left, then at the patient on the operating table, and reluctantly picked up the scalpel again. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when Rhys’s phone rang. It was Edith calling.

Rhys put the call on speaker, and Edith’s angry voice came through: “If you don’t come comfort me right now, I’m really going to be mad.” Rhys patiently tried to calm her down: “Edith, I’ll come see you as soon as I finish this surgery.” Edith snorted: “If you’re not here in five minutes, I’m going to get an abortion and make sure you never become a father.” Hearing the news of Edith’s pregnancy, I felt shocked and heartbroken. In my past life, I had always thought Rhys only got together with Edith after I went to prison. Turns out they’d been together all along, and even had a child on the way. Before I could recover from the shock of Edith’s pregnancy, I saw Rhys rushing toward the operating room exit. I quickly grabbed his arm: “Rhys, you can’t leave. The patient’s surgery can’t be delayed.” Rhys glared at me angrily: “Didn’t you hear Edith say she’s going to get an abortion? If I don’t go now, it’ll be too late.” I frowned: “What about the patient?” Rhys waved dismissively: “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Just a few minutes – it won’t delay anything.” I stared at Rhys in disbelief. Heart transplant surgery was already a race against time – every minute of delay put the patient in greater danger. In my past life, the patient had died precisely because too much time was wasted. With this thought, I gripped Rhys tightly, not letting him leave. Rhys was both anxious and furious: “Maxine, are you deliberately blocking me because you want Edith to get an abortion?” Just as I was about to explain, Rhys shoved me hard. I lost my balance and fell to the ground, my back hitting the operating table heavily. I couldn’t help but groan. Rhys didn’t even look at me before turning and striding away. The other people in the operating room quickly helped me up. “Dr. Guerra, are you okay? Dr. Rowe went too far. It’s one thing to defend Edith all the time, but now he’s actually laying hands on you because of her.” “Exactly. I always thought there was something going on between them, but I never imagined they already had a child together.” I waved my hand: “Now’s not the time to discuss this. I need to go find Rhys and bring him back.” More important than Rhys’s betrayal was the patient’s surgery. This time, I absolutely couldn’t let the tragedy from my past life repeat itself. I had just chased him to the operating room entrance when the patient’s family surrounded me. “Doctor, how is the patient? Was the surgery successful?” I immediately recognized them as the mayor’s family. Just as I was about to answer, I saw Mayor Christmas’s mother pleading with me: “Doctor, please, you must save my son.” The mayor’s wife, seven months pregnant, was also crying: “Doctor, everyone says only your hospital can perform this surgery on my husband. Please, you must save him.” I solemnly assured them: “Don’t worry, I will definitely save him.” Unable to find Rhys, I could only return to the operating room. Everyone immediately gathered around, looking behind me: “Dr. Guerra, where’s Dr. Rowe?” I shook my head: “I couldn’t catch up to him.” The anesthesiologist said anxiously: “The patient is under general anesthesia right now with his chest cavity open. If we don’t operate soon, when the anesthesia wears off, the pain will kill him. Dr. Rowe is the only one in the entire city who can perform this surgery. Even if we called for outside help now, it would be too late.” I took a deep breath: “I’ll perform the surgery. Rhys and I were classmates – anything he can do, I can do too.” Everyone present rejected the idea without hesitation. “Dr. Guerra, you’re currently just an assistant physician. Hospital regulations don’t allow you to be the lead surgeon.” “Why don’t you call Dr. Rowe and ask him to come back as soon as possible?” Seeing their firm stance, I ultimately couldn’t bring myself to tell them the truth that Rhys wouldn’t be coming back, and could only call him.

As soon as the call connected, I asked urgently, “Where are you? Come back quickly, we’re still waiting for you to perform the surgery.” Rhys replied angrily, “Edith is upset. Can you stop being unreasonable? The surgery is postponed until Edith feels better, then I’ll come back.” With that, he hung up. Everyone present exchanged bewildered glances. The anesthesiologist couldn’t help but angrily rebuke, “For such an important surgery, the patient will be dead by the time he returns! Dr. Guerra, call him again. We must get him here immediately. If something happens to the patient, we’ll all be held responsible.” I had no choice but to call Rhys again: “The patient is dying. You need to get back here now.” Rhys said impatiently, “Heart transplant surgery is inherently high-risk. If he dies, it’s just bad luck.” I never expected Rhys to say something so irresponsible. I questioned him, “If something happens to the patient and the family comes to the hospital to cause trouble, can you handle the responsibility when the hospital investigates?” Rhys sneered, “He’s just a powerless patient. If they dare cause trouble, just say they’re only after money. Stop calling me. Edith wants strawberries, and I need to go buy them for her now.” Looking at the disconnected phone, everyone was furious. “He left in the middle of surgery to buy strawberries for Edith. He doesn’t deserve to be a doctor!” Just then, the anesthesiologist suddenly exclaimed, “The patient’s blood pressure is dropping rapidly. If we don’t operate now, he’ll die!” I stepped forward: “I’ll do it.” Seeing their hesitation, I said firmly, “Besides me, no one else can perform this surgery right now. Are you going to just watch him die?” The anesthesiologist hesitated, “But this goes against protocol. Even if you save him, you’ll have to bear all the consequences of this surgery.” I said calmly, “Whatever the consequences afterward, I’ll take full responsibility. There’s no time now. I hope you’ll cooperate with me.” The other medical staff looked at each other and made up their minds. I walked to the operating table, picked up the scalpel, first removed the patient’s heart from his chest cavity, then transplanted the prepared heart. After suturing the blood vessels one by one, I stared intently at the cardiac monitor displaying a flat line. Time passed minute by minute, and suddenly the flat line on the monitor began to fluctuate. After the heartbeat stabilized, everyone cried out in joy, “Dr. Guerra, there’s a heartbeat! The surgery was successful!” I didn’t speak, focusing on suturing the patient’s chest cavity. After the surgery was completely finished, I collapsed weakly to the ground. Only then did I realize my back was already soaked with sweat. An hour later, the patient woke up. That’s when everyone learned he was Mayor Cesar Hodges. In the hospital room, I was conducting Cesar’s post-operative examination. After confirming that the heart transplant surgery had been extremely successful, I finally let out a long sigh of relief. Cesar smiled at me: “I heard you performed my surgery. Thank you. But I remember my attending physician was Dr. Rowe. Why isn’t he here? Did something happen?” Just as I was about to answer, Rhys’s call came through. Cesar glanced at the caller ID: “It’s Dr. Rowe calling. Go ahead and take it here.” I pressed the speakerphone button, and Rhys’s voice came through: “Where are you right now? Come to Edith’s place immediately.” “I’m doing a post-operative check on a patient. The heart transplant surgery was very successful,” I replied. Rhys paused for a few seconds: “You performed the surgery? He’s really lucky. His chest was opened and he lay on the operating table for forty minutes, and he’s still alive. What a shame—I was hoping to use his corpse for research.” I caught sight of Cesar’s furious expression and reminded him: “Rhys, watch your language. We’re doctors. Treating patients is our duty.” Rhys said dismissively: “What’s worth saving about these ordinary people? They have no power, no influence. Living is just a waste of social resources. The only value these people have while alive is letting us practice and improve our medical skills.” Hearing such arrogant words, I couldn’t help but gasp, and Cesar’s face turned extremely dark. Rhys, unaware of this, continued: “You upset Edith earlier and made her stomach hurt. Come apologize to her within half an hour. Oh, and Edith wants to eat food you’ve cooked, so pick up groceries on your way.” Listening to Rhys ordering me around, I said coldly: “The patient just had surgery. I need to stay here for observation in case of complications.” Rhys didn’t expect me to refuse and said angrily: “No matter how dangerous his condition is, could it be more important than Edith not getting her meal? The surgery’s done anyway. Even if he really dies, that’s just his fate. Don’t make me say it twice—come here now!” Looking at the disconnected call, I felt deeply disappointed. I never imagined that in Rhys’s eyes, ordinary people’s lives were worth absolutely nothing. Cesar was equally furious and said angrily: “For the sake of his mistress, he abandons a patient on the operating table. Rhys is a disgrace to the medical profession!” Due to his excessive agitation, Cesar couldn’t help but start coughing. I quickly patted his back gently to help him: “Mr. Hodges, you just had heart transplant surgery. You absolutely cannot get angry.” Cesar calmed down: “You’re right. This kind of person isn’t worth my anger. Since Rhys thinks being a doctor makes him superior and doesn’t value ordinary people’s lives, then I’ll make sure he can’t be a doctor anymore.” He looked at his assistant: “Starting today, revoke Rhys’s medical license and ban him from reapplying for life.”

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Prologue To cure my adopted younger brother’s depression, Chandra Thorn-my childhood sweetheart and fiancée who grew up with me in the orphanage—chose to betray me. She secretly registered her marriage with him. Not long after, my brother inherited all of my birth parents’ private hospitals and pharmaceutical companies. In a fit of rage, I agreed to a marriage alliance with Winona Lowell, heiress to a California real estate empire. On our wedding day, she confessed tearfully that she had loved me for 14 years in silence and had finally waited long enough to call me hers. After the wedding, I brought along my beloved Steinway piano and moved into the Beverly Hills villa under Winona’s name, cutting off all contact with the Xander family. For the next seven years, I spoiled her to the bone. We spent every night entangled in passion, and she clung to me as if starved for touch. The world saw her as a ruthless businesswoman, but only I knew she couldn’t fall asleep without me in her arms. Even when traveling for business, she insisted on video calling me before bed. I truly believed I had finally found happiness. Until one night, after we made love, I went to the bathroom to clean up—only to accidentally overhear her on a phone call with her bestie on the balcony: “Yvon is back in LA and opening a new medical lab. You’re still not divorcing Evan?” Winona’s voice drifted in through the door, laced with a contempt I’d never heard before. “You think I enjoy screwing him? Though I’ll admit, his pianist fingers aren’t bad…” “In the end, it’s just being with someone you don’t love. What’s the difference? And I need to keep an eye on him. I can’t let him threaten what Yvon worked so hard to inherit.” My hands shook as I opened her study computer. In a hidden folder labeled “Lab M”, I found over a hundred thousand photos of Yvon Xander. • “White coat close-up from med school graduation.” • “Candid from international medical forum.” The most recent one was taken just last week—while she was supposedly on a business trip. In the corner of the image, her signature red nail polish was unmistakable. There were also a hundred unsent love letters. If I still refused to see the truth, then I truly deserved to be deceived. I bought a synthetic corpse online and set a fire. From this day forward, not even death would reunite us. *** I cleared the fogged-up mirror and stared at my pale face and bloodshot eyes. Water droplets slid down the ends of my hair. The scent of Winona’s perfume still clung to my skin, mingling with the mint of the body wash—a strange, almost eerie harmony. “Evan, need a towel?” Her voice came through the door, drowsy and satisfied from what we’d just done. “No, I’m good. Almost done.” My knuckles whitened as I pressed down on the edge of the sink. Fifteen minutes ago, we were still tangled together in the bedroom of the Beverly Hills mansion she owned. Winona had been unusually passionate today, her nails raking red lines across my back like she needed proof I was real. Today marked our seventh wedding anniversary. I thought it was her way of showing love. Until I overheard her conversation with her best friend. Winona stood on the balcony, her back to me, phone pressed to her ear, city lights of Los Angeles glittering in the dark. “Of course I know—Yvon gets back LA today.” My steps froze. “You think I actually enjoy screwing him?…” She lowered her voice gradually, but each word stabbed into me like a blade. The doorframe creaked beneath my hand. She turned at the sound. “Evan? Is that you…?” I’d already slipped back into the bathroom and locked the door. The man in the mirror stared back at me—eyes red, lips twitching in silent tremors. So this was the truth. Seven years of marriage. Fourteen years of secret love. All of it—lies. She’d never loved me. It was always Yvon Xander—the man my father adopted as my “brother”. I cranked the faucet to full. Ice-cold water blasted down my body. The roar drowned everything else, except the shards of memory stabbing into my mind like broken glass— The glances she exchanged with Yvon at every family gathering. How she always left the room when I played “Mariage d’Amour.” The way her gaze burned through the veil on our wedding day—aimed not at me, but at the best man. Seven years ago, when my fiancée Chandra Thorn chose Yvon over me, I thought I’d lost everything. Then Winona appeared, promising to erase all my pain. How ironic. The two women I trusted most… both chose Yvon. I turned off the water, dried myself off. By the time I opened the bathroom door, I’d already put on the perfect mask. Winona sat at the edge of the bed, hands clenched, knuckles white. She looked up. “Just now, I—” “What were you talking about with friend?” I cut her off, voice calm as I walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a robe. I turned around—and met her perfectly painted smile. “Nothing important…” She had stood on the balcony for quite a while. Now, after warming up indoors, she cautiously wrapped her arms around me from behind. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” “Waiting for you, so we can sleep together.” She rubbed my back with her full breasts. That familiar softness, that warmth I used to treasure—now it only made my heart ache. For seven years, I had adored her. Spoiled her. In the circles of California’s elite, everyone knew Winona Lowell was madly in love with her classical pianist husband. She once said she’d fallen for me at first sight. That she’d secretly loved me for fourteen years. At our wedding, she cried while confessing she never imagined I would actually marry her. She knew everything about my past. She used her family’s influence to fight against Chandra Thorn after she left me, and even tried to sabotage Yvon’s pharmaceutical ventures for my sake. She said she resented anyone who’d ever hurt me. She played her part so well—better than any Oscar-winning actress. She always liked to call me Evan right before she came — but the tone was always… off. I used to think it was just her voice trembling from pleasure. But looking back now, I’m afraid she was calling my brother’s name — Yvon — all along. I looked down and quietly unclenched my fist, smoothing the veins rising on my hand. She didn’t notice. She kept talking. “Your brother opened a new lab in LA. The government’s hosting a ceremony in two days. Stay home with me, okay? I don’t want you running into him and getting upset.” I silently counted—this was at least the hundredth time she’d come up with an excuse to keep me from attending public events. I used to think she was just possessive, loving me too much. So I tolerated everything. At the peak of my music career, I chose to retire early. I distanced myself from the pharmaceutical world, even though I had a more advanced medical license than Yvon—and a degree in business management on top of it. Now I know—it was all to clear the path for him. “I’ve got a meeting with Tina tomorrow,” I said casually. “She asked me to perform at her promotion ceremony in three days. I promised I’d go.” “That Tina looks at you like she wants to eat you alive. I’m worried she’s after your good looks.” She even pretended to be jealous. She knew I never cared for fame or fortune, only classical piano. And I was good at it. I once told her: playing at the Burbank Music Hall was my dream. Tina’s ceremony would be held there—in just three days. Tina was both a fan and a friend. She had invited me specially. But Yvon always mocked my music, and Winona used that to her advantage. She’d repeatedly guilt me into quitting, claiming she feared female groupies would try to seduce me. When I didn’t respond, she pouted slightly, “Honey, can’t you just give me a little more reassurance? There will always be parties, but our time together is what really matters, isn’t it?” I forced a smile. “Don’t worry. On that day, I’ll give you a surprise gift.” The freshly changed sheets smelled faintly of lavender. I picked up my phone and pulled up the floor plan for the concert hall. Burbank Music Hall. Wooden architecture. Outdated electrical systems. A perfect venue. My fingers swiped across the screen, marking key spots. The fuse box beneath the piano. The curtain control rigs. The backstage emergency exits. A plan was forming—A fire spectacular enough to make headlines, yet harmless to others. I glanced at her sleeping face, peaceful and sated. And in my heart, I whispered— Just three more days, Winona. Then I’ll disappear from your world—forever.

Two days later, I attended the opening ceremony of the laboratory that Yvon Xander had invested in. Winona linked her arm with mine as we entered, and all eyes turned toward us — the perfect pairing of California’s real estate queen and her pianist husband. “Mr. Xander!” Tina waved at me, beside her, Yvon smiled brightly. Tina Thompson, Director of California’s Urban Planning Department, , was an audience I saved at my solo recital six months ago. She had suffered a sudden heart attack, and I had used my trained emergency skills to pull her back from death. Today she wore a crisp white suit, her blonde hair pinned up—a striking contrast to the sea of evening gowns. “Mr. Xander,” she took my hand, her blue eyes sincere as she leaned in to whisper, “The development permit for that land has been approved. Mrs. Xander’s project can move forward on schedule.” I was surprised. “So soon?” “Well, you did save my life.” She chuckled softly, “Plus, the project really does have great potential.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Winona being introduced by Yvon to several investors. “Winona is really lucky,” Tina said, her voice lowering as she leaned in just slightly. Her eyes locked onto mine—bold, admiring, and unmistakably suggestive. “To have a man like you—talented, loyal… and so incredibly perfect.” I felt the weight of her gaze, intense enough to make my throat tighten. I looked away, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. There was no point in telling her the land was my last gift to Winona. Yvon stepped forward. “What’s got you and Tina so happy?” he asked with a grin. Winona’s gaze flickered between Tina and me, her red lips pressing into a thin line. “I was praising Mr. Xander’s piano talents,” Tina said with a smile. “He’s invited to support me at my promotion ceremony tomorrow.” Yvon sighed dramatically, “Evan’s talent? Sure, he’s got plenty of that — just a shame it can’t make any fortune.”He cast a glance at Winona, “Good thing someone’s willing to keep him fed.” The banquet hall fell silent for a few seconds. Winona stared at her champagne flute, saying nothing. Tina raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly, “The value of one Chopin piece he plays could buy you ten hospitals.” Yvon’s face darkened immediately. Winona suddenly looked up, a flicker of emotion I couldn’t read flashing in her eyes. “Excuse me.” I set down my glass and turned away. I’d seen this act too many times over the past seven years—Yvon publicly belittling me, Winona silently allowing it, and the same old crowd laughing at the pianist’s ‘useless talent.’ The cold wind on the terrace blew away some of the alcohol’s haze. I heard the sound of heels behind me. Thinking it was Winona, I turned — but it was Tina. “Need any help?” She offered me a cigarette. I shook my head. “Only if you can give me a new identity,” I joked half-seriously. Tina’s blue eyes deepened under the moonlight. “Serious?” I froze, realizing this might be my chance. “After tomorrow’s recital… I might need to vanish for a while.” She didn’t ask why, only nodded, “Give me 24 hours.” A joyful scream suddenly burst from the banquet hall. Through the glass doors, I saw Winona almost throw herself into Yvon’s arms, visibly moved, while Yvonne waved exaggeratedly to show that it was nothing. “Mr. Xander?” Tina looked at my pale face with concern. “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “I need to prepare for tomorrow’s recital. Excuse me.” I made my escape, heading straight for the outdoor parking lot. Cold rain lashed the car roof as I slipped into it. Winona seemed displeased and followed me into the car. The moment the door clicked shut, she lunged at me—pressing me against the driver’s seat with a fierce kiss. Her fingers slid to the back of my neck, tracing the small mole there like she was reclaiming a brand. Her eyes narrowed, a glint of anger flashing beneath their half-lowered lids. “Evan Xander, you’ll only ever belong to me.” She provocatively unbuckled my belt and straddled me, about to kiss me again, when her phone vibrated. A message popped up. I glanced at the number — Yvon’s. “I forgot I still have clients to entertain…” she said smoothly, flawless in her act. I stared at her perfectly composed face, every inch a performance — then sank my teeth into her collarbone with sudden fury. Emotions like a taut string about to snap. I grabbed her neck from behind, flipped her roughly onto the leather seat. Her eyes widened, no time to resist before I crushed her with a violent kiss. It wasn’t a kiss—it was a devouring. She whimpered and struggled, but I only pressed harder, knuckles turning red as I clenched. My knee pried her legs apart firmly. I plunged in, deep and unrelenting, again and again—piercing, crushing, like I was breaking her lies with every thrust. Pain furrowed her brows, yet she gasped and gave in, hips lifted instinctively, trembling with every thrust. Outside, cold rain drummed on the car window, but inside, a burning burial raged. Before the final climax, I whispered into her ear: “This is the last time.” She paused, seemingly not understanding. Then her purse lit up. I froze, instantly pulling away and buckling my belt. I didn’t look at her again. It took a while for Winona to come back to herself. She parted her lips to ask something—then her phone rang again. She paused, then rasped, “I have to get back to the banquet.” And with that, she adjusted her gown and left. **** At three a.m., Beverly Hills was eerily silent. I stood motionless in the center of the bedroom. My suitcase lay open on the bed, packed with only essentials: passport, cash, and that original Chopin score. My phone lit up — a message from Winona: “Yvon helped me secure that land. I have to entertain a few government officials tonight. Don’t wait up.” My fingers hovered over the screen for a long time, but I didn’t reply. Yvon had sunk to shameless depths—I sneered, but wasn’t surprised. After all, he’d impersonated me more than once. Outside, Los Angeles still glittered—a sleepless city that never dims for anyone’s departure. I picked up the photo on the nightstand: Winona, leaning on my shoulder during our Maldives honeymoon, smiling as if nothing would ever change. “It was all a show from the start…” I tossed the photo into the trash and turned to the safe behind the wardrobe. Inside lay my final card — a share certificate for 3% of Xander Pharmaceuticals, quietly transferred to me by my father on my twentieth birthday. Even Yvon never knew it existed. Just as I was zipping up my suitcase, my phone buzzed. A message from Yvon — a photo of Winona, kneeling by his bed in nothing but a shirt, holding a bowl of sobering soup. [Thanks for training Winona so well, big brother.] And another line of text, [By the way, check the safe in her study. Surprise awaits.] I went straight to the study. The safe was hidden behind an original Monet. What was the code? Our wedding date? No. Yvon’s birthday? I tried—and it opened immediately. Inside, among some documents, lay a velvet box. Opening it revealed a pair of platinum rings glittering under the light — similar in style to mine and Winona’s wedding bands but engraved inside with “W&I 4ever.” My phone started vibrating relentlessly. Yvon’s texts came flooding in like snowflakes: [Did you know Winona’s always loved me?] [Her marriage to you was just to stop you from stealing my inheritance!] [She said the only way she could fuck you was by imagining you were me.] [She was too excited on my bed tonight, so she’s a bit sleepless. I gave her medicine. Tomorrow, during your recital, she’ll probably still be in my bed. She won’t even show up. Evan Xander, everything that belongs to you will become mine — including Winona.] I slammed my phone against the wall, shards scattering. The cracked screen reflected my twisted face… I took a deep breath. Then another. Anger would ruin the carefully laid plans. As the first morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, my heart was cold again — sharp as a surgeon’s blade. I took out the SIM card, snapped the phone in two, and threw the pieces into the trash.

The sound of the suitcase snapping shut echoed sharply in the silence. I left the signed divorce papers under Winona’s favorite champagne glass, pressing them down. In the dim light before dawn, I drove toward the Burbank Concert Hall. There was still fog ahead, but it didn’t matter. I’ve always made it through to the morning. The concert hall lights glowed like a haze through the rainy night. “Are you sure about this?” Tina asked over the phone. “Faking your death is a felony.” I glanced at the mannequin in the dressing room, dressed identically in my performance suit. “Worse than pretending to love someone for seven years?” I replied. Winona’s betrayal and Yvon’s mocking laughter last night still echoed in my mind. Backstage was deserted. It took me two hours to set everything up—the timed ignition device, scattered traces of life in the dressing room. Everything had to be perfect, just like every note I’ve ever played. By noon, the staff had begun to arrive. I lay backstage, feigning rest, while carefully tracking everyone’s movements—the stage manager, lighting crew, security—memorizing every location to ensure no one would be hurt in the fire. Tina had planted her people with the fire and police departments. Once the fire broke out, the “corpse” would be reduced to something beyond recognition. “Mr. Xander, you look pale,” the young makeup artist said, concern in her eyes. “Just nerves,” I forced a smile. “Today’s program is… demanding.” Especially the last piece: Funeral March. A requiem for dead love, dead trust, and the soon-to-be-dead Evan Xander. By 6 p.m., the audience began to file in. I stood backstage, peeking through a gap in the curtain at the growing crowd. At precisely 7 o’clock, the performance was set to begin. “Five minutes, Mr. Xander,” the stage manager whispered. I nodded, adjusting the platinum tie clip Winona gave me three days ago—the anniversary gift. Ironically, it would be the key identifier on my “body.” “Mr. Xander? It’s time.” The stagehand’s voice pulled me back. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. All 700 seats were filled under the glow of the spotlight. Bow. Sit. The moment my fingers touched the keys, the world fell silent. They danced across the keyboard while my soul floated above it all, watching the farewell like a ghost. Moonlight Sonata mourned, Revolutionary Etude raged, Mariage d’Amour wept—each one telling a chapter of my life. Before the final piece, I glanced into the audience. In the VIP section, Tina sat alone, nodding slightly, her blue eyes shining with unease under the dim light. “The next piece is Chopin’s Funeral March,” I said into the mic, my voice echoing through the hall. “Dedicated to all that once was beautiful… and is no more.” The first note fell. A soft click came from inside the piano. The timer had started. In three minutes, the flames would rise. The music surged like a tide, each note peeling back my wounds, raw and bleeding. By the second movement, I smelled smoke. People began to shift, uneasy—but the music still held them captive. Third movement. A thread of smoke rose from beneath the piano. —Time to go. “Fire!” someone finally screamed. Chaos erupted instantly. I kept playing until the flames licked the piano lid. Fire shot up from the stage like a monster unchained. “Mr. Xander! Get out!” a stagehand grabbed my arm. Tina stood still. Our eyes met. She gave the faintest nod. “My sheet music!” I shouted, feigning panic. “It’s still in there!” I broke free and ran back into the flames. I darted backstage through the smoke and pressed the platinum tie clip into the mannequin’s plastic finger joints. Then I slipped out the side exit—just as planned. Tina’s car was already waiting. Behind me, the dome of the concert hall began to collapse, firelight swallowing the LA’s skyline. A black sedan pulled up to the alley on cue. I slid into the backseat. The driver said nothing, just handed me an envelope. A new passport. New name: Victor Ducrest. Swiss-American. “To the airport,” I rasped. “Don’t look back.” As we drove off, the fire truck sirens wailed through the city. I rolled down the window and tossed my phone into a passing garbage truck. Let it all turn to ash. At Yvon’s villa, Winona slept deeply, unaware of it all. Calls from the Lowell family’s butler kept lighting up her screen. She grunted and silenced them in her sleep. After a dozen attempts, she finally stirred, sensing something was wrong. “What is it?” “Miss… Mr. Xander—he… the piano caught fire during the concert… He was burned alive!” “We tried everything, but… it was too late.”

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When he found his urologist to be his brother’s fiancée – the first beauty in the country, he panicked and tried to escape, only to be gently caressed by her, “You know, your brother is impotent. And you…” With that she bent down, staring at the unusual bulge of his manhood. “You are so sensitive.” Then she swallowed the tip deep, down her throat. *** Ethan Shaw sat in the hospital waiting room, his knuckles tapping lightly against his knee as his gaze remained fixed on the examination room door. He was here for a pre-employment physical. With top grades in his year, he had finally landed a summer internship at a listed company—only to be stalled by a so-called “private examination” at the hospital. “Ethan Shaw.” The door opened, and a voice called out—cool, crisp, and emotionless. He looked up—and froze. Standing at the door was a woman in a white lab coat. Her figure was graceful, her features sharply refined, her skin nearly translucent in its fairness. That face—he knew it too well. Vivian Reed. His brother Ryan’s fiancée. Ryan, the so-called eldest son of the Shaw family, was in fact just the bastard child of their father’s long-time mistress. “Come in,” Vivian said without even glancing at him, her tone all businesslike. Maybe she didn’t recognize him. After all, he’d grown up in boarding schools and only started coming home on weekends since entering college. But he knew her. He knew her so well, it ached. He even kept a hidden photo of her in his drawer. She was, after all, the most beautiful woman in the country. Ethan stiffened and stepped into the exam room, perching awkwardly on the examination bed. Sweat slicked his palms. His entire body was taut—like a live wire. “Take off your pants. I need to perform a peripheral check,” Vivian said calmly as she pulled on a pair of gloves. Ethan’s face flushed deep red. “C-Can I… ask for another doctor?” “Why?” She looked up, her eyes cool and unreadable. “I’m the attending physician. Are you questioning my credentials?” Gritting his teeth, Ethan closed his eyes and complied. As the exam progressed, the air between them grew thick, charged. Her gloved fingers brushed over the sensitive tip of his length—clinical, or intentional? He couldn’t tell. Just as his heart felt ready to burst out of his chest, he heard a soft laugh escape her lips. “So sensitive.” His eyes snapped open—Vivian was staring straight at his aroused shaft, an unreadable glint in her gaze. Admiration? Curiosity? “You—” He moved to cover himself, but she caught his wrist in a swift, practiced motion. “Don’t move,” she murmured. “We’re not done yet.” Then, slowly—deliberately—she peeled off her gloves and reached out with bare hands. One wrapped around his flushed tip. The other fondled the swollen sac below with a practiced touch. “P-Please… stop…” Ethan gasped, already at his limit. But the next second shattered whatever control he had left. Vivian Reed bent down—and took him into her mouth. … Shame and disbelief nearly drove Ethan mad. When the exam finally ended, he scrambled to put on his pants and rushed out of the hospital like he was fleeing a crime scene. His heart pounded like a drum all the way home. But just as he dropped his backpack, he froze. He found something buried inside—a white lace panty, still carrying her familiar scent. He sat dazed on the edge of his bed, mind blank. When he stepped into the shower and looked into the mirror, he caught sight of a faint love bite on his neck. “Shit…” he hissed, biting back a groan as he remembered the way her fingers had brushed over his Adam’s apple. His body burned with heat, a confusing blend of rage, shame… and desire. He knew this was wrong. She was his brother’s fiancée. But those eyes— They had dared him. Mocked him. Vivian Reed, are you out of your mind? After the shower, he stepped out with a towel around his neck—only to hear Ryan’s voice from the living room: “Ethan, I heard you went for a physical today? What’s the matter—something wrong down there? Want me to recommend a urologist?” Ryan lounged on the sofa, legs arrogantly crossed, smirking like a victorious fox. “I’m perfectly fine,” Ethan said coldly. “Tsk, such a temper.” Ryan sneered. “Don’t forget—you’re living and eating off the Shaw family. Or more precisely, off my mom and dad.” Ethan clenched his jaw and said nothing. Ever since his mother died ten years ago, everything had changed. His home was no longer his. His father was no longer his father. That mistress and her bastard son had moved in. His mother’s portrait was taken down. His room was given to Ryan. He was sent to boarding school. And the Shaw Group’s shares? Transferred entirely to Ryan. He was nothing but a living, breathing nobody. “Oh, by the way,”Ryan said lazily, “my fiancée will be at tonight’s dinner. Try not to embarrass yourself.” Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. Images from this morning flashed before his eyes—and his pants tightened again. Does she even know I’m her future brother-in-law?

The night was heavy and still as the gates of the Shaw estate slowly opened. Vivian Reed stood at the entrance, holding a box of tonic supplements in her hand, a perfectly measured smile resting on her lips. It was Ethan who opened the door. Their eyes met—and for a moment, time stopped. The air thickened, as if someone had seized it by the throat. But she only tilted her head slightly, her voice polite and distant. “Hello, may I ask if tonight’s family dinner is being held here?” Her tone was calm, unhurried, as clear and detached as a stranger’s. Ethan’s throat bobbed, his fingers tightening against the doorframe. He gave a low “Mm,” and stepped aside. “Come in.” As she passed by, her fingertips brushed across the back of his hand. It wasn’t accidental—it felt deliberate, as if to drag him back into the chaos of the morning. The dinner had already begun. “Vivian, come sit next to Ryan,” Ethan’s stepmother Karen said warmly, pulling her toward the long table. She sat beside Ryan Shaw, gently serving him food and pouring his wine, smiling with the gentle ease of the perfect fiancée—at least, in the eyes of others. Ethan’s father Victor Shaw watched the loving pair with satisfaction, nodding in approval. Only Ethan sat across from the scene, like an invisible figure in a family portrait. He spaced out and dropped his fork, bending down to pick them up. And then he froze. Beneath the tablecloth, Vivian’s legs were crossed, her skirt had ridden high, and she wasn’t wearing any underlayers. That flash of white nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. Her red-soled heels dangled slowly, teasingly. Ethan’s pupils contracted. His heartbeat erupted in his chest. He stood abruptly, feigning calm. But then, under the table, her foot slid forward—brushing against his knee. He froze. She, however, went on as if nothing had happened, picking up a bite of food and smiling sweetly. “Ryan doesn’t like scallions. I remembered.” Ryan ruffled her hair fondly and chuckled. “Vivian’s always so thoughtful.” The others burst out laughing, teasing them. Ethan, though, felt like he was sitting on needles, his breath catching. Under the table, her foot continued to brush deeper, against his sac—soft, slow, like a snake wrapping itself around its prey. No one else noticed. Vivian turned her head slightly to glance at him, her lips curling into a subtle smile. What the hell is this woman playing at? Just as Ethan clenched his jaw and was about to stand, Victor Shaw raised his wine glass and stood up: “Everyone, since we’re all here tonight, I’d like to share some wonderful news—” The room went quiet. Victor spoke with ceremony: “Vivian and Ryan were promised to each other as children by our two families. Now that they’re of age, it’s time to formalize the union. I’ve decided—next month, at Old Mr. Reed’s birthday banquet—we’ll host their engagement ceremony. A double celebration.” “Wonderful!” Applause broke out. Vivian lowered her gaze, smiled faintly. She neither agreed nor declined. But in that moment, something dimmed in her eyes. Ethan’s heart sank. This engagement had originally been arranged for him by his late mother, Grace Sinclair, before she passed. But after he’d been sent to boarding school, Victor publicly announced that Ryan was the eldest son of the Shaw family—and the future heir to the Shaw Corporation. Even the engagement had been reassigned—from Ethan to Ryan. Vivian had only been four at the time—already a bargaining chip in this powerful alliance. — Later that night. Ethan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. All he could think about was the feel of her foot brushing against his lower part. Frustrated, he got up, threw on a jacket, and stepped out to use the bathroom. As he walked along the second-floor hallway, he heard faint sounds ahead—from Ryan’s room. The door was ajar. He hadn’t meant to look—but curiosity, and a restless urge he couldn’t name—made him stop in his tracks. He leaned in slightly. Inside, the lights were dim. Vivian was kneeling on the carpet, her shoulders bare, hair in disarray, a trace of blood on her lips. Ryan stood in front of her, grabbing her chin as he shouted, “Were you trying to seduce my brother during the toast just now?!” “I wasn’t,” she said hoarsely. “You’re being paranoid.” “You’d better not be playing games with me. Or I’ll send those photos of you to the press—” Before he finished, a harsh slap landed on her cheek, snapping her head to the side. Ethan’s mind went blank. His fists clenched tight, knuckles cracking. Bang—he kicked the door open with one furious punch.

“Stop!” Ethan Shaw burst through the door, yanking Ryan’s hand away and shielding Vivian Reed, who was trembling on her knees, behind him. A flicker of shock crossed Vivian’s bruised face—her lip split and eyes wide with disbelief. Ryan’s face twisted instantly. “What the fuck are you doing?!” “Are you insane? She’s your fiancée, not your punching bag!” Ethan was furious, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, barely restraining himself from losing control. The commotion had woken the entire Shaw estate. Lights snapped on. Footsteps thundered upstairs. Soon, Victor Shaw, his second wife Karen, and the servants all rushed to the scene. “What’s going on?” Victor frowned. “What is all this noise in the middle of the night?” Ryan sneered, his voice laced with venom. “Dad, he barged in while I was with Vivian and acted like a dick.” “Bullshit!” Ethan roared. Ryan pressed on, fueling the fire. “If you don’t believe me, ask her. He’s been staring at her all night. Something’s clearly wrong with him.” Ryan’s mother Karen threw her arms around him. “Oh, Ryan, stop—your brother has always been jealous of you. Now he wants to steal your fiancée too? It’s disgusting.” Ethan’s chest heaved with rage. All logic burned away. “That’s not true! Ethan didn’t—!” Vivian tried to speak, but Ryan jerked her toward him. The look in his eyes was a silent, cruel warning: one word, and those photos—the ones that could ruin her—would be everywhere. And then Ethan let out a bitter laugh. “Jealous of you? Of course I am. From the moment you and your mother moved in, you became the eldest son—I became nothing. You got the master bedroom, I got the storage closet. The walls are full of your happy family photos. I’m not even allowed one picture of my mom.” He turned to his father, stepped closer, eyes burning. “No one knows she was the legal wife. That woman with you now? is just a cheap streetwalker.” “That’s enough!” Victor snapped, and without warning, slapped Ethan hard across the face. Smack! The sound echoed like a thunderclap. Silence fell over the hallway. Ethan’s head jerked to the side. For a moment, his ears rang and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “You’re ruthless. Do you even remember my mother?” “If you dare stir up trouble again—get out of my house!” Victor growled through clenched teeth. Ethan didn’t argue. He just chuckled—soft, cold, and hollow. He glanced at Vivian, whose wrist was still gripped by Ryan. In his eyes: regret. And shame. Regret for losing temper towards someone who doesn’t give a fuck about him at all. Shame for being humiliated like this in front of the woman he liked since young. “Fine. I’ll leave.” Just as he was about to storm off— “Wait—” Vivian broke free from Ryan’s grasp, ran to Ethan, and whispered, “The engagement party… ten days from now. You have to come.” Ethan looked at her—a girl so small, so fragile—and gave a faint nod. Then he walked out without another word, into the pounding storm. — Ethan sat on the front steps, rain soaking his hair, lashes, and open wounds. He looked like a discarded child—battered, abandoned, and completely alone. “Mom!” he cried out into the storm. The image of her dying face flashed in his mind. Her hand on his cheek, her voice gentle: “Don’t worry, Ethan. He’ll find you one day.” But Ethan never understood what she meant—even after she was gone. The one person who had truly loved him, gone forever. Then, through the downpour, blinding headlights pierced the night. A convoy of black sedans rolled to a stop before him. Car doors opened in unison. Dozens of men in black suits stepped out with military precision, cold and composed. The man leading them held a black umbrella. He approached Ethan, bowed respectfully. “Young master. The Godfather requests your return.” Ethan looked up. His eyes were cold as steel, rain streaking down his face like tears.

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The day I received my study abroad permit, my husband, Colonel Alex Grant, was diagnosed with cancer. He begged me to give up my spot so he could live. “Leila,” he said, “only Molly’s father can cure my illness. His only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad. I’m not afraid of death, but without me, how will you and Freya survive?” Looking at Alex’s bloodshot eyes, I abandoned my studies and devoted myself to caring for him and our daughter. Yet three Christmases later, his beloved Molly Curtis returned from her studies abroad, and Alex embraced her with a kiss. “Leila is such a fool,” he said. “I’ve been faking my illness for three Christmases, and she never caught on. Thankfully she earned enough money so you didn’t have to work while studying.” Our daughter Freya Grant happily jumped into her arms, calling her “Mom.” I was completely shocked, and in my daze, I crashed into an oncoming truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to Christmas 1980, the day I received my study abroad permit. Just after getting the permit, my husband Alex hugged me and began to cry. “Leila, the doctors say I have cancer and don’t have long to live. How will you and Freya manage?” He looked utterly vulnerable. “I’m not afraid to die, but I’m worried about you and Freya!” Suppressing my disgust, I patted his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely take good care of Freya.” Alex froze. “Why aren’t you upset at all?” I deliberately put on a sad face and sighed, “What good would being upset do? This is fate. I got the opportunity to study abroad, but you’re going to die. How unfortunate.” Alex’s expression turned awkward. “Actually, there is a way to cure my illness. Molly’s father is an expert in this field. He can cure me. But his only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad.” He finally revealed his true purpose. In my previous life, he hadn’t been so quick to tell me all this because as soon as I heard about his cancer diagnosis, I panicked and immediately borrowed money for his treatment, begging others to find doctors to save him. As a result, I fell into their carefully crafted web of lies. Alex made me surrender my study permit so his first love, Molly, could take my place abroad. To save him, I had to give up my dream of studying overseas and devoted my heart and soul to our family. From that day on, I lost everything. Because of his illness, I borrowed a large sum of money from friends and family. For the next three Christmases, I worked multiple jobs to pay off the debt. But in the 80s, money wasn’t easy to come by. I had to work tirelessly at three factories every day. In reality, that money became Molly’s tuition for studying abroad and spending money for their family’s entertainment. Only before my death did I discover how completely I had been fooled. After being reborn, I would never let these people control me again. My six-year-old daughter Freya ran over and hugged Alex. “Daddy, I want Molly to be my mom. Can we go out with mom? She said she’d buy me candy!” Alex’s expression changed instantly. He quickly said, “Don’t talk nonsense! Molly is not your mother.” He glanced at me cautiously. “Leila, don’t overthink it. Molly’s just been so good to her that she misspoke. Freya doesn’t have many relatives, and Molly likes her. That’s a good thing.” I laughed inwardly. Without Alex’s encouragement behind my back, how could Freya have become so close to Molly? So he had been secretly letting Freya call Molly “mom” all along. But none of it mattered anymore. Alex and Freya both had someone they preferred, which was certainly for the best. Freya said dejectedly, “But Daddy, you told me to call her mom.” “Shut up!” Alex snapped. Freya jumped in fright, then ran away crying. In the past, I would have chased after her to comfort her, telling her Alex didn’t mean to yell and that he loved her. But now, I remained unmoved, coldly watching as she tripped over the doorstep and cried even louder. I would not keep an ungrateful child.

Three days later, I’ll be heading to California with my study permit, boarding a flight to my dream school. I ignored both of them and took all the necessary documents to my supervisor Caleb’s office to submit the divorce paperwork. Alex’s special status meant that a normal divorce procedure wouldn’t work. I wrote several pages of applications, documenting Alex and Molly’s inappropriate relationship in meticulous detail. Caleb had long noticed their unusual relationship and just sighed. “Ms. Welch, your studies abroad are also for work purposes. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely approve your divorce.” When I returned home to pack my things after completing the paperwork, Alex came back with Freya. Freya had stopped crying and was carrying a pretty transparent bag filled with various candies. I remembered Molly had bought her these candies several times before. She deliberately criticized me in front of Freya, “Leila, you’re too strict with Freya. It’s normal for children to like candy. Having a few occasionally won’t hurt.” At the time, I didn’t want to create an awkward situation, so I said nothing in front of Molly. After she left, I took away all the candy and advised Freya to eat less sweets to prevent cavities. But Molly had influenced her too deeply, and she became increasingly resistant to my restrictions. When Freya saw me, she seemed to remember all the candy I had confiscated and quickly hid the bag behind her back. I frowned instinctively. “You already have so many bad teeth. Why are you still eating so much candy?” Alex said, “Freya was crying earlier, so we bought some candy to cheer her up.” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. No wonder Freya wasn’t close to me since she was little. Alex always compromised. Moreover, Molly indulged her completely. Children can’t distinguish right from wrong, so naturally they think whoever spoils them is the good person. Sure enough, after meeting my eyes, Freya boldly shouted, “You’re a bad mom! Don’t try to take my candy! Molly is better! Molly is my real mom! I hate you!” People say children’s words are childish and funny, but sometimes a child’s words can be the most hurtful. I calmly said, “Then you can go to Molly from now on. I’m going abroad, and no one will take care of you. Let Molly be your mother from now on.” Freya pouted and threw herself into Alex’s arms, crying loudly. “Daddy, she’s a bad mom! She doesn’t want me anymore!” “Leila, stop talking nonsense!” Alex frowned and scolded me angrily. “Freya is only six years old. She doesn’t understand anything! How can you say such harsh things to her?” Looking coldly at their deep affection, I suddenly pictured my past life where Alex held Freya in one arm and embraced Molly with the other. That was truly a harmonious family of three. I sneered, “Without your indulgence, how could Freya possibly be so dependent on Molly? Alex, isn’t this what you’ve been hoping for? Don’t you want Molly to replace me as Freya’s mother and your wife?” Alex instantly became furious and shouted, “Do you have to fight with me over something so trivial? Do you have to be so harsh to a six-year-old child? “And you absolutely must study abroad, right? You don’t care at all that I might have a terminal illness, do you? “Yes, now that you have great prospects, you want to abandon me, our daughter, and this family, is that it? “Leila, you’re so selfish!” Watching him yell and judge me, trying to make me feel guilty, I found it ridiculous. “Alex, do you really have a terminal illness?” I asked. Alex opened and closed his mouth, not answering immediately. I sneered, “Why don’t we go to California together and get a re-examination at a major hospital to see if you really have a terminal illness?”

Alex was clearly flustered, but the composure he’d developed over the years quickly helped him regain his calm. “Leila, you don’t believe what I’m saying? I’m so disappointed in you!” I couldn’t tell if he was guilty or genuinely angry as he picked up Freya and left the room. I had no interest in dealing with them and continued packing my things. During our five-year marriage, I had accumulated many items, most of which were gifts from Alex, including letters he wrote before we married, overflowing with his admiration and affection for me. I kept these letters in a candy box. Now as I flipped through them one by one, looking at his familiar handwriting and the declarations of love I had memorized long ago, I still felt heartbroken. There was also a pair of dolls he brought back for me from his business trip to California, one male and one female, both incredibly cute. That night, he kissed me for the first time and promised in my ear, “Leila, I’ll love you for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come, I will always love you.” Yet in just five short years, his promises had already turned to nothing. His love had an expiration date of barely a thousand days. Alex used to be so good to me. When we were dating, he often took me cycling along small paths. The wind would blow his white shirt until it billowed out, the very picture of youthful freedom. When I was sick and had no appetite, he would specially go to the largest candy store in California to buy me sweets. He’d return after dark, yet still come to my doorstep that same night, offering those sweet candies to me. But all his kindness toward me completely vanished after Molly appeared. Molly was beautiful and came from a good family. A country girl like me couldn’t compare to her. Alex no longer prioritized me, no longer saw me as his only one, and no longer loved only me. These past few days, I had been slowly sorting through my belongings, packing everything related to him into a large box, which I then dragged out to the yard and threw directly into the garbage dump. On my way back, I passed a low flower wall and suddenly overheard Alex and Molly’s conversation. Molly’s voice was tearful: “Alex, can’t Leila really give up her spot for me? She doesn’t even speak German. What could she possibly do abroad? Why won’t she give up her place? Besides, doesn’t she care about your health at all? Are you that unimportant to her?” She was clearly trying to drive a wedge between us, but Alex couldn’t hear it at all. He embraced the sobbing Molly, tenderly stroking her head to comfort her: “Molly, don’t worry, I’ll figure out the study abroad situation. Leila always listens to me; she won’t go against my wishes.” Molly looked up at him with tear-filled eyes: “Really?” Alex nodded solemnly. Immediately, Molly’s eyes lit up. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him on the cheek: “Alex, you’re so good to me!” Alex smiled somewhat shyly. I took a deep breath, no longer interested in watching the two of them, and walked away. That night, as I lay in bed with the lights off, nearly asleep, Alex slipped under the covers. He was shirtless as he embraced me from behind, his voice husky in my ear: “Leila, are you asleep? We haven’t made love in a long time. Tonight…”

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The day I received my study abroad permit, my husband, Colonel Alex Grant, was diagnosed with cancer. He begged me to give up my spot so he could live. “Leila,” he said, “only Molly’s father can cure my illness. His only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad. I’m not afraid of death, but without me, how will you and Freya survive?” Looking at Alex’s bloodshot eyes, I abandoned my studies and devoted myself to caring for him and our daughter. Yet three Christmases later, his beloved Molly Curtis returned from her studies abroad, and Alex embraced her with a kiss. “Leila is such a fool,” he said. “I’ve been faking my illness for three Christmases, and she never caught on. Thankfully she earned enough money so you didn’t have to work while studying.” Our daughter Freya Grant happily jumped into her arms, calling her “Mom.” I was completely shocked, and in my daze, I crashed into an oncoming truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to Christmas 1980, the day I received my study abroad permit. Just after getting the permit, my husband Alex hugged me and began to cry. “Leila, the doctors say I have cancer and don’t have long to live. How will you and Freya manage?” He looked utterly vulnerable. “I’m not afraid to die, but I’m worried about you and Freya!” Suppressing my disgust, I patted his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely take good care of Freya.” Alex froze. “Why aren’t you upset at all?” I deliberately put on a sad face and sighed, “What good would being upset do? This is fate. I got the opportunity to study abroad, but you’re going to die. How unfortunate.” Alex’s expression turned awkward. “Actually, there is a way to cure my illness. Molly’s father is an expert in this field. He can cure me. But his only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad.” He finally revealed his true purpose. In my previous life, he hadn’t been so quick to tell me all this because as soon as I heard about his cancer diagnosis, I panicked and immediately borrowed money for his treatment, begging others to find doctors to save him. As a result, I fell into their carefully crafted web of lies. Alex made me surrender my study permit so his first love, Molly, could take my place abroad. To save him, I had to give up my dream of studying overseas and devoted my heart and soul to our family. From that day on, I lost everything. Because of his illness, I borrowed a large sum of money from friends and family. For the next three Christmases, I worked multiple jobs to pay off the debt. But in the 80s, money wasn’t easy to come by. I had to work tirelessly at three factories every day. In reality, that money became Molly’s tuition for studying abroad and spending money for their family’s entertainment. Only before my death did I discover how completely I had been fooled. After being reborn, I would never let these people control me again. My six-year-old daughter Freya ran over and hugged Alex. “Daddy, I want Molly to be my mom. Can we go out with mom? She said she’d buy me candy!” Alex’s expression changed instantly. He quickly said, “Don’t talk nonsense! Molly is not your mother.” He glanced at me cautiously. “Leila, don’t overthink it. Molly’s just been so good to her that she misspoke. Freya doesn’t have many relatives, and Molly likes her. That’s a good thing.” I laughed inwardly. Without Alex’s encouragement behind my back, how could Freya have become so close to Molly? So he had been secretly letting Freya call Molly “mom” all along. But none of it mattered anymore. Alex and Freya both had someone they preferred, which was certainly for the best. Freya said dejectedly, “But Daddy, you told me to call her mom.” “Shut up!” Alex snapped. Freya jumped in fright, then ran away crying. In the past, I would have chased after her to comfort her, telling her Alex didn’t mean to yell and that he loved her. But now, I remained unmoved, coldly watching as she tripped over the doorstep and cried even louder. I would not keep an ungrateful child.

Three days later, I’ll be heading to California with my study permit, boarding a flight to my dream school. I ignored both of them and took all the necessary documents to my supervisor Caleb’s office to submit the divorce paperwork. Alex’s special status meant that a normal divorce procedure wouldn’t work. I wrote several pages of applications, documenting Alex and Molly’s inappropriate relationship in meticulous detail. Caleb had long noticed their unusual relationship and just sighed. “Ms. Welch, your studies abroad are also for work purposes. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely approve your divorce.” When I returned home to pack my things after completing the paperwork, Alex came back with Freya. Freya had stopped crying and was carrying a pretty transparent bag filled with various candies. I remembered Molly had bought her these candies several times before. She deliberately criticized me in front of Freya, “Leila, you’re too strict with Freya. It’s normal for children to like candy. Having a few occasionally won’t hurt.” At the time, I didn’t want to create an awkward situation, so I said nothing in front of Molly. After she left, I took away all the candy and advised Freya to eat less sweets to prevent cavities. But Molly had influenced her too deeply, and she became increasingly resistant to my restrictions. When Freya saw me, she seemed to remember all the candy I had confiscated and quickly hid the bag behind her back. I frowned instinctively. “You already have so many bad teeth. Why are you still eating so much candy?” Alex said, “Freya was crying earlier, so we bought some candy to cheer her up.” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. No wonder Freya wasn’t close to me since she was little. Alex always compromised. Moreover, Molly indulged her completely. Children can’t distinguish right from wrong, so naturally they think whoever spoils them is the good person. Sure enough, after meeting my eyes, Freya boldly shouted, “You’re a bad mom! Don’t try to take my candy! Molly is better! Molly is my real mom! I hate you!” People say children’s words are childish and funny, but sometimes a child’s words can be the most hurtful. I calmly said, “Then you can go to Molly from now on. I’m going abroad, and no one will take care of you. Let Molly be your mother from now on.” Freya pouted and threw herself into Alex’s arms, crying loudly. “Daddy, she’s a bad mom! She doesn’t want me anymore!” “Leila, stop talking nonsense!” Alex frowned and scolded me angrily. “Freya is only six years old. She doesn’t understand anything! How can you say such harsh things to her?” Looking coldly at their deep affection, I suddenly pictured my past life where Alex held Freya in one arm and embraced Molly with the other. That was truly a harmonious family of three. I sneered, “Without your indulgence, how could Freya possibly be so dependent on Molly? Alex, isn’t this what you’ve been hoping for? Don’t you want Molly to replace me as Freya’s mother and your wife?” Alex instantly became furious and shouted, “Do you have to fight with me over something so trivial? Do you have to be so harsh to a six-year-old child? “And you absolutely must study abroad, right? You don’t care at all that I might have a terminal illness, do you? “Yes, now that you have great prospects, you want to abandon me, our daughter, and this family, is that it? “Leila, you’re so selfish!” Watching him yell and judge me, trying to make me feel guilty, I found it ridiculous. “Alex, do you really have a terminal illness?” I asked. Alex opened and closed his mouth, not answering immediately. I sneered, “Why don’t we go to California together and get a re-examination at a major hospital to see if you really have a terminal illness?”

Alex was clearly flustered, but the composure he’d developed over the years quickly helped him regain his calm. “Leila, you don’t believe what I’m saying? I’m so disappointed in you!” I couldn’t tell if he was guilty or genuinely angry as he picked up Freya and left the room. I had no interest in dealing with them and continued packing my things. During our five-year marriage, I had accumulated many items, most of which were gifts from Alex, including letters he wrote before we married, overflowing with his admiration and affection for me. I kept these letters in a candy box. Now as I flipped through them one by one, looking at his familiar handwriting and the declarations of love I had memorized long ago, I still felt heartbroken. There was also a pair of dolls he brought back for me from his business trip to California, one male and one female, both incredibly cute. That night, he kissed me for the first time and promised in my ear, “Leila, I’ll love you for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come, I will always love you.” Yet in just five short years, his promises had already turned to nothing. His love had an expiration date of barely a thousand days. Alex used to be so good to me. When we were dating, he often took me cycling along small paths. The wind would blow his white shirt until it billowed out, the very picture of youthful freedom. When I was sick and had no appetite, he would specially go to the largest candy store in California to buy me sweets. He’d return after dark, yet still come to my doorstep that same night, offering those sweet candies to me. But all his kindness toward me completely vanished after Molly appeared. Molly was beautiful and came from a good family. A country girl like me couldn’t compare to her. Alex no longer prioritized me, no longer saw me as his only one, and no longer loved only me. These past few days, I had been slowly sorting through my belongings, packing everything related to him into a large box, which I then dragged out to the yard and threw directly into the garbage dump. On my way back, I passed a low flower wall and suddenly overheard Alex and Molly’s conversation. Molly’s voice was tearful: “Alex, can’t Leila really give up her spot for me? She doesn’t even speak German. What could she possibly do abroad? Why won’t she give up her place? Besides, doesn’t she care about your health at all? Are you that unimportant to her?” She was clearly trying to drive a wedge between us, but Alex couldn’t hear it at all. He embraced the sobbing Molly, tenderly stroking her head to comfort her: “Molly, don’t worry, I’ll figure out the study abroad situation. Leila always listens to me; she won’t go against my wishes.” Molly looked up at him with tear-filled eyes: “Really?” Alex nodded solemnly. Immediately, Molly’s eyes lit up. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him on the cheek: “Alex, you’re so good to me!” Alex smiled somewhat shyly. I took a deep breath, no longer interested in watching the two of them, and walked away. That night, as I lay in bed with the lights off, nearly asleep, Alex slipped under the covers. He was shirtless as he embraced me from behind, his voice husky in my ear: “Leila, are you asleep? We haven’t made love in a long time. Tonight…”

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In my previous life, I lived to be seventy-six years old. I thought I had lived a happy life with no regrets. Until after my husband Leon Hale died, when his lawyer announced at the funeral that he had left all his assets to his beloved Ariel Bates and nothing to me. Only then did I realize what Leon truly felt for Ariel. After I calmed down, I decided to sue Ariel for taking what should have been our marital property. When my son heard the news, he imprisoned me in our home and warned me: “Dad couldn’t be with the person he loved. All he could leave Ariel was money. Mom, if you insist on suing her, I’ll cut ties with you!” Watching my son yell at me, I fainted from anger. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn in the 1970s. Everything was just beginning. In this life, I want neither husband nor son. ***** As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw my son Zayn Hale tugging at my clothes, stubbornly saying, “Mom, I want you to stay home with me! Don’t go to work!” Seeing that I didn’t respond, he pouted, his eyes immediately turning red. The familiar feeling of heartache surged within me. But when I remembered his words from my previous life—”I’ll cut ties with you”—I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I believed I was a good mother. In my previous life, I gave Zayn enough love and attention, caring for his studies and daily life. To be with him, I willingly gave up my high-paying translation job to Ariel, just so I could give Zayn a complete childhood. In the end, I gladly served as a housewife for decades. But only after my death did I learn that the reason Zayn refused to let me work that day was because Leon had told him: “If your mom goes to work, no one will take you to school anymore, no one will make you breakfast, and your classmates will mock you for being a child without a mother.” Thinking about this, I smiled bitterly. They were all so ungrateful. I said, “Zayn, you can’t get what you want by throwing tantrums. I worked hard to get this job. Why should I give it up just because you want me to stay with you?” Then, ignoring Zayn’s reaction, I walked back to my room and locked the door. Zayn froze for a moment, then rushed over and began kicking and punching the door. “Bad woman, you’re not my mom! I don’t want you to be my mom anymore!” If the old me had heard these words, I would have panicked, gone out to hug Zayn, and comforted him. But now I didn’t care. Living this life again, I only wanted to live for myself. I said, “If you don’t want me to be your mom, then tell your dad to divorce me. I can’t wait.” Zayn stood frozen. He was somehow afraid and stopped talking, running to the doorway to look outside, waiting for Leon to return. I looked around the familiar room, took a deep breath, and touched the old familiar items. When I saw our wedding photo, I finally believed completely that I had been reborn. In all the years of marriage with Leon, our only photo together was taken at our wedding. In my previous life, we lost this photo when we moved, and I was sad for a long time, but Leon never suggested taking another one with me. Now I realized it was because he no longer loved me. A familiar set of footsteps sounded, followed by coughing.

I shuddered, reflexively about to stand up. Then I realized this wasn’t my previous life anymore, and I chuckled softly. I opened the door to find Leon Christmas standing coldly in a suit outside. Next to him stood a beautiful girl, Ariel, wearing a new red gown that made her look charming and confident. She frowned at me, then tugged at Leon’s sleeve. “Leon, I don’t think Danna intentionally left Zayn outside alone. Don’t blame her.” Leon frowned at me, angrily demanding: “Danna, what’s wrong with you? Zayn is just a child, and you left him alone outside!” I looked at Zayn and sneered with contempt: “He’s nine years old already. Are you afraid he’ll get kidnapped?” Leon seemed surprised by my retort and froze in place. Ariel said, “Danna, you shouldn’t talk like that. You’ll hurt Zayn’s feelings.” I looked directly into Ariel’s eyes, and she nervously averted her gaze. “I’m his mother. If I’m not worried, why should you be?” I said. Ariel stepped back, looking flustered. “Danna, I…” Leon positioned himself protectively in front of Ariel and gave me a cold glance. “Ariel is my comrade’s daughter. Don’t be so harsh with her.” I found it amusing. So Leon knew Ariel was his comrade’s daughter, yet he clearly had feelings for her. Now it seemed they were interested in each other. Leon cleared his throat again. In my previous life, he always did this. Whenever he wanted something, he never asked directly—just coughed once and gave me a cold look, and I would dutifully bring whatever he needed. But now, I looked at Leon and pretended to be disgusted as I stepped back: “This is my room. Get out.” Leon was furious: “Tomorrow, you’ll hand over your job to Ariel. Don’t make me tell you twice.” Ariel looked at me somewhat embarrassed, though a flash of satisfaction crossed her eyes. “Danna, this wasn’t my idea, Leon insisted…” Leon explained, “Ariel needs a job immediately, or she’ll be sent back to her hometown.” I folded my arms: “Helping develop her rural hometown—isn’t that a good thing? Besides, if she needs work, why doesn’t she find her own job? Why should I give her mine?” Leon said, “Ariel’s image is more suitable for this position than yours, and I’d feel better about it. Look at yourself—you still think you can be a translator?” I examined my clothes—worn, rough, but clean. Throughout our marriage, I had given the best to him and our son, never considering myself. I rarely bought new clothes; when something tore, I just patched it up. I took a slow, deep breath and said firmly: “No.” Ariel quickly interjected, “It’s okay, Leon. I don’t necessarily need Danna’s job.” Leon’s gaze turned threatening: “If you insist on keeping this job, then let’s get divorced. And I want custody of Zayn.”

Leon stared at me. Zayn also lifted his chin proudly and said, “Bad woman, if you divorce my daddy, I won’t let you be my mommy anymore!” Leon seemed confident that I wouldn’t want a divorce because of Zayn, considering I was an orphan. Sure enough, Leon said with a hint of pity, “Danna, you know how difficult life is for children without parents. Could you really bear to let Zayn end up like you, without a happy family?” I pointed at Ariel. “Isn’t there someone right here who’s eager to be his mother?” Leon froze for a moment, panic flashing in his eyes, before raising his voice. “This is between us. Why do you keep bringing Ariel into this? Are you jealous?” I found it amusing. Leon could always easily pin some ridiculous accusation on me. “Think whatever you want,” I said, then returned to my room, grabbed some money, and left. Leon had reminded me that if I wanted to be an interpreter, I needed to buy some proper clothes. After purchasing fabric, I found my neighbor Nicole and asked her to make me some clothes. Nicole was an excellent seamstress. She said, “Danna, I just overheard your argument. Are you really divorcing your husband? He’s a military man, handsome, with a good salary. Are you really willing to leave him?” I nodded. He didn’t love me, so no matter how excellent he was, it meant nothing to me. Nicole saw my determination. She looked around and whispered in my ear, “But I suspect your husband won’t divorce you.” I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “I heard your husband’s superior hates men who cheat on their wives. So if your husband files for divorce, his career would be over.” I immediately felt worried. With complicated thoughts, I returned home. Just as I was about to enter, I heard Ariel crying inside. “Leon, why won’t Danna give me the job? I’m not trying to steal it from her. I just thought since Zayn is still young, wouldn’t it be more important for her to stay home and take care of him? I’d be willing to give her ten dollars a month from my salary.” The door was slightly ajar. I saw Leon holding Ariel in his arms, tenderly wiping away her tears. Leon said, “Ariel, trust me. She will have to give you this job, and you won’t need to pay her anything.” Then, he handed a packet of powder to Zayn. “Zayn, mix this in water and have your mother drink it.” Zayn asked curiously, “Daddy, what is this?” Leon displayed a warm smile, but I found it terrifying. “This is medicine to make your mother quiet.” Zayn clapped his little hands, laughing happily. “Great! Mom has become so annoying lately. I don’t want to hear her say those nasty things!” Zayn couldn’t wait to make me take the powder right away, to silence me forever. Ariel looked hesitantly at Leon and said, “Leon, isn’t this a bit harsh?” Leon patted her head. “Only the mute can’t be interpreters. Don’t worry, as long as she behaves herself and takes good care of Zayn from now on, I’ll give her enough to eat. I won’t let her starve.” Ariel was deeply moved. “Leon, you’re so kind!” Watching their intimate interaction, I felt nothing but disgust. In my previous life, they treated me like a servant, making me willingly serve as the Christmas family housewife for decades. In this life, just because I refused to give up my job to Ariel, they forcibly tried to poison me mute, and even thought keeping me as their diligent servant was some kind of reward? Did I owe these three something in my past life? I felt sad but looked up, forcing myself to hold back tears. After quietly leaving the courtyard, I ran to my supervisor Mark Campos’s office. I asked, “Mr. Campos, if I remember correctly, don’t we still have an overseas assignment position available?” Mark quickly pulled out a chair and poured me a cup of coffee. “Please, sit down. Weren’t you unwilling to go abroad because of your husband and child?” I shook my head. “That’s in the past now. To serve my country, I need to sacrifice my family life. Besides, they don’t need me to take care of them anymore, so I want to divorce Leon. That way I can fully devote myself to my work.” Cold sweat appeared on Mark’s forehead. “Ms. Garner, I’m glad you think this way, but if you divorce because of this, it would be my fault. I can’t break up your family.” I took a sip of coffee and told him about Leon and Ariel’s affair. Mark looked at me sympathetically. After a long pause, he sighed, “Ms. Garner, I’ll apply to the higher-ups for your divorce. You don’t need to discuss it with Leon. There’s a team heading overseas soon—you can leave with them in two days.” I bowed deeply. “Mr. Campos, thank you.” Mark patted my shoulder. “Ms. Garner, you’re the most linguistically gifted person I’ve ever met. You’re truly a genius. Work hard and serve your country well.” I nodded. “Yes, I will.” After resolving the divorce matter, I let out a huge sigh of relief. When I returned home, Zayn ran toward me enthusiastically. “Mom, I got an A on my test today.” I noticed the obvious signs that the “A” on the test paper had been altered, but I smiled without showing any reaction. Leon and Ariel were sitting in the living room, appearing normal, but I could sense something was off. They glanced in my direction, seemingly anticipating something. I smiled, bent down, and stroked Zayn’s head. “Well done. What reward would you like?” Zayn smiled somewhat triumphantly, then ran to the table to fetch a glass of water and brought it to me. “Mom, I don’t want any reward. Our teacher taught us to be considerate. Mom, you must be tired, have some water?”

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Christmas had just ended when I got into a car accident trying to save my three brothers. Yet they cried, claiming they couldn’t afford my medical bills, and insisted the doctors amputate both my legs. “Kayla, we’re sorry. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you even if we have to sell our blood or organs!” They dumped me in a rundown apartment right after my surgery, watched as my blood soaked through the sheets, then hurriedly left, claiming they needed to raise money for my medical expenses. Not wanting to burden them anymore, I endured excruciating pain trying to climb to the rooftop to end my life, only to stumble upon a luxurious hotel banquet where my brothers were surrounding another girl. She was eating a magnificent cake I’d never seen before, wearing a dress worth millions of dollars, adorned with a sparkling diamond necklace, and was addressed as the young lady of the Thompson family. A symphony orchestra, commanding over a hundred million dollars per performance, had been specially invited just to play the birthday song for her. While I was lying in agony in that apartment, they wouldn’t even spend a few dozen dollars on bandages for me. My oldest brother, Noah Thompson, personally fed cake to the girl, Chloe Thompson, saying, “Chloe, only you are our true sister.” My second brother, Walter Thompson, placed a diamond-studded tiara on her head. “Even for an ordinary birthday, we’d never let you suffer the slightest discomfort.” My third brother, Felix Thompson, gently helped her put on high heels, saying, “Chloe, you’re our treasure.” She swayed her black card on stage, smiling as she said, “Brothers, Kayla did lose her legs for you. You should go be with her…” Noah sneered, “She doesn’t deserve it. Now that she’s crippled, she’s even less comparable to you. She deserves what she got…” ***** I limped back to the apartment, collapsing onto the trash-filled floor. My leg wound burst open, blood flowing freely. I tore away the pants stuck to my wound. These cheap pants were my first new clothes in twenty Christmases. Despite the doctor’s warning that a secondary infection could be fatal, I stubbornly wore them anyway. Because my brothers had stayed up all night modifying them for me. After my parents died in a car accident, they left only massive debt. We couldn’t even afford down jackets. My brothers sold their blood multiple times just to buy this piece of insulating fabric. I stopped asking for gifts, spending every Christmas and birthday night wrapped in a blanket, singing happy birthday to myself. Since childhood, I’d rummage through garbage bins collecting cans for money, occasionally finding discarded restaurant leftovers to stave off hunger. When injured, I’d use spaghetti powder to stop the bleeding, never daring to call an ambulance for fear of troubling my brothers. My only winter coat was made from an old blanket I found at the dump. It kept me warm through twenty winters. Classmates mocked my old clothes, but I never felt ashamed. Because my brothers said, “We earn money with our own hands; even in poverty, we maintain our dignity.” Only now did I understand that everything they said was a lie. My brothers had money—they just gave everything to Chloe. My rags couldn’t compare to even the lace trim on her dress. My blood spread across the floor. I couldn’t understand why, no matter how hard I tried, I could never earn their love. “Kayla, we’re back, and we brought you cake.” Noah’s gentle voice sounded outside the door, completely different from how he’d spoken at the banquet, as if he were two different people. I hurriedly covered the bloodstains with waste paper. Seeing their deliberately worn designer shirts, I almost thought what I’d witnessed earlier was just a hallucination. “Kayla, these are cake scraps we got from the hotel. Try some.” Noah pushed a box of cake crumbs toward me. Before, I would have happily hugged them, crying with gratitude. But this time, I only felt exhausted. They had just hired a symphony orchestra worth over a hundred million dollars for Chloe. While I lay awake at night trying to save money, Chloe was probably sleeping soundly on her king-sized mattress. “This handwritten card is only for our most beloved sister. Look at it whenever you miss us.” Walter suddenly pulled out a dirty card. They gave her a black card, yet gave me waste paper. This greeting card was probably made from packaging paper Chloe didn’t want. I was like a joke, moved by their charity, not realizing I’d been the clown all along.

Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Felix anxiously pulled me into his arms while Walter came forward to feel my forehead, saying, “Kayla, do you have a fever? Why aren’t you speaking?” “Why are you so pale? Is your leg hurting?” So they knew about my pain. “Kayla, I’m sorry. It should have been us who got injured instead.” “I’m sorry, if only I could suffer in your place…” “Kayla, we’re so sorry!” They sobbed with their heads bowed, even slapping themselves several times until their faces were covered in bloody marks. I couldn’t understand why they claimed to care about me, yet became completely different people when they turned away. Once, I was beaten for stealing a hamburger because I was too hungry, and they threw themselves over me, begging to protect me. They were beaten until they coughed blood rather than abandon me, and never spoke a harsh word to me after we got home. But these same brothers who supposedly loved me had lied to me for half my life, watching me struggle with every step. Meanwhile, they kept Chloe safe in their arms, living happily as a little princess. My leg was hurting more and more. My brothers anxiously asked what was wrong. I forced a smile and said, “It’s nothing. I just had a dream. In my dream, there was a girl celebrating her birthday, and her brothers invited many musicians to play for her. She had such a huge cake and wore a dress I’ve never seen before. Her brothers casually gave her three black cards. “But no one stayed with me for Christmas. I could only lie alone among the pile of junk in the apartment.” They exchanged nervous glances, looking guilty. Then they started acting. Noah said tearfully, “Kayla, we’re sorry. We had to work overtime during the holidays to earn extra money for your leg treatment, so we had to leave you alone in the apartment after your surgery on Christmas.” Walter stroked my head and said helplessly, “Kayla, though we’re poor, we’ve tried our best to give you everything. This was just a dream.” “The cream on the cake is melting, hurry and eat it.” Felix held the cake to my mouth. The cream was too sweet; I only took one bite before putting it down. “Kayla, why did you stop eating? You just had surgery and lost a lot of blood. You need to replenish your sugar.” I found their words ridiculous. Chloe had an entire symphony orchestra, while I didn’t even have a medical team. Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and said, “Noah, Walter, Felix, I want to go to the hospital for treatment.” This was my second request after buying bandages. Since my amputation surgery, my leg had been bleeding and even oozing pus, but I endured the pain without saying anything, afraid of worrying them. Not only that, I had collected many recyclables just to earn enough money for one hospital visit. “Kayla, why are you suddenly thinking about going to the hospital? We haven’t even raised enough money for your previous amputation surgery.” My brothers stared at me with difficulty, their eyes filled with hidden blame. My whole body trembled. Chloe’s hair crown alone was worth tens of thousands of dollars, while I was just trying to get a thousand-dollar wound dressing treatment, fighting with all my might to save myself. Noah exchanged glances with the other two and coaxed me, “Kayla, we’ll take you to buy bandages tonight, okay?” “Yeah, bandages are safer for stopping blood than painful hospital treatments. We’ll carry you there and buy you a box of painkillers too. Then it won’t hurt anymore.” Felix patted my back to comfort me. I clenched my fists and nodded. After all, I didn’t want to be in pain. Even if I died, the medicine could ease my suffering. Just as my brothers relaxed, their phones rang simultaneously with the same ringtone: “Chloe’s brother, darling Chloe’s brother.” They frantically pulled out their phones, hung up at the same time, and then looked at each other. “Kayla, the construction site suddenly called us to work overtime to move the cement.” “Yeah, we all got the call, so it must be urgent.” “Kayla, just hang in there tonight. Don’t go out alone, it’s dangerous.” They left without even waiting for my response. Looking at my incomplete legs, I murmured, “Really? Brothers…” With hope in my heart, I painfully dragged myself forward using just my hands.

The familiar evening gown flashed through the crack of the dilapidated apartment door. Chloe rushed into my brothers’ arms. Noah skillfully lifted her up and spun her around, while Walter and Felix smiled happily at the sound of her laughter. Noah carefully set her down and pretended to be serious: “What are you doing here? This is the slums. What if you catch something? Didn’t we tell you to stay at the Four Seasons? What if Kayla finds out…” Unfortunately, I had witnessed this scene firsthand, and I’d been living in what he called “the slums” for twenty Christmases. “But I missed you all. I want to spend Christmas with you,” Chloe said sweetly. “Brothers, will you take me to see a movie tonight? The last time you took me was three whole days ago.” My brothers looked uncomfortable, frowning as they glanced back at the apartment. Tears welling in her eyes, Chloe said, “Noah, am I not your only sister anymore?” She turned to Walter with a pitiful look. “Walter, didn’t you promise you’d never let me suffer?” As Felix stood there helplessly, she said dejectedly, “Felix, am I not your precious baby anymore?” “Chloe, you’re our only sister. No matter what happens, you’ll always be our treasure!” Walter quickly interrupted her. “Is Kayla making you stay with her? She sacrificed so much to save you all, so you should probably go be with her instead,” Chloe said tearfully. “No! It’s not what you think. If you want to watch a movie, we’ll definitely set up a home theater for you. Go back to the hotel and rest. We’ll come get you once everything’s ready.” Chloe smiled. “I knew it. You only love me.” Their happy figures grew more distant. My heart ached. “Why are you still here, cripple? You haven’t paid this month’s rent yet. Get out!” The door was kicked open. I looked up in terror as several hands with skull tattoos grabbed me and started dragging me out. “No, please! Just wait a little longer. I’ll have the money soon!” I struggled to crawl to the landlord’s feet, clutching at her pant leg, begging. She held the men back for a moment and scolded, “Are you stalling for time? Pay half the rent now, or get out of here!” I frantically pulled out my phone to call my brothers, my voice trembling: “I’m not lying. I have three brothers. They must have forgotten. Just wait…” “I’ll believe you one last time!” But Noah wouldn’t answer my call. The voicemail message cruelly announced my fate. I froze for a moment, then called Walter. When even my final call to Felix was rejected, my phone was stomped on the ground. The landlord said, “I knew you were faking! If you really had three brothers, they wouldn’t leave a cripple like you all alone. I felt sorry for you and let you delay the rent month after month, but you haven’t paid a penny since you were sent back here. I’ve been more than kind to you!” I crawled over and clutched the shattered phone to my chest. I don’t know when I was dumped on the street, or why no one answered my calls. With trembling hands, I managed to find the photo in my cracked phone. “Kayla is amazing, already earning money to buy her own phone. You’re truly our strongest sister!” This was the only group photo I had with my brothers. That’s why I treasured this phone so much, never replacing it even in this era of smartphones. But they had countless photos with Chloe… They were all liars! The already cracked screen shattered completely as I swung my hand, just like the broken bond between my brothers and me. I cared deeply for them, giving up Ivy League schools to reduce the family’s burden, working three jobs a day to earn money, even sacrificing my opportunity to develop in New York, and losing both my legs to save them. Yet my love for them was worthless. They felt no guilt raising another girl behind my back. I crawled to an empty alley, where the cold wind numbed even the pain in my legs. In that moment before passing out, I suddenly became clear-headed, with a powerful will to survive bursting forth. I knew that staying alive was the best revenge against them. I returned to collecting recyclables, eating just one burger a day, dragging myself through every corner of the city day and night. My wounds oozed blood and pus, which I could only wrap with rags. Watching the coins in my hand grow closer to the amount needed for treatment, I finally smiled again after so long. That day, my fellow trash collector friend invited me to a job, saying a new AMC theater was opening and hiring people to clean. We could also collect empty bottles after the movies ended. I agreed without hesitation. Because the journey was so far, I began crawling toward my destination before dawn. Upon reaching the theater, just as I was about to go in and ask, I saw those four familiar figures standing close together. Chloe said, “Why don’t we bring Kayla too? She’s probably never seen an IMAX movie before.” “She didn’t even go to college, don’t waste a movie ticket on her!” “Chloe, a cripple doesn’t deserve to be in front of your spaghetti.” “Janitor, hurry up and clean the floor!” Before the exciting movie began, I tied the cloth around my legs tighter and slowly crawled over, saying, “Excuse me, I’m the janitor here to clean.”

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After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a kidney failure diagnosis report. In my previous life, my nephew Jason Hill was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a kidney transplant to survive. I immediately got tested for compatibility and donated my right kidney to him. After the surgery, my health deteriorated rapidly. My twenty-year-old body became as weak as an eighty-year-old’s, unable to do housework or hold a job. But my brother Kyle Hill and his wife Jennifer Clark accused me of faking illness to avoid responsibilities. Kyle said, “You’re just missing one kidney. Do you expect us to support you for the rest of your life?” Jennifer threw a pig kidney she bought from the supermarket in my face, saying, “I’m giving your kidney back to you. Now we’re even, right?” Due to unilateral kidney failure, I died before turning thirty in a cheap apartment. When I woke up again, I had returned to the day before Jason’s diagnosis. “I don’t want water, I want soda!” Jason screamed, knocking over the glass. “We’re out of soda in the fridge. I’ll buy some for you later,” my mother Laura Baker said with a smile, despite being splashed with water. Seeing this, I jumped up from the couch. “I’ll go buy it! I’ll get the biggest bottle of soda for Jason right now!” I said as I hurried toward the door. Only after closing the apartment door did I finally relax. I trembled as I felt my side. The surgical scar was gone. Thank God, both my kidneys were still there. In my previous life, Jason needed weekly dialysis to stay alive, with a kidney transplant being his only hope for a cure. Upon hearing this news, I immediately went to the hospital for compatibility testing. When Kyle and Jennifer learned that my kidney was a match for Jason, they got down on their knees begging me to donate. They promised to take care of me for the rest of my life and even said Jason would look after me in my old age. Laura even threatened me: “If you don’t agree, I’ll kill myself and ruin your reputation!” I donated one of my kidneys to Jason, saving his life. After the transplant surgery, I completely lost my ability to work, lost my job, and would get dizzy just climbing stairs. Having only one kidney left me infertile, turning me into a complete invalid. Kyle and Jennifer quickly broke their promises, stopped paying for my living expenses, and kicked me out of their home. Kyle coldly said, “Missing a kidney won’t kill you. Don’t be so greedy.” Jennifer threw a pig kidney at me, saying, “We’re giving your kidney back now.” Even Laura told me, “Jason is your nephew. Saving him was your responsibility.” The night I died alone in my apartment, they regretfully said, “We should have made her donate both kidneys to Jason.” This time, I’ve decided not to save Jason.

I stood in the supermarket and bought five cases of soda for Jason. Since childhood, Jason has always loved drinking soda, and now he refuses to drink even a drop of water. Kyle had tried to correct this habit before, but Jason would rather be dehydrated than drink water. Laura felt sorry for him and bought several cases of soda to keep at home. This habit of Jason’s has continued for over ten Christmases; it’s no wonder he would develop kidney failure. I brought the soda home, and Jason immediately started drinking it happily. During dinner, I casually mentioned that I was planning to get a full physical examination. Jennifer mocked me, saying, “You must be rich. I haven’t even gathered enough money for Jason’s tutoring fees yet.” I pretended not to understand her comment. “Health is much more important than academics. I think our whole family should get checked.” My body is perfectly healthy; I was just preparing for my plan. Jason’s condition could be discovered at any time. As long as I lived in this house, I might face the same situation as last time. So I decided I needed to escape far away, where they could never find me. I forged a kidney failure diagnosis report and sent it to the family group chat. I returned home with the fake report, pretending to be devastated. The three of them were whispering about something in the living room. When they saw me come in, Laura walked over with a grave expression. For a moment, I almost believed she genuinely cared about me. But her next words immediately shattered my illusion. Laura said, “I asked the doctor. Your condition requires lifelong dialysis, which costs a fortune. You’ll suffer even if you live, so why not give up treatment? Jason isn’t grown up yet. He’ll need money for college and marriage in the future. We really can’t help you.” Jennifer walked over with a smirk and said, “It’s because you insisted on getting a physical that you discovered your terminal illness. Jason is still young. You’d better move out soon before your bad luck affects him.” Listening to them shirk responsibility, I wiped my tears and pleaded, “The doctor said my condition could be cured with a kidney transplant, and relatives have the highest success rate for matching. Could you all get tested? Jason could try too.” As soon as I finished speaking, I was slapped across the face. “You monster! Jason is so young, and you want him to donate a kidney?!” Jennifer glared at me fiercely, as if she wanted to kill me. Holding my cheek, I sobbed, “He can live with just one kidney. If he donates his kidney to me, I’ll treat him like my own son. I’ll leave all my inheritance to him.” Jennifer said, “Impossible! You’re about to die anyway. After you die, your inheritance will naturally go to Jason!” I turned to Kyle and said, “Kyle, please save me. Just do a matching test; it might not even be successful.” Laura immediately stood in front of Kyle, saying defensively, “Kyle is in such good health; donating a kidney would affect his wellbeing.” The three of them stood together, showing not a shred of sympathy or compassion toward me. I cried out, “Mom, I’m your child too! Can you really bear to watch me die?” Laura said, “This is God’s arrangement. I gave birth to you; you should be grateful you’ve lived this long.” I stood up, looking at them coldly, and said, “You’re so heartless. God will punish you!” With that, I flipped the dining table and swung a chair, smashing the furniture to pieces, not acting like a sick person at all. They watched me destroy things, only daring to curse at me but not stepping forward to stop me. After demolishing everything, I finally calmed down and stormed out without looking back.

I ran desperately, terrified they would catch up to me. Laura texted me: [You bastard. Our mother-daughter relationship is over.] I took a screenshot of this message and posted it directly on social media. My relatives who saw it didn’t understand what had happened. Soon Laura also posted an update: [From today on, Brittany and I are no longer mother and daughter.] My family and friends thought it was just an ordinary family dispute and tried to persuade me: [Calm down. Blood ties can’t be severed.] I immediately replied: [Stop trying to convince me. My mother doesn’t love me at all and wants to see me die from illness.] [I even doubt if I’m her biological daughter. How could there be such a heartless mother in this world?] Then I shared the forged kidney failure diagnosis report in the group chat. My relatives immediately criticized Laura: [Laura, Brittany is your own daughter. She’s sick now, you can’t abandon her.] [She’s so cold-blooded, giving up her daughter for money.] [If my daughter were sick, I’d do everything in my power to cure her.] Laura was shaking with anger and replied: [She doesn’t want money, she wants a kidney!] [She actually wants Jason to donate a kidney to her. She’s the truly vicious one!] She pushed all the blame onto me. Without my rebirth experience, I might have actually felt guilty. But now, I only care about myself. These relatives probably agreed with Laura, as they all quickly fell silent. Usually, they had good relationships with me, but now no one was helping me. [Brittany, you can manage your condition with dialysis. Why do you insist on a kidney? Kyle can’t lose a kidney.] [That’s right. A kidney isn’t something money can buy. You’re going too far.] I replied with a cold laugh: [Mary, why don’t you give me your kidney? People can live with one kidney.] No one dared to speak up after that. After all, kidneys aren’t regenerative organs, and no one wanted to take the risk. Seeing me criticized by everyone, Kyle pretended to defend me, saying: [I can’t give you my kidney, but I’ll help you if you’re in trouble.] I didn’t believe a word he said. I ignored him and continued pressing: [We’re all family, is there really no one willing to save me? Are you all so heartless?] No one replied. They clearly didn’t want to help me. Now I felt relieved. Jason’s illness would soon manifest. With no relatives willing to help, Kyle would definitely become desperate. I rented an apartment in the suburbs and got a new job. New York is so big, they’d never find me again. After settling in, I still made one trip back home. After graduation, Laura had always controlled my salary. Every time I wanted to move out, she stopped me. She always gave my money to Kyle and Jennifer. Money that belonged to me—I had to get it back. The apartment I had trashed last time had been renovated. When they saw me appear, Laura, Kyle, and Jennifer’s faces showed obvious displeasure. I threw the documents in front of their spaghetti and said, “I don’t want the kidney anymore, but you need to pay back all the money you spent on me over the years.” The documents were printed bank statements, clearly recording every penny Laura had taken. They couldn’t deny it. Jennifer screamed when she saw the numbers: “We don’t have that much money!” I said, “This is all money you spent. Pay it back now!” I sat on the floor, making it clear I wouldn’t leave without my money. Laura waved her hands, trying to drive me away. “I gave birth to you and raised you. I have the right to spend your money. Get out!” I smiled coldly as I pulled out a small knife and said, “It’s fine if you don’t pay me back. I don’t have long to live anyway, so I might do something impulsive. Jennifer, Jason is in 5th grade, Class B at the elementary school, right?” Everyone froze, afraid I might really go crazy. “Fine! I’ll give you the money. Now get out!” Laura finally gave in. I said, “Of course.” After receiving the payment notification, I stood up. Before leaving, I looked around the apartment my father had left behind and said, “Legally, I should own part of this place too.” Kyle broke down screaming, “Get out! This apartment is mine!” I didn’t say anything more, just left them with a chilling smile. After that night, they couldn’t sleep, fearing I might come back demanding more money. Eventually, they decided to sell the apartment and move, even planning to transfer Jason to another school. After all, I was now a desperate terminal patient, and they worried I might do something to harm them. On their moving day, Jason threw a tantrum because he didn’t want to leave his familiar school. An irritated Kyle slapped Jason, but unexpectedly, Jason immediately passed out. Laura held Jason, crying out for help. Kyle said, “Stop pretending. I’ve hit you before and you were fine.” But I knew Jason’s kidney failure had flared up.

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After getting engaged to my boyfriend Daniel West, we went to his family home for Christmas. Since I couldn’t understand the dialect from his region, we agreed beforehand to communicate in English when visiting his hometown. But as soon as we arrived, his mother Abby West cursed at me in dialect, “You ugly monster. You’re just a cheap whore who seduces men to spend money on you.” I turned to ask Daniel what his mother said, and he patted my head and replied, “She says you’re beautiful and virtuous.” I smiled coldly. He didn’t know that my college thesis was on researching regional dialects. I removed Daniel’s hand from my head. “Is that so? Then please tell your mother I appreciate her compliments.” Daniel smiled brightly and responded to his mother in dialect, “Mom, once I get her pregnant, I’ll make her stay here and serve you for the rest of her life.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but shudder. I never imagined that for the past two Christmases, Daniel’s gentleness and attentiveness had all been an act! Realizing this, my heart felt cold and painful. My first instinct was to leave immediately. But it was already dark, and this place was ten miles from town. Even if I reached town, there would be no transportation available. I stared at the worn wooden doorframe, which looked like a beast’s bloody jaws wide open—once swallowed, not even my bones would remain. “Joy Mooney? Joy?” Seeing no response from me, Daniel pushed me. Only then did I snap back to reality. “Why are you standing there? Come in. My mom specially lit the fire, worried you might get cold.” While I hesitated, Daniel pulled me inside. I handed the gifts I’d bought with my own salary to Abby—a selection of fruits. However, Abby grabbed them and started complaining while unwrapping the package with her back to me. “Didn’t you say this slut comes from money? Why is she just giving me this stuff? Why didn’t she buy me an expensive bracelet?” Not only did Daniel fail to defend me after hearing this, but he also agreed with Abby, saying, “She’s such a cheapskate. You expect her to buy you jewelry? She might even ask you for something in return!” Hearing this, I felt a pang of heartache. The brand-new designer clothes Daniel was wearing right now were personally bought by me, yet he called me stingy. Staring at Daniel’s disgusting face, I grew increasingly angry. Finally, I couldn’t help but confront him, “Daniel! Didn’t we agree to speak English when we came back? You and your mom keep speaking dialect—are you deliberately trying to keep me from understanding?” Exposed, Daniel’s face immediately darkened. “My mom never went to school, so she only speaks dialect. Do you expect her to speak English? You’re just making things difficult for her!” I thought he was going to get angry, but suddenly he continued with a smirk, “Come on, don’t be upset. I’ll translate everything my mom and I say. Just now, my mom was saying that after Christmas, she definitely wants to meet your parents. Having such a wonderful girl like you marry into our family is our good fortune.” Hearing Daniel’s completely twisted explanation, I could only suppress my rage. But at the same time, I became more aware of how terrifying this man I’d loved for two Christmases truly was. For these past two Christmases, except for his family, my family and friends all thought he was perfect. Who would have thought that today, because of a dialect, he’d finally shown his true colors. While I was frightened, I also felt fortunate. If I had waited until after marriage to regret, it would have been too late. Now I still had a chance to correct this mistake.

At the dinner table, a dark pot contained food that was difficult to describe. “Joy, my mom didn’t know what you like to eat, so she specially prepared a whole table of dishes. I don’t even get this treatment at home!” I looked at the food in front of me, with no appetite. I just wanted to leave this place as soon as dawn broke. If this place had cell reception, I would definitely have called my parents to pick me up tonight. Perhaps sensing my reluctance to eat these dishes, Abby directly cursed in dialect, “She won’t even look at the food I specially made for her! Who does she think she is?” Daniel’s face immediately darkened. “Joy Mooney! My mom worked hard to prepare all these dishes. You should at least respect her and try some of the food, right?” I looked at the dish Abby mentioned and saw that the pig hair hadn’t even been properly removed. Fighting back my nausea, I finally ate some salad and then handed the pork chop to Abby. “Your mom worked hard cooking, so she needs to eat this pork chop.” Daniel suddenly slammed his fork on the ground. “Joy, aren’t you going too far? “What do you mean ‘your mom’? Aren’t we family? Have you forgotten we’re engaged?” Daniel couldn’t even bother to maintain his facade anymore. Although I was somewhat mentally prepared for his true intentions, his sudden outburst still frightened me. Nervously, I quickly corrected myself, “Abby.” Only then did his expression soften somewhat. “That’s better.” After dinner, to gain their trust, I voluntarily started washing the dishes. You should know that in the past, this was always Daniel’s job. Now he pulled Abby away. “Mom, don’t wash up. For the past two years, I’ve been this bitch’s servant. I did housework every day, so now it’s time she gets a taste of hardship.” Abby snorted coldly, “Look at how she washes the dishes. Even a three-year-old would do a better job.” If it weren’t for avoiding their suspicion, I would never wash these dishes. Listening to their conversation, I wanted nothing more than to throw the plates at them. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Daniel and Abby exchanged glances, then Daniel immediately went to answer it. When the door opened, a man in his forties or fifties stood there. As soon as he entered, he grinned at me with his yellow teeth. Then his gaze roamed freely over my body. “Can this woman understand the local dialect?” Daniel laughed, “John Bell, don’t worry. She couldn’t possibly understand. When I sell her later, she won’t even know if I’m counting the money correctly.” The man called John Bell gave a lewd smile and pulled out three stacks of bills from his bag, stuffing them into Daniel’s hand. I was confused about why he suddenly gave Daniel money, but his next words plunged me into an abyss. “As we agreed. Here’s thirty thousand dollars.” Daniel counted the money and replied, “Then this bitch is yours to use for a year. Once she gives you a child, you return her to me.” In that instant, my brain stopped functioning, and the plate in my hand fell to the ground, shattering.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel looked at me suspiciously. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. Even though fear was about to consume me completely, I knew I had to stay calm. I forced an awkward smile. “The water’s too cold. My hands are getting numb…” Abby stared at the broken plate and cursed from the side, “What a wasteful money pit.” Daniel gave me a massive eye roll. “I think you’re just too pampered. Hurry up and finish washing the dishes.” “This is John Bell from the end of the village. We haven’t seen each other in ages. Make us something to eat. We want to drink.” He was actually asking me to cook for this human trafficker. I felt both frustrated and furious inside, but I didn’t dare show it on my face. I could only force another smile and say, “Okay.” The two men sat down at the small table nearby. John asked, “Is she really a virgin?” Daniel gave a sleazy smile. “If I’m lying to you, I’ll be your son.” “John, I haven’t even touched this woman. You’re only paying me thirty thousand dollars! You’re getting an absolute steal!” Every word Daniel spat out felt like a nail driving deep into my heart. I was in so much pain I could barely breathe. For two Christmases, we indeed hadn’t had sex. Daniel always said that sort of thing should wait until after marriage. I always thought he was a responsible, respectful man, but I never imagined he wasn’t sleeping with me so he could sell me for a better price. Seeing Daniel’s impatient glances, I quickly finished washing the dishes and made them something to eat. When the hot food was served, Daniel finally showed me a hint of a smile. “Baby, thank you for your hard work.” John’s piercing gaze continued to examine me. My whole body was covered in goosebumps. And his next sentence completely shattered my last hope. “So we have a deal. I’ll come pick her up tomorrow night, and then I’ll have sex with her.” Daniel nodded, and as I was about to leave, he suddenly called me back. “Baby, come join John for a drink.” Hearing this, John’s smile stretched almost to his ears, revealing all his yellow teeth. I turned around and, suppressing my fear, said coldly, “Don’t you know I can’t drink?” Seeing my reluctance, John’s face immediately fell. “Daniel, this woman doesn’t seem very obedient?” Hearing this, Daniel seemed to feel like he’d lost face. Fueled by alcohol, he jumped up, grabbed my hair, and said, “Joy! Do you look down on me and John? You just look down on us country folk!” He brought the cheap liquor close to my face. “You must finish this drink.” Before he finished speaking, he grabbed my throat and poured the entire glass down. I started coughing violently. The cheap alcohol burned through my throat like fire. I couldn’t hold back anymore, and tears of frustration burst forth. Suddenly, my stomach cramped, and a wave of nausea hit me. I quickly covered my mouth, about to throw up. Daniel looked disgusted. “Go outside to puke!” I covered my mouth and rushed out of the house. The filth immediately poured out. I held my stomach and vomited for nearly a minute before stopping. I wiped my tears with my sleeve. The cold wind blew past, but I couldn’t feel any chill. Nothing could be colder than my heart right now. I looked up and saw scattered lights in the distance. Now I had only one thought in my mind: run! But just as I took a step, the door opened. Daniel came out with a glass of water, swaying unsteadily. He handed me the water and then hugged me from behind. “I’m sorry, Joy. I was drunk, so I was too rough with you.” This demon in human skin was so close to me that my body trembled uncontrollably. “It’s okay… I understand… I need to use the bathroom.” Daniel let go of me and pointed to a wooden shed not far away. “The bathroom’s over there. Want me to go with you?” I shook my head repeatedly and pretended to be considerate. “John is still inside, so you should go back and drink with him.” Daniel nodded and turned to walk back inside. I took a deep breath. If I had actually tried to escape just now, he might have discovered the truth. I really couldn’t wait any longer. As soon as he went inside, I would run! Suddenly my heart tightened because Daniel, who was supposed to be leaving, grabbed my hand. His voice was as terrifying as a ghost’s: “Can you understand what we’re saying?” I instinctively wanted to deny it. Just as I was about to answer, I quickly bit down hard on my tongue. Because Daniel had asked me that question in their dialect! With no time to adjust my emotions, I could only turn my head away, ignoring his question. “Daniel, do you have any paper?” Daniel’s face stiffened as he stared at me intently, seemingly trying to find a flaw in my act. “By the way, what did that phrase you just said mean? Is that also a dialect from your area? When we get back, you should teach me properly, otherwise I won’t be able to communicate with your mom.” At the mention of “getting back,” a hint of mockery flashed in Daniel’s eyes. “Just use those leaves on the ground.” After saying this, he staggered back toward the house. Watching his retreating figure, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but the boulder in my heart remained heavy. I suspected his drunken state was just an act put on for my benefit. After that close call, my urge to urinate was completely gone, but I still pretended to use the bathroom. Although every fiber of my body wanted to escape, my reason told me that now wasn’t the best time. To maximize my chances of rescue, I had to overcome my inner fear and continue playing this dangerous game with the demon inside the house. I stood at the doorway, took a deep breath, and forced myself to walk in. Except for Daniel and John, everyone had gone to rest. Seeing me enter, they exchanged smiles, as if they had reached some agreement. Both stood up and said goodbye to each other. As John passed by me, he actually had the nerve to touch me. I endured the disgust and anger, watching John leave. After John left, I closed the door myself, then helped Daniel back to the bedroom. He fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed. I pretended to call him to wash up, but he gave no response. I didn’t dare lower my guard, so I just quickly washed my face and pretended to lie down beside him. Soon, Daniel’s snores filled the room, each one striking my heart. Unsure if he was truly asleep, I could only count the passing minutes in terror and helplessness. My heart felt like it was being fried in hot oil. I knew I couldn’t delay any longer. I tiptoed out of bed. I had deliberately left the bedroom door open, but when I reached the front door, I faced a dilemma. This old wooden door would creak loudly when opened. I could only pull it upward with force to reduce the friction of the door panel. Finally, I managed to open the door with minimal noise. A cold wind blew in, but to me it felt incredibly warm. Just as I was about to get up and flee, a dark shadow covered me from behind, like a dagger piercing through me. I turned back in terror. It was Abby! With her disheveled hair, she looked even more sinister in the moonlight. She rolled her eyes back, resembling a man-eating demon. At that moment, I felt completely doomed.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397913”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Family #Cheating #Bully #Intelligent