Category: English

In my previous life, my dad disappeared mysteriously after going mountain climbing, but we found a suicide note he’d left in a drawer beforehand. He claimed he was bankrupt, depressed, and had let Mom and me down, so he ended his life on the mountain. The police found Dad’s clothes and bloodstains at the foot of a cliff. Mom blamed herself, thinking she’d driven Dad to his death, and fell into a deep depression. It wasn’t until I had to take a part-time job as a food delivery driver to pay off Dad’s debts that I discovered the owner of a luxurious mansion had the same ordering habits as my deceased father. I started investigating and found that the mansion was occupied by my supposedly dead father and his soulmate. My father noticed my investigation, and to keep the truth hidden, he brutally murdered Mom and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Dad said he was going mountain climbing. I smirked. Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll help you on your way. In the darkness, the sound of running water in the bathroom was unusually clear. The man in the shower was humming a tune, his mood far too cheerful for someone about to end his life. I tiptoed over to his freshly packed bag and immediately spotted the plastic bag containing the bloodstained clothes. This was it. Today was the day. In my previous life, my father, Richard Grant, had deliberately sent Mom and me away, left a suicide note, and faked his death by jumping off a cliff. After he went missing, the police found the bloodstained clothes at the foot of the mountain and concluded he “couldn’t have survived.” When Grandma heard this “terrible news,” she slapped Mom ten times with her wrinkled hands. “You two women drove my son to his death!” she screeched. “If it weren’t for you, you vain woman, my son wouldn’t have needed to start a company. He went bankrupt and couldn’t even tell you, so he had to go and die in secret…” The suicide note was full of Dad’s heartache and love for us, with only a brief mention of the astronomical debts he owed at the end. When Mom learned the truth, she was devastated. For the rest of her life, she lived in a cycle of debt repayment and self-blame. As for my grandmother, who was supposed to be “outliving her own child,” she had already secretly claimed a huge insurance payout and was traveling the world. A few years later, I accidentally discovered the truth about Dad’s fake death. It turned out that the luxurious mansion I often delivered food to was home to my father, who should have been long dead! He and his soulmate, Rose Simmons, already had a child together and were living an idyllic life in their 10,000-square-foot home. After staking out the place a few times, I even saw my grandmother, who would often come to our house crying poverty and begging for money! Unfortunately, they discovered me during my quest for the truth. At Rose’s urging, my biological father, Richard Grant, stabbed me twenty-one times. “I brought you into this world, so it’s only fitting that I send you out,” he said. As I lay bleeding and in agony, I was reborn, back to the day before my dad’s departure.

Quickly piecing together my memories from my past life, I was determined not to let my dad succeed this time. After his shower, thinking no one was home, Dad made a phone call without any attempt to hide his words. “Don’t worry, Rose. By dawn, we’ll be together forever.” “The money’s being processed. We just need to wait three more days for it all to be laundered and transferred to our account.” “I know Wendy’s personality best. Even her daughter knows she’s a love-struck fool. Once I get my mom to put on a crying act, she’ll definitely shoulder all the debts herself…” As a husband intent on squeezing every last penny from his wife, Richard Grant knew my mom inside out. For over a decade, he’d been the pinnacle of a loving husband and father on social media! Initially, everyone who doubted him for marrying above his social status gradually changed their minds. In my previous life, after the suicide note was discovered, many people even consoled Mom. They said Dad wasn’t a bad person at heart, just unlucky. Who could have imagined he would fake his own death to commit insurance fraud with a fortune in tow? As dawn broke, I heard Dad’s footsteps in the living room. It seemed he was eager to leave. After the door slammed shut, I emerged from my hiding place in the storage room and headed straight for the study. In the open drawer lay the freshly written suicide note, the ink still glistening. The contents were etched in my memory. “My beloved Wendy, this is the last love letter I’ll ever write to you. It’s my fault that I couldn’t give you the life you deserved, even after trying my hardest. Meeting you used up all my luck in this world.” “The company’s situation is dire, and I can no longer sustain it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. The only way out now is death.” “Please don’t grieve after I’m gone. All I ask is that you take care of my mother. We’ve been alone for so long, and it hasn’t been easy. Even as a spirit in another world, I’ll watch over you and our daughter. Your departed husband, Richard.” The back of the note was covered in bills. Just a few of those numbers added up would be enough to crush our mother-daughter duo for the rest of our lives. In my previous life, this suicide note was “accidentally” discovered by my grandmother. At the time, despite being barely literate, she immediately recognized what was inside and read it aloud in front of everyone. Every word dripped with false sentiment, but the countless unpaid bills were a harsh reality. Mom was already dazed from Grandma’s beating at that point. Looking back now, it was full of holes. With a loud rip, I tore the absurd paper to shreds. I opened the laptop in the study and found Dad’s company email. I easily logged in using a combination of Rose’s birthday. If it’s a suicide note he wants, I can write one too. In the email, I composed a new suicide note in Dad’s voice, pouring out his heart. I detailed how he had driven the company to bankruptcy and his plans to fake his death and run away. I confessed all the methods of his scheme in crystal clear detail. At the end, I made sure to express his earth-shattering love for Rose Simmons, his secretary and lover. “My darling Rose, don’t worry. The secret overseas account will contact you soon. Even if the whole company has to go down with me, I won’t let you suffer a single day of hardship.” The true recipient of this suicide note shouldn’t be my mom. Feeling satisfied with my handiwork, I hit the send button to all 305 contacts. The outbox instantly filled with countless records. Outside, the sky had fully brightened, and I received a message from the hiker I’d asked to keep watch. The short video showed Dad taking out the bloodstained clothes from the plastic bag, meticulously staging his own death scene. Through the screen, I watched everything with a cold smirk. “Oh, Dad, why rush to die when your grand love affair hasn’t even been witnessed by the world yet?”

When the police came to the door, I deliberately sent Mom away and answered it myself. “Hello, are you Richard Grant’s family?” one officer asked. “We received a report that he’s been missing for over twenty-four hours. We’re here to gather some information.” “That’s impossible, officer. My dad is on a business trip in New York. How could he be missing?” I replied calmly. “Are you sure he went on a business trip?” the officer pressed. Facing the police inquiry, I explained with composure. “Of course. My dad told us himself the night before last. Let me call my mom; she should still have the voice message Dad sent on her phone.” “By the way, officer, who reported this?” The two policemen glanced at their body cameras and exchanged looks. “Um, the reporter’s name is Rose Simmons. She said she’s the company secretary.” Things were starting to get interesting. Just then, the elevator doors behind us opened. “Wendy Curtis, you poisonous woman! Give me back my son’s life!” my grandmother shouted before she even saw our faces. Behind her were a bunch of relatives, all trying to squeeze in with an intimidating air. Her small, frail body swung a cane, aiming for my head. “Ava, who are you talking to at the door? Why haven’t you come in yet?” Mom called out, finally drawn by the commotion. Sharp-eyed, I quickly pulled Mom down to duck, and the tall police officer swiftly caught the cane. “Hey, why are you swinging that as soon as you arrive? Who are you people?” the officer demanded. “I’m her mother-in-law. She killed my son, so I have every right to hit her!” Grandma retorted self-righteously. The police were clearly displeased with Grandma’s words. “Ma’am, we live in a society governed by law. Even if you’re her mother-in-law, you can’t just hit people.” “Besides, the report we received only mentioned a missing person. How are you so certain your son is dead?” The atmosphere in the hallway suddenly shifted. Mom, still unaware of the truth, looked completely bewildered. I briefly explained to her about Dad being reported missing, and Mom immediately lost her composure. She took out her phone, about to try calling Dad, when Grandma snatched it away. “Stop pretending! My son must have been driven to his death by you,” Grandma accused. “Mom, what are you talking about? Richard told us himself he was going on a business trip to New York. Why do you insist he’s dead?” Mom snapped back, grabbing her phone. She found Dad’s voice message and played it for everyone to hear. The brief message clearly stated his destination and purpose. “Wendy, I’m heading to New York for a business trip. You and Ava should stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days!” The relatives who had been quick to jump to conclusions now looked at Grandma suspiciously. After all, they knew what kind of person she was. “That’s definitely Richard’s voice. That boy has always spoken softly, raised by his mother to be as delicate as a little girl,” one aunt commented. “Wait, how did Third Aunt know her son was gone?” another relative asked. “Yeah, we came in such a rush. On the way here, Third Sister kept repeating only one thing—that her son was driven to death by his daughter-in-law. When we asked for more details, she would just cry.” “Could there be some misunderstanding? We shouldn’t stick our necks out just for a free meal.” So all this commotion was just for a free meal? Grandma sure was stingy. Just like in my previous life. After receiving the huge insurance payout, Grandma had kept a large portion for herself. She traveled, wined, and dined, showing off her luxurious life in the family group chat, making everyone envious. Later, if it weren’t for her refusing to lend money to her own nephew for medical treatment, I wouldn’t have learned from my cousin about Grandma’s lavish lifestyle while she cried poverty. Too bad, I thought. She probably won’t even get to treat them to that meal now.

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My wife, Amelia Johnson, and I had been childless by choice for seven years. She decided to be a surrogate for her best friend, Michael Harris. I watched her sweetly smile as she talked on the phone. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Then she texted me: [Honey, surrogacy isn’t cheating. He’s gay! What are you worried about?] When I suggested terminating the pregnancy, she responded with divorce papers. Amelia told me not to have regrets, and her words cut deep. I crumpled up my kidney cancer diagnosis in my hand. Who would be the one with regrets now? After seven blissful years of marriage with Amelia, I was blindsided on our anniversary with the news that she’d agreed to be a surrogate for her male best friend. I had always desperately wanted a child of my own. Yet I’d gotten a vasectomy out of concern for her health. And now here she was, willingly enduring IVF treatments to have a baby for her best friend? What did that make me? “I know you don’t like kids. Once the baby’s born, I’ll hand it straight over to him. He’s gay and can’t have kids of his own. Isn’t that tragic enough?” Amelia stated with absolute conviction. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. As an orphan, I’d always dreamed of having my own family. How could she think I didn’t want children? Sure, I was married, but Amelia was having someone’s baby. How did that give me the family I longed for? Just then, a nurse interrupted our conversation. “Mr. Charlie Jones, the results from your wife’s specially ordered medical examination are ready.” “Go get the reports from the nurse,” Amelia quickly told me, pressing her thermos into my palm. “You rushed out this morning without breakfast, so I made some chicken soup. I was worried about your stomach.” The medical staff nearby made appreciative noises. Those little gestures that once felt so sweet now just made me uncomfortable and tense. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d accidentally overheard earlier when I arrived early at the entrance. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Those words kept echoing in my mind, each repetition like a bell tolling numbly against my heart. The nurse kept chattering in my ear. “Your wife really takes such good care of you, sir. Some of these specialist appointments have a six-month waiting list. Seven years of checkups. She’s really devoted to you.” “Is that so?” I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. After collecting all the medical reports, I frowned deeply at the final page. I rushed to the obstetrics department, only to learn Amelia had already left. My phone buzzed with over a dozen messages from her, fussing about the cold weather and saying she’d asked my secretary to bring me a scarf. She wrote that I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so she’d gone ahead to handle some company business for me. She mentioned she had a big surprise planned for our seventh anniversary. The messages kept coming, one after another, each seemingly showing how much she cared. Through the rearview mirror, the cab driver grinned and teased, “Must be your wife, huh? She can’t bear to be apart from you. Your phone’s blowing up with messages.” The radio volume in the car gradually increased as the female host read cheerfully, “Today marks the seventh anniversary of Mrs. Jones, wife of the Jones Group CEO. On this special day, she wants to tell him…” The driver clicked his tongue and remarked, “Now that’s what I call hitting the jackpot. A self-made man marries a rich wife! She even changed her company name for him, and she’s totally devoted. Wonder how he pulled that off.” I could only manage a bitter smile. As I pushed open the car door and entered the company, reaching my office floor, party poppers exploded in the air. The entire floor was decorated with baby-themed ornaments. The employees joyfully congratulated me on having a son. Candles and roses created a pathway, and at the end stood Amelia, smiling at me. My phone buzzed with a notification, and I hesitantly opened the video. Her so-called “best friend” was tangled intimately with her on our marriage bed. Did she ever truly love me?

I didn’t know if someone’s love could be a facade for seven years. The videos I saw and the conversations I overheard at the hospital, combined with all these baby decorations in front of me, made my stomach churn and my face turn pale. Amelia came over and affectionately took my hand. The swelling in her hands and feet and the backache from pregnancy were noticeable now. Just standing for a moment made cold sweat break out on her forehead and nose. My assistant Alex Wills whispered that Amelia had put up all these decorations herself, saying she didn’t want anyone else touching our seventh-anniversary preparations. Amelia pulled me into the office, where her male best friend had already prepared a cup of hot water for her. “Tonight’s family dinner. Dad finally agreed to let me bring you!” That was her surprise. “Don’t be mad that I announced at work that the baby is ours. How else could we fool Dad? It is perfect! We can use the little one to get his approval finally.” As a poor guy who married a rich man’s daughter, I’d gotten nothing but cold shoulders from her family for seven years. Amelia had been caught in the middle, and thinking about that made my heart soften a bit. Michael leaned in with a grin, arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you should be thanking your friendly sperm donor here. Charlie’s shooting blanks, after all.” My supposed infertility was just a lie we made up when Amelia was afraid of having kids, and I got a vasectomy to back up the story. Before I could object, Amelia glared at him and pointed her finger in his face, demanding he apologize to me. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me? I’m a germaphobe! Anyone but my husband makes my skin crawl!” Michael quickly threw up his hands in surrender. This act had been performed hundreds, thousands of times in front of me over the past seven years. I truly believed they were just best friends, never seeing anything wrong with it. Now, it just makes my eyes ache to think about it. I could finally hear the challenge hidden beneath his playful tone. Amelia excitedly told me, “I really took one for the team this time! You wanted that land in the south district, right? Well, he said he’d give it to us directly. And about that bidding process, you’ve been stressing over. I’ll sweet-talk him tonight. With this baby, my dad will definitely help you out.” Over these two weeks, she’d traveled across half of the country for me, compiling detailed market research, leaving nothing out. Michael made a snide comment about her taking care of herself, “Some people, hmph, they’re so eager to help their husband that they ignore their morning sickness. Wonder who was throwing up bile the other day?” I kept my eyes down, unsure how to react. “Get rid of it,” I suddenly said. “The infertility certificate was fake. On our wedding day, you cried and told me your mother died on the operating table during childbirth. So I got a vasectomy and made up that lie. Your body isn’t suited for pregnancy. Please terminate it.” Amelia clutched her stomach, shaking her head repeatedly. I started to pull out the medical report from my pocket. But then I heard her say sadly, “Michael has kidney cancer. It is his only chance to have a child. Honey, can’t we just help him out?”

I felt pretty helpless about the whole thing. Her love for me had seemed so passionate and intense, yet she was afraid of getting pregnant with me while wanting to give Michael an heir. She claimed to be a germaphobe, wincing whenever others touched her. Yet there she was, intimately entangled with her “best friend” in our marital bed. Michael saw me covering my face and sneered, “You better not claim you have cancer, too. She checked your electronic medical records right away. They were clean.” I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I did have a cancer report in my hand, but it wasn’t mine. Suddenly, the lights went dark, and a group of people emerged singing with a cake. Turns out this was another birthday surprise. “By the way, today is also Mr. Harris’ birthday. Perfect timing to celebrate together.” The employees thought it was quite a coincidence, but my smile became strained as my heart sank. Every year, Amelia made such a huge deal of this anniversary, even bringing Michael along. Now I could see clearly who the real celebration was for. The employees gathered around, chattering excitedly about how Amelia had made this three-tiered cake herself despite being pregnant and how she’d specifically chosen flavors she knew I liked. “Mr. Jones likes strawberries but not strawberry-flavored cake! Mrs. Jones really pays attention to every little detail about Mr. Jones.” Several younger employees squealed dramatically, “She’s so in love with Mr. Jones!” “They’re making us single people jealous again, doing this every year.” As I cut the cake surrounded by everyone, my feelings were a complicated mess. After the crowd dispersed and my emotions settled, I realized I didn’t dare to bring up our marriage issues just yet. I just wanted to give us both time to think things through. But as soon as I started to leave, Amelia came running after me in panic, hugging me so tightly that the cuts on her fingers began bleeding again. “I was too rushed making your chicken soup this morning,” she said. Her hands, once as smooth as pearl, were now covered in scars from seven years of cooking for me. My heart softened. She’d grown up pampered by her father, yet here she was, cooking meals for a poor guy like me. “I just need some time to clear my head.” I tried to reassure her. “Charlie!” she cried out, clutching my arm with tear-filled eyes. Her emotions were so intense that she doubled over, holding her belly and sobbing, “Charlie, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry.” Then she slowly sank to the ground and passed out. Following our family doctor’s advice, I took her home to rest. Suddenly, the nurse on the phone apologized to me. “We sent you the wrong electronic report today. I accidentally recorded the cancer diagnosis on your health check report. Please refer to the paper version instead and bring your wife in for an examination as soon as possible.” After hanging up, I received screenshots from the nurse on my phone. On the electronic report she sent today, it was written in black and white that I had terminal cancer. No wonder, no wonder they could ask so precisely whether I had cancer, too. No wonder they could produce a fake report so quickly. The cold wind from the balcony chilled me to the bone as I opened my other phone, which was connected to the listening device in the room. I heard Amelia, who was supposed to be unconscious, speaking softly to someone else. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be pregnant?” In the end, a bitter smile crept across my lips.

At that moment, I hated that I wasn’t a woman. I should’ve stormed in there screaming and scratching their faces like a madwoman. Instead, I had to hold back, worried about upsetting Amelia with her pregnancy and cancer diagnosis. Even as I stood there, a complete fool, my eye caught something in the trash. It was a takeout receipt. When I checked it, it was for chicken soup from this morning. Suddenly, everything clicked. With trembling hands, I searched through the delivery app, finding every single “loving lunch” I’d eaten over the years from that same restaurant. I quickly pulled up our work group photos, and in the corner of one, I spotted a cake decoration that led me straight to the bakery. So it was all fake. The cat’s pitiful yowl from atop the fridge snapped me out of my gloomy thoughts. It had gotten itself stuck up there. When I went to help it down, it thanked me with a vicious swipe, its claws raking my hand deep enough to tear the skin. I yelped in pain and chased after it, only to watch this cat. It was untameable after seven years, curling up in Michael’s arms like a pampered kitten, purring and nuzzling. Amelia’s face was flushed, her lips still glistening, her eyes darting around, but she hadn’t even noticed my injury. “I probably can’t make it to the family dinner tonight. I need to get this checked out at the hospital.” “No hospitals!” Her knee-jerk reaction stunned me. She still thought I had cancer, not knowing about the medical records mix-up. “Why waste time at the hospital? It’s bad luck. Besides, it’s just a house cat. It’s fine. Don’t you want my dad’s approval? You can’t skip the family dinner.” That knot in my chest just wouldn’t loosen. On the way to Amelia’s father, Andrew Johnson’s dinner party, I asked her if keeping the baby was necessary. “You’ve always been terrified of having kids. Now you’re willing to risk everything for his child? What does that make our marriage? The moment Michael chose to be with men, he should have given up this obsession with having children.” Amelia bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. I asked her one last time, “Did this baby really come from IVF?” SLAP! Her hand struck my cheek. Then she reached out with trembling fingers to touch my face, but I turned away. “Charlie, how could you doubt my love for you?” The rest of the ride was silent, and before I knew it, we arrived at her father, Andrew Johnson’s, villa. Andrew, who’d always looked down his nose at me, gave his daughter a quick hug and ushered her inside. I trailed behind them, silently carrying the gifts. Then I spotted Michael, who had already made himself entirely at home here. “Michael is my godson now. He’s living with us! Got a problem with that?” Andrew snapped when he caught me staring. What right did I have to object? Even though I’d saved the company from bankruptcy, I was still just a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. What did it matter if I’d bought this villa? I still couldn’t set foot in it like I belonged. I’d been played like a fool by this father and daughter. My phone buzzed with another message. After the video Michael sent last time, now he’d sent me a property deed. The villa had been transferred to his name. I turned off my phone and took a deep breath. “If you love me, if you’re loyal to our marriage, then terminate this pregnancy.” The happy trio suddenly fell silent. I could see the contempt in Andrew and Michael’s eyes. My last shred of hope disappeared as she hesitated until there was nothing left. “Let’s get a divorce.” Free Point

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## Ever since my wife took over as CEO of the company, she’s been parading around like a boss babe straight out of a Netflix drama. I went along with everything she wanted. She said every boss lady needs a supportive husband, so I quit my job to be a stay-at-home partner. I agreed. She said every CEO needs a right-hand assistant, so she hired her male best friend as her personal secretary. I didn’t object. But then, she decided to take her “boss lady” persona to the next level, playing out those ridiculous tropes from TV dramas—flirting with her male secretary like it was some kind of game. At her birthday party, she even kissed him passionately in front of all her friends. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, she capped the night with a “loyalty test,” making me catch her cigarette ashes with my bare hands. When I refused to let her sell off company assets for her boy toy’s approval, she called me a leech—living off her success. What she forgot, though, is that the company she’s so proud of? It’s mine. And being CEO? I can do that too.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” At the birthday party I planned for her, my wife, Elena, drew the card for “Truth or Dare.” Her friends immediately started chanting, demanding she French kiss her male secretary. I, her actual husband, was obviously not okay with this. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop messing around,” I said firmly, trying to keep my tone calm. Her secretary, Liam, wore his usual innocent, harmless expression, but his words were sharp enough to cut. “Aw, come on, Ben. Don’t be such a buzzkill. It’s just a game!” “If you’re such a good sport, why don’t you kiss someone else instead? Maybe her!” I snapped, pointing at a muscular girl with acne who’d been sitting quietly in the corner. The air grew tense. The awkward silence was palpable. Sensing the shift, Liam leaned in and whispered to Elena, “Elena, maybe we should drop it. I don’t want to come between you two.” The moment he said that, my stomach dropped. Ever since she became CEO, Elena couldn’t stand being told she was too soft or easily influenced. Sure enough, in the next moment, she grabbed Liam by the collar and pulled him into a full-on French kiss. For five excruciating minutes. “Woo-hoo!” Her friends cheered, circling them with their phones out, snapping pictures and posting videos to social media. “Look at them! A power couple—beauty and brains!” They didn’t even give me a chance to step in. When Elena and Liam finally pulled apart, their faces were flushed, their lips red and swollen. A string of saliva glistened between them. I shouldered my way through the crowd, grabbed Elena’s arm, and yanked her away. “I told you not to do it! Do you even care about what this looks like for me? What am I to you?” My voice cracked, and I could feel my hands trembling. “Oh, come on, babe. It’s just a silly party game. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Elena said dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. “I’m the CEO. If I listen to my ‘little husband’ all the time, where’s my authority?” She patted my cheek, trying to placate me like I was some sulking child. Then, she went right back to Liam, her face lighting up as they huddled together to play another round of games. I wanted to scream. But in front of all her friends, I swallowed my pride and stayed silent. Someone called out, “Elena, we’ve all heard how good you are at keeping your husband in line. Show us a demonstration!” “Yeah, let’s see the famous ‘CEO husband-management skills!’” I desperately tried to signal to her with my eyes, begging her to stop, but she was way too drunk to notice—or care. “Not to brag,” Elena slurred, “but my Ben always does exactly what I say. If I tell him to go east, he wouldn’t dare go west.” She turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ben, kneel down and be Liam’s ashtray!” The room erupted in laughter. “Elena,” I whispered, mortified. “Please, don’t do this.” “Come on, babe. You’re not going to embarrass me in front of everyone, are you?” Her pleading eyes were my undoing. I could never say no to her, no matter how cruel she was. So, I knelt. Liam flicked his ashes into my hands, and everyone howled with delight. But Elena wasn’t done. She swirled wine in her mouth, then leaned down and spit it directly into mine. “Drink it, babe,” she commanded. The crowd roared with laughter, some filming, others clapping drunkenly. I swallowed my humiliation along with the wine. After the party, an old friend pulled me aside. “Ben, what happened to you? You used to have some self-respect. Why do you let her treat you like this?” I smiled bitterly. “Because she promised me she only loves me. Everything else is just an act.” I guess, as the husband of a CEO, I need to learn how to be… generous.

The birthday party had finally ended, and Elena was completely wasted, barely able to sit upright. I drove her home, but the entire ride was filled with her slurring Liam’s name, calling him her “sweet little baby.” Watching her flushed, drunken face in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t help but think back to how things used to be. Once upon a time, it was Elena who had chased after me. I’d never believed in love. How could I? My parents were the perfect cautionary tale. They’d claimed to “love each other to death,” but when either of them found their so-called true love, they divorced faster than anyone could blink. I, their so-called “love child,” became nothing more than a mistake they were desperate to leave behind. After dumping me with the housekeeper, they fled overseas, as if I were some kind of burden holding them back. Ironically, they ended up on the same flight, which tragically crashed en route. They were consumed by fire together, finally achieving their “till death do us part” fantasy. And me? The unwanted stain of their love story? I inherited their billion-dollar fortune. Suddenly, I became the target of every gold digger imaginable. Women swarmed me, hoping to climb their way up to my level. When Elena confessed her feelings to me back then, I didn’t even spare her a glance. She must’ve been out of her mind because, despite my complete indifference, she wouldn’t give up on me. While I wasted my days smoking, drinking, skipping class, and partying, she was always chasing after me, saying she’d save me. When I pretended to be broke, she worked multiple part-time jobs to buy me clothes and cook me meals. When I lied about being sick, she wouldn’t even let me touch cold water, scrubbing my shoes and washing my clothes by hand in the freezing winter. For four years of college, she stood outside my dorm every morning with breakfast, insisting it was for my “sensitive stomach.” After graduation, she saved three months’ worth of wages to buy flowers and a diamond ring, then got down on one knee to propose to me. Little by little, the ice inside me melted. I started to believe in happiness. For the first time, I felt like I could have a family of my own. I thought Elena was my reward from the universe—a gift to heal the scars of my childhood. I told myself that as long as I loved her with all my heart, we’d build a beautiful life together. But reality has a cruel way of pulling the rug out from under you. The moment I transferred the smallest of my companies into her name, she changed. I don’t know when it started, but the diamond necklace I’d given her was replaced by a cheap red heart-shaped pendant. I didn’t think much of it until one day, I noticed Liam wearing the exact same pendant. When I confronted her, she laughed it off, calling me jealous and childish. “Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?” she’d said. A soft groan pulled me back to the present. Elena had woken up, rubbing her temples and whining about her headache. I shook off my thoughts and immediately got up to make her some hangover soup. I even blew on it to cool it down before handing it to her, worried it might burn her. Instead of gratitude, she spat it right in my face. “Ugh! Are you trying to poison me with this bitter crap?” “Babe, it’s supposed to be bitter—it’s a family recipe. Just one sip, and you’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” I tried coaxing her, but she pushed the bowl away, sending it flying. The soup splattered all over me, soaking my chest. “Ugh, you’re so useless! Can’t even make a decent bowl of soup. Liam would never do something so pathetic!” Her words cut deep, but I didn’t argue. Fighting with a drunk person never ends well. I cleaned up the mess and watched as she walked out of the bathroom, her cheeks flushed and her skin glowing from the steam. For a moment, I forgot everything—her insults, her indifference, even Liam. All I could think about was how much I wanted us to start a family. I walked over and reached for her, but she shoved me so hard I stumbled back. “Get lost, Ben. Go sleep on the couch.” Defeated, I grabbed a blanket and headed for the living room. Just as I was about to leave, her phone slipped out from under the covers and hit the floor with a soft thud. I bent down to pick it up, and that’s when I saw it. The screen was still lit, open to a text from Liam: “Baby, promise me you’ll stay pure for me, okay?” Before I could say a word, Elena snatched the phone out of my hand, her face pale and panicked. She shoved me out of the bedroom, slamming the door in my face. I stood there in the dark, gripping the blanket tightly, my mind racing.

When I went to confront Elena, I found the bedroom door had been locked from the inside. Frustrated, I banged on the door repeatedly, but all I got in return was her yelling, “It’s the middle of the night! Go to bed already, will you?” No matter how long I stood there, she refused to open the door. I gave up eventually, dragging myself to the couch. Wrapping the blanket over my head, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how my life had ended up like this. Ever since Liam joined the company, Elena had been looking down on me more and more. She mocked me for being weak, for being slow, for not being as handsome as Liam. I tossed and turned for hours before I finally passed out. Before the sun even rose, I was jolted awake by Elena’s piercing scream. “Liam’s been kidnapped! Get up! We need to rescue him!” I sat up on the couch, still groggy, my brain struggling to keep up. Seeing me sitting there like an idiot, Elena grabbed a glass of water and threw it in my face. “Useless! Why did I even marry you?” she snapped before storming off to grab her phone. “Hey, Jane,” she barked at her accountant. “I need you to pull together the company’s finances—how much cash do we have on hand? Wire me $2 million immediately.” I crossed my arms and didn’t bother reminding her that the company definitely didn’t have $2 million. Ever since Elena took over, she’d been playing the role of a “boss lady” straight out of a TV drama. She’d driven out most of the company’s top talent, calling them ugly, outdated, or just plain incompetent. She’d rejected deals because they were “too risky,” “too small,” or “too far away.” One by one, the company’s major projects fell apart, and its reputation in the industry was in shambles. Sure enough, it didn’t take long before Jane called back to report the company’s dire financial situation. Elena flew into a rage. “Where the hell has all the money gone? What am I even paying you people for?!” After chewing out Jane, she immediately started selling off luxury cars, designer watches, even her own stocks. Something about all this didn’t sit right with me. Liam’s family wasn’t poor—if he really had been kidnapped, why weren’t they calling his father instead of Elena? I quietly sent a message to my butler, asking him to investigate. At first, Elena seemed guilty about selling off pieces of my collection, promising to buy me something even better later. But the moment I suggested she think twice before selling the stocks, her expression darkened. “You just want Liam to die, don’t you? What did he ever do to you? Why do you hate him so much?” Her voice was shrill, almost hysterical. She refused to listen to reason. Fine, I thought. Let her do whatever she wants. After all, this company was just a minor piece of my portfolio. While she scrambled to gather the money, I secretly had my people buy back the stocks at half their value. I couldn’t let Elena go alone with that much cash, so despite her glares and protests, I followed her. As soon as I started my car, my phone buzzed. It was the butler, calling to report his findings.

“Liam wasn’t kidnapped,” he said bluntly. “He’s setting her up to scam her out of her money. It’s all a ploy.” I felt a wave of cold anger wash over me. I tried calling Elena, but she wasn’t picking up. I sent a message instead, then floored the gas pedal to catch up to her. When I arrived at the casino, Elena was about to hand over the money. “Wait!” I shouted, running toward her. “Elena, he’s lying to you! Liam was never kidnapped!” I yelled, trying to stop her. The fake kidnappers froze, unsure of what to do. I quickly added, “I’ve already called the police. If you idiots try anything, none of you are getting out of here.” Liam’s expression shifted, but only for a moment. Then, with a smirk, he signaled the “kidnappers” to untie him. “Well, looks like the jig is up,” he said casually, brushing off his clothes like nothing had happened. Turning to Elena, he grinned. “Elena, I wasn’t really kidnapped. Last night, during a game of Truth or Dare, my dare was to stage this whole thing and see if you’d be willing to raise $2 million to save me.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing around the room as the “kidnappers” pulled down the curtains to reveal balloons, flowers, and a giant banner. “Elena, you’ve proven how much you care about me. Now it’s my turn.” Liam dropped to one knee, pulling out a diamond ring the size of a golf ball. “Elena, will you marry me? I promise to love you forever.”

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I suspected my husband might be having an affair. I hired a private investigator to look into it. A week later, the investigator sent me numerous photos. In the pictures, my husband was intimately close with his female secretary. There was even a real-time photo of them in a hotel bed, with the secretary’s long hair entwined around his arm and her red-painted nails clutching my husband’s neck. I picked up my phone and dialed my husband’s number. As the gathering drew to a close, guests gradually departed, leaving me standing alone in the empty living room. Outside, snow was falling heavily and the wind was bitterly cold, while my body felt unusually weak from prolonged fatigue and emotional distress. I picked up my phone and called Jack. “Hey, Jack, the party’s over. Could you come pick me up? The snow’s too heavy for me to drive,” I tried to keep my voice calm. On the other end of the line, Jack’s voice sounded a bit flustered, “Emily, I… I’m a bit tied up right now. I might not be able to make it.” “What’s going on? Didn’t you say you were checking on the progress at the project site today?” I asked deliberately, already knowing the answer but still clinging to a shred of hope. “Ah… yes, there’s an unexpected situation at the site that needs my immediate attention,” he stammered in response. “Alright then, be careful,” I hung up, a self-mocking smile tugging at my lips. The private investigator’s photos were right in front of me. How could he still be at the project site? This was just another lie he had fabricated. I set myself a one-hour time limit. If Jack could make it to pick me up within this time, I’d give him one more chance; if not, I’d end this marriage for good. I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the heavy snow outside the window. One hour passed, then two hours, and even after three hours, Jack still hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t even called to check on me. My heart turned completely cold.

I picked up my phone and dialed that familiar number. After ringing for a long time, Jack’s sleepy voice finally came through. “Hello?” His voice carried a hint of impatience. “Jack, where are you right now?” I tried to keep my tone calm, but the anger inside me was about to consume me. “I’m… I’m still busy. What’s wrong?” His answer was clearly a lie. “Is that so? I’ve been waiting for you for three hours. What exactly are you so busy with?” I asked point-blank, my voice suppressing anger. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then he said irritably, “The company has some issues right now. Can’t you understand and just go home by yourself…” I didn’t bother listening to his baseless accusations and hung up. I stood up, grabbed my coat and car keys, deciding to drive home myself. After getting home, when I reopened my phone, a thought flashed through my mind. I registered a new account and quietly infiltrated Sophia and Jack’s social media circles. My fingertips slid across the screen, revealing post after post. Sophia’s timeline was full of sweet moments between her and Jack. Photo after photo showed them smiling so brightly, as if flaunting their happiness to me. The photos of exquisite gifts, with captions brimming with love, made me sick to my stomach. “Darling, this gift is so thoughtful. Thank you for always being there for me,” Sophia posted a picture of a designer handbag. I clicked into the comments section, and sure enough, Jack’s comment was right there: “As long as you like it, I’m willing to buy you the whole world.” Seeing this sentence, I was stunned, my hand involuntarily gripping the phone tightly. This was also a sweet nothing he had once said to me, but now he easily said it to another woman. A wave of indescribable nausea and hurt washed over me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions. I took screenshots of their posts and saved them on my phone as evidence of his betrayal of our marriage.

I managed to rest for a night, but woke up the next day feeling headachy and weak. I wanted to rest a bit more, but was awakened by Jack’s rough knocking on the door. “Emily, are you up? Get up and make me something to eat, and while you’re at it, make some hot soup for Sophia. I’ll take it to her later.” His voice came through the door crack, carrying an unquestionable command. I struggled to sit up, fuming, my voice hoarse from the cold: “Jack, can’t you see I’m sick? Why should I cook for you and her?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to refuse. He pushed open the door and stood in front of me with a displeased look: “What’s wrong with you today? Can’t you even do this small thing? Don’t forget, today is our wedding anniversary!” I laughed coldly. This so-called “anniversary” was probably just another excuse for him to show off his harmonious family life. “Anniversary? You must have gotten the date wrong, or maybe you just don’t care about this day at all. And you want me to serve you and your mistress? Jack, you’ve gone too far!” His face darkened as he angrily walked over: “What nonsense are you talking about? Sophia is just a colleague. She worked late today, so I’m just giving her a ride home. Don’t make a fuss!” “Making a fuss?” I pointed at myself, feeling a wave of sadness, “I’m making a fuss? Look at the ‘surprise’ you gave me!” Saying this, I grabbed the small box he had thrown on the bedside table and smashed it in front of him. He was stunned for a moment, then bent down to pick up the box. When he opened it, his expression became complex. Inside the box lay the pendant I had once loved dearly. “This is… the pendant you’ve always wanted. I bought it especially for you,” he tried to explain, but his voice lacked conviction. “Yes, I’ve always wanted it, but what you bought is the cheap imitation that Sophia wears!” I pointed at the identical pendant around Sophia’s neck in the social media photos. “You think I don’t know? You gave her the real one and gave me a fake! Jack, you’re so calculating!” His face turned ashen as he tried to defend himself. “Enough, Jack,” I cut off his words before he could speak. “You’ve lied to me many times.” I looked straight at him. He was stunned.

Jack hesitated for a moment, then suddenly came over to feel my forehead, trying to change the subject: “Emily, let’s not talk about this now. You’re not well, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I shook my head, trying to resist this sudden “care,” “I don’t need you to worry about me!” But he obviously didn’t heed my refusal, pulling me out of bed with one swift motion. “Listen to me, we’re going now,” his tone was uncompromising, as if I were a puppet in his hands, only able to move according to his will. Sitting in the car, I leaned back in my seat, my gaze inadvertently falling on the leather cushion in the back seat. That cushion used to be my favorite, but now it had an eye-catching cross drawn on it by Sophia. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm: “This cushion…” Jack glanced at me through the rearview mirror, a flash of embarrassment crossing his face, “Oh, that? Sophia accidentally drew on it. She said she’d get you a new one.” I sneered, “Accidentally? More like intentionally.” I didn’t say anything more. I was already tired of this marriage. At the hospital, the process of registration, consultation, and examination… I went through all these procedures in a half-awake state. Just as I was about to leave, Jack’s phone rang. It was his so-called “company call.” I clearly saw the name on the screen – Sophia. He answered the call, deliberately walking to the side and lowering his voice, but even so, I could vaguely hear the words “miss you.” A few minutes later, he hung up and came over to me, saying, “Emily, there’s an urgent matter at the company. I have to go now. You take a cab home, okay? Be careful.” I nodded, neither trying to keep him nor questioning him. Because I knew all of this was just his excuse. He was only going to meet Sophia. Back home, I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Until the next morning, when a sudden burst of phone ringing broke the silence of the room. It was Jack, inviting me to attend a gathering, saying it was to celebrate the success of a project. I knew this was just another way for him to show off his “successful man” image in front of me. “I don’t want to go,” I refused him directly. “Emily, you must come,” his tone suddenly became firm. “Ryan and Chris will be there. You’re my wife, it’s your responsibility to attend such occasions.” I was silent for a moment, recalling that unpleasant gathering experience. Back then, I was like an outsider, watching them chat and laugh, feeling out of place myself. But this time, it didn’t matter anymore. I was going to get a divorce anyway, so I decided not to back down. The gathering was at a high-end restaurant. As soon as I entered, I saw Jack and Sophia standing together, their smiles so glaring. Seeing me, Sophia immediately came over enthusiastically, but her eyes flashed with provocation. “Oh, sister Emily is here too,” she deliberately raised her voice, as if wanting everyone to know of my presence. “Long time no see, you and Jack are still so in love.” I looked at her coldly, ignoring her provocation. The gathering began, but I was isolated. Sophia and her friends deliberately excluded me, and no one prepared a seat for me. “What’s wrong, no one arranged a seat for you?” A sarcastic female voice rang out. It was one of Sophia’s friends, deliberately raising her voice so that everyone around could hear. I snorted, “Yeah, I don’t know who planned this gathering. They can’t even handle the most basic tasks.” Sophia’s friend’s face stiffened, about to say something more. Ryan, a usually friendly acquaintance, walked over with a hint of apology on his face. “Emily, I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you didn’t have a seat. Come, sit with me.” I looked at him, about to follow Ryan to his seat, when Sophia stopped me. “Ryan, what’s wrong with you? There are empty seats over there, why squeeze in here?” Sophia deliberately raised her voice, drawing the attention of those around. Ryan looked troubled. He glanced at Sophia, then at me, and finally chose to remain silent. I was fed up inside, thinking I might as well go all out.

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The morning after our wedding, I woke up to the sight of my mother-in-law, Tiara, standing at the foot of our marital bed, looking down at me with unmistakable disdain. “Layla, this house was only loaned to you two for the wedding,” she said, stressing the word “loaned” as though it were some great favors. Groggy and disoriented, I blinked at her, wondering if I’d misheard. Didn’t this house belong to Zac and me? What did she mean by “loaned”? Pushing myself up from the bed, I grabbed my phone and called Zac, who had disappeared early in the morning without a word. At first, Zac hemmed and hawed, his tone evasive. But under my persistent questioning, he finally spilled the truth. “Layla, the house is in my mom’s name. It’s meant for my little brother in the future. I only managed to convince her to let us use it for the wedding by giving her a thousand dollars. “Now that the wedding’s done, it’s time for us to move back to the countryside and live a simple, happy life.” As soon as Zac heard I wanted a divorce, he rushed back to try and talk me out of it. “Don’t be impulsive, Layla. We just got married yesterday. How can you be talking about divorce today?” I was furious, glaring at him as I snapped, “You mean you already showed your true colors the day after the wedding? “Before the wedding, you lied and told me this was your house. Fine, I let that slide. But now you’re telling me it’s actually for Marcus, and you had to pay your mom a thousand dollars just to borrow it for a day?” It wasn’t like I was desperate for Zac to have a house. I had always been financially independent and had a decent job. But I wanted to build a stable family, and if my husband had better financial standing, it would make raising kids easier in the future. Now, however, it was clear that things were different. This house was in Tiara’s name, and technically, both Zac and Marcus should have equal inheritance rights. But Tiara blatantly favored Marcus, and Zac didn’t put up any fight. He was more than willing to hand over everything that should have been his. This wasn’t just about not owning property; Zac was clearly a textbook “submissive to his younger sibling” type. If today they charged a thousand dollars for a day’s use of the house, what’s next? Would Zac have to pay for Marcus’ wedding, car, and future kids? I got married to start a life, not to sell myself as a servant to their family! Zac tried to guilt-trip me, “Layla, you know how hard it was for Mom to raise both me and Marcus on her own. “Marcus didn’t get to enjoy much growing up. It’s just one house. Isn’t it fair to give it to him? “Please don’t make a fuss. The moment I met you, I knew you were a good person, not someone materialistic.” He dared to accuse me of being the one making a fuss? Of being materialistic? Was I supposed to swallow the lies and pretend nothing happened? Wanting fairness and what was rightfully mine made me greedy? I gave Zac one last chance. “Can’t Tiara at least split the house equally between you two?” Before Zac could answer, Tiara, who had been quietly enjoying the show, jumped up and spewed a stream of insults. “Split the house? Dream on! You want my house? Over my dead body!” She continued, “What kind of wife did you marry? I’m still alive, and she’s already eyeing your brother’s things! “If I die, who knows how she’ll bully Marcus! Why don’t you get control of this shameless woman already?” Zac turned purple with embarrassment. After stammering for a moment, he finally went to stand behind Tiara, patting her back to calm her down. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Layla. She’ll understand!” Watching how they handled things, I knew it was pointless to keep talking. “No need to waste any more time. It’s still early. Let’s head to the city hall.” I was done with the drama. If we couldn’t reach an agreement, there was no point dragging it out. When Zac saw I was serious about the divorce, he dropped the act. “You think you can just leave like that? If you want a divorce, fine, but only if you pay back the wedding gift! Otherwise, I’ll sue you!” Tiara’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! Do you think you can just waltz in and out of our family? Pay back the money!” I couldn’t believe their audacity. “The fifty thousand dollars was all spent on the wedding, wasn’t it? Our messages clearly show that. If you want to sue, go ahead. I’m not afraid!” I wasn’t about to be intimidated. When I agreed to marry Zac after a whirlwind romance, it was only to shed the stigma of being a “leftover woman.” The fifty thousand dollars wasn’t why I said yes, so I hadn’t been paying close attention to the money. When Zac said he was short on cash for the wedding, I had generously transferred the money to him, not bothering to oversee the details. Who would’ve thought they’d have the nerve to turn around and accuse me?

When I brought up the bank transfer records, Zac fell silent instantly. Tiara, however, kept barking. “You greedy little gold digger! The moment you see my son doesn’t own a house, you’re ready to divorce him. Don’t you have any compassion for your husband?” I let out a cold laugh. “The house isn’t in my name, and the fifty-thousand-dollar wedding gift was entirely transferred to Zac. That’s me being greedy?” Tiara wasn’t one to admit defeat, even when she was wrong. She straightened her neck and shouted, “What have you even contributed? And you want the house in your name? Let’s face it. You’re only here because we have a house in the city!” I scoffed. Fine. If they wanted to accuse me of being calculating, I’d show them what it really looked like. “So, I was the bride, right? Where’s the guest ledger? Let’s take a look at the accounts.” The wedding was held in the countryside, with plenty of relatives and friends attending. While the monetary gifts weren’t substantial, they should have totaled at least thirty or forty thousand dollars. And Tiara had kept every penny of it firmly in her grasp. I worked myself to the bone all day during the wedding, only to be kicked out after one night in the city. I didn’t even get to see a dime, and now I’m the one being labeled as greedy? What kind of luck did I have to marry into this family? Zac glared at me with bulging eyes. “Layla! All you talk about is money or a house. Did you marry me just for that?” What else? Did I marry him for being almost forty, without a house or a car? Or was it to follow him back to the countryside and struggle? We couldn’t find common ground, so I immediately packed my bags and called a cab to go back to my parents’ house. But as soon as I got there, I was greeted with looks of disdain from my parents. “What are you doing back here? There’s no place for you in this house!” I expected this. At thirty-five years old, I had been the “problem” child in their eyes, the daughter who couldn’t get married. If not for their relentless pressure to find a husband, I wouldn’t have rushed into this ill-advised, hasty marriage. Suppressing my anger, I recounted everything Zac and his family had done. Instead of siding with me, my parents berated me for not being a good wife. “You’re already at this age. You should be grateful a man even wants you. You can’t be so demanding!” “It’s just a house, isn’t it? You’ve been working for ten years. You and your husband can pool your savings for a down payment and pay off the mortgage gradually,” my mom said, glaring at me in frustration, her finger tapping against my forehead. My dad extinguished his cigarette and chimed in, “I told you a long time ago that women shouldn’t work so hard. But you wouldn’t listen, always chasing your career. “Now you’re thirty-five. All the good men are taken. You’re lucky to find someone who’s never been married. “Listen to me, go back to Zac’s place this afternoon, apologize to Tiara, and stop making trouble.” A wave of despair swept over me. Neither my in-laws nor my own parents considered me family. Dragging my suitcase back to my old room, I discovered my bedding and pillows had already been packed away. I had only been gone for a day… Before I could even argue with my parents, there was a rapid knock on the door. “Oh, Zac, you’re here. Layla just got home too. Young couples have little tiffs all the time. Sit down, talk it out, and everything will be fine!” My mom practically tripped over herself welcoming him, guiding him to the couch, pouring him coffee, and putting on her best hospitable smile. But Zac wasn’t having it. His face was dark as he growled, “There’s nothing to talk about. Your daughter looks down on me. Fine, I can take it. “But that wedding gift? That was borrowed from relatives. If Layla wants a divorce, you must pay it back!” The moment my mom heard it, her demeanor changed. “That wedding gift didn’t come to us! It all went with Layla! How can you expect us to pay it back?” She stormed to my door, banging on it furiously. “Layla, you ungrateful burden! You’re the bane of my existence. Get out here and explain yourself right now!”

When I opened the door, Zac stood there with a smug expression plastered on his face. I knew he wasn’t serious about wanting me to return the wedding gift. He just wanted to use the debt as leverage, keeping me tied to him, obediently playing the role of a dutiful wife-slash-servant for his family. But I wasn’t some helpless lamb ready for slaughter. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d gladly up the ante. Taking my time, I said, “The wedding was held in your hometown, right? If I’m not mistaken, the catering was done by Fabian’s family at the edge of the village?” Zac, confused by my calm response, hesitated. He clearly expected yelling and accusations, not a casual reference to wedding logistics. “What does that have to do with anything?” he snapped, feigning confidence. “Either pay back the money or come home with me!” “You…” Before I could respond, my father chimed in, siding with Zac and scolding me. “Layla! I raised you better than to argue with your husband’s family!” I stared at my father, incredulous, as he turned to Zac and handed him a cigarette. “Zac, take Layla back with you. If she misbehaves, discipline her however you see fit. Hit her, scold her, whatever you need. We won’t interfere.” Buoyed by my father’s support, Zac accepted the cigarette, speaking to me with even more audacity. “You hear that? Even your own parents can’t stand you!” I closed my eyes briefly, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll go back with you.” If my own family wouldn’t back me up and would only hold me back, I’d rather fight this battle alone. As soon as we got out of the car, Zac reached over, trying to wrap his arm around my waist. Disgusted, I dodged. Zac chuckled, brushing off my reaction. “Still shy, huh? If it weren’t for being so tired yesterday, last night would’ve been our wedding night!” Clearly, Zac assumed that my agreeing to return meant I had resigned myself to this life. His tone made that abundantly clear. I glanced at him and asked, “Where’s the expense report for the wedding?” His expression darkened, and he barked, “Why keep bringing that up? It’s over and done with. We’ll pay back the money together and focus on building our future!” Rubbing my neck, I sighed, “Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll just go to your hometown and investigate myself. “Fabian’s family handled the catering, didn’t they? It wouldn’t take much effort to ask them how much they charged.” The food at the wedding had been mediocre at best. The beef and lamb didn’t even seem fresh. It couldn’t have cost much. As for other wedding expenses, there hadn’t even been a proper emcee. I refused to believe Zac’s modest wedding had burned through the full fifty thousand dollars. Zac stormed off, too angry to keep arguing. Of course, I never expected him to hand over any records. My point wasn’t to make Zac confess; it was to establish a reason for staying in the city. Zac, pushing forty, was floundering at work and eager to retreat to the countryside for a quieter life. But I wasn’t about to throw away my career in the city for his sake. Whenever Zac suggested I move to the countryside with him, no matter how much he tried to romanticize rural life, I’d bring up the finances. That was all it took for Zac and Tiara to glare at me in silent frustration. Eventually, they stopped bringing it up altogether. But I stayed put, waiting for the perfect moment. Zac’s brother’s upcoming wedding. A month later, I made a call to Marcus. “Hey, Marcus, just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Mom might be planning to transfer the house to Zac. “I’m serious. Zac’s mentioned it a few times already. Originally, we were just supposed to borrow the house for the wedding and move back to the countryside. “But it’s been a month now, and Mom’s starting to think she’s been too hard on Zac over the years. She might be trying to make it up to him!”

I was deliberately misleading Marcus. Tiara treated him like the apple of her eye; there was no way she would ever hand over the house to Zac. “Once your wedding is over next month, they might officially transfer the house. You’d better keep an eye on it!” Marcus panicked immediately. He had grown accustomed to everything in this family being his. “I knew it! Zac may seem honest on the surface, but he’s definitely plotting something!” From his tone on the phone, it sounded like Marcus was about to stomp his feet in frustration. I smiled. Look at that. This brother, whom Zac cherished and defended so much, thought so poorly of him. Marcus had dropped out of vocational school and gone to work out of town. With his wedding scheduled for just before the New Year, he wouldn’t be back until then. He was ready to call Tiara and Zac right away to demand an explanation, but I couldn’t let him ruin the fun just yet. “The moment you ask,” I cautioned him, “your mom will just brush you off. If she truly wanted you to have the house, she would’ve transferred it to you as soon as you turned eighteen instead of dragging it out until both of you were married.” “But don’t worry,” I continued with feigned sincerity, “I would never try to take something that rightfully belongs to you. You’re still young, and I feel bad for you.” I quickly sent him a photo of a draft I’d prepared—a voluntary waiver of any claim to the house. “Here, look at this. It’s legally binding. I absolutely won’t try to take the house from you!” Marcus, spoiled and with little understanding of legalities, was quickly duped. “Layla, you’re amazing! My brother’s so lucky to have married such a kind and understanding woman!” Sure. A “good wife” who was willing to sacrifice herself for them? That was how they see me. If I so much as hinted at claiming a share of the house, they’d probably curse me to high heaven. I chuckled sweetly and said, “Oh, stop it. You’re about to get married. What matters most is living a happy life with your wife!” Hearing Marcus’ cheerful laugh on the other end of the line, I smoothly changed the subject. “By the way, have you decided who’ll host your wedding? These days, brides care so much about having a proper ceremony. Zac and I just had a small family gathering with no vows, no ring exchange, none of that special stuff.” I sighed dramatically, “Thinking back, it all feels like something was missing.” Marcus, still trying to process what I’d said, started to get anxious. “I’m not very educated, Layla, and I’m not familiar with all that. Do you think it’s too late to arrange something now? If you don’t mind, could you help me out?”

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In my previous life, my mother suffered a massive hemorrhage after a car accident. I desperately pleaded with my brother to bring my adopted sister to the hospital for a blood transfusion to save her since they both had the rare blood type. But after the transfusion, my sister slipped away in the night and drowned herself in the sea. She left a note accusing our family of treating her like a human blood bank. My brother managed her funeral with an unsettling calm and assured me not to feel guilty. However, on my birthday, he forcibly took me to the hospital rooftop. “You’re so cruel. You caused her depression and even convinced Mom to go along with your act.” “You killed Bella. You should die to make amends for her.” Then he pushed me off the rooftop. I died with unresolved regrets. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day of the car accident. The loud crash brought my drifting consciousness back. I opened my eyes to see my mother shielding me with her body. My eyes immediately welled up with tears. This scene was so heartbreakingly familiar. In my last life, my mom protected me the same way, leading to her severe blood loss. “Mom, are you okay?” “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” But I could clearly see the blood gushing from her abdomen. How could she be okay? I held back my tears, pulled out my phone, and called for an ambulance. Then I pressed on my mom’s wound with trembling hands, trying to slow the bleeding. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my reflection in the shattered car window, a face full of determination. This was unlike the helpless me from before. In my last life, I was so scared and lost, only thinking to call my brother for help. He didn’t believe me at first and took a long time to come and take my mom to the hospital, causing her to miss the optimal rescue time. Although she survived, she was paralyzed from the waist down and had to rely on a wheelchair. The ambulance arrived quickly, and I went with my mom to the hospital. At the hospital, doctors rushed her into surgery. I waited outside, staring intently at the closed door. Before the doctor could say anything, I hurriedly posted a help request online, asking those with the rare blood type to come forward. I couldn’t rely on my brother and adopted sister anymore. The more avenues, the more hope. I still called my brother. “Mom had a car accident. She urgently needs the rare blood type. Bring sister…” “Are you still pretending? Are you so vicious that you can’t let her have a peaceful birthday?” My heart sank. “No, it’s true, Mom, she…” “Shut up! Mom is not seriously injured, and the hospital isn’t short of blood.” His voice was cold on the other end. “This time, I will protect Bella. I won’t let you bully her anymore!” At this moment, the doctor came out. He told me the blood bank’s rare blood type stock was insufficient and the situation was critical. My brother heard it too. He sneered. “Oh, you got other actors to join your show?” I was frantic. “Mom is in a massive hemorrhage now. It’s critical. She urgently needs the rare blood type. Bring sister to the hospital!” My voice was sharp with urgency, almost crying. “Sister, do you like bullying me so much? Can’t you let me have a good birthday?” I heard my adopted sister’s voice on the phone, full of doubt and feigned innocence. My heart sank further. “Still using Mom as an excuse? You just have to stir things up on her birthday.” My brother’s tone was cold and certain, convinced I was deliberately causing trouble. “Brother, I’m really not lying to you.” I was so anxious that tears welled up in my eyes, my voice trembling. “Enough!” my brother roared. “Do you think I’ll be fooled by you like before? You’re always like this, jealous of Bella, trying every way to trouble her. I’ll tell you, I won’t let you succeed again.” He hung up, leaving me holding the phone, listening to the cold busy tone, tears streaming down my face.

I leaned against the hospital wall, overwhelmed by a mixture of despair and anger. Just as I was about to lose hope, a message appeared in our support group chat. “Is it the city hospital? I have a rare blood type, and I’m nearby.” I wiped my tears and quickly responded. “Yes, yes.” “All right, I’m heading over now.” But five minutes later, I received several voice messages. When I listened to them, I heard the furious voice of a middle-aged man. “Are you kidding? Sending out false information just to compete with your sister?” “Do you think people have time for this nonsense? It’s insane.” “…” The rest of the messages were harsh criticisms aimed at me. I felt like I had been plunged into a deep freeze. How could this happen? Why would he… It must be my brother! It has to be him! Then came the scorn and ridicule from others in the group. “What kind of person jokes in a hospital support group?” “Kick her out immediately.” My body trembled uncontrollably. Anger, despair, and helplessness swirled within me, threatening to consume me. I stared at the phone screen, watching the relentless flow of accusations. My nails dug into my palms, yet I felt no pain. I hurriedly replied. “No, the patient is truly experiencing massive hemorrhage.” I also sent the hospital’s medical report. “It’s the city hospital; please believe me.” “I’m begging you, please come and save my mom.” For a moment, the group fell silent. Then different voices began to emerge. “Is anyone near the hospital? Can someone check it out? What if it’s true?” “Yeah, the medical report doesn’t look fake.” The middle-aged man with the rare blood type messaged again. “I’ll head over once more, hoping it’s not a trick.” I finally breathed a sigh of relief and thanked them repeatedly. While waiting for the middle-aged man, I kept searching my contacts for anyone who might help. Even if there’s just a sliver of hope, I wouldn’t give up. But after a series of calls, all I got were disappointing responses. Either they didn’t have the rare blood type, or they were too far away. I could only place my hopes on that middle-aged man. Who would’ve thought, hope would shatter again. He sent another barrage of voice messages. “I swear, I really want to kill someone. Is it fun to deceive me this many times?” I quickly replied, “No, I’m right at the emergency room door. If you don’t believe me, you can ask the doctor. It happened on Wall Street.” “You’re still lying. I just asked the doctor.” The man’s voice grew more agitated. “The doctor told me the Wall Street accident was minor, just superficial injuries, no need for a transfusion.” “No, that doctor is lying to you; he’s deceiving you.” As soon as I sent that message, I was kicked out of the group. I kept trying to rejoin, but the admin denied my requests. I tried several times, all denied. I couldn’t bear it anymore and collapsed, sobbing. That’s when Dr. Blair called. He’s a friend of my brother’s. “Stop causing trouble. I already asked the admin to kick you out.” “Your brother was right; you’ve been spoiled by your mom, resorting to such underhanded tactics just for jealousy.” “Your adopted sister is pitiful; please stop targeting her and let her have a nice birthday.” All my words caught in my throat, and I cried silently.

I was completely in despair until Dr. Blair hung up. Yet, my brother couldn’t let it go. “Alice Johnson, you never change, do you? Still spreading lies in the help group?” “If something happens to Mom, I won’t forgive you or Bella.” My voice, hoarse with resentment, barely managed to come out. On the other end, my brother paused for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. “Really? After Bella’s birthday, I’ll take her back. This time, I’ll make sure Mom sets you straight.” “You’re so jealous; you should just move out. I don’t feel safe with Bella living under the same roof as you.” I listened numbly, unsure if the voice on the other end was truly my brother’s or some demon wearing his skin. He used to care so deeply for me, his little sister. But everything changed when Bella was adopted. Mom was always busy, jetting around the world for work. My brother took on the role of looking after both me and Bella. Whenever Bella shed a tear, he assumed I was the one bullying her. It happened so often that he began to dislike me more and more. Initially, I tried hard to explain myself. But my efforts only led to harsher scoldings and increased protection for my adopted sister. Now, with Mom’s life hanging in the balance in the operating room, my brother’s thoughts are on Bella’s birthday and pushing me out of the house. My hatred grew stronger. I hated my brother’s inability to see the truth, Bella’s deceitful nature, and my own past weakness… The light in the operating room remained on, each passing second pounding heavily on my heart. Just as I was about to succumb to despair, a call from an unknown number came through. I hesitated but answered it. “Hello, are you looking for someone with a rare blood type to save your mother? I’m a nurse at the city hospital and just saw your message in the group.” “Yes, yes, I’m looking for someone.” My voice was tearful. “Don’t cry, little sister. I found a former patient in the hospital records with a rare blood type. I’ll give you his contact info. Try reaching out to him.” Hearing this was like grabbing a lifeline. I quickly thanked the nurse and dialed the number she gave me. When the call connected, I urgently explained the situation through my tears. The person on the other end was silent for a moment before saying, “I can donate blood, but I need some compensation. After all, donating blood isn’t a small matter.” “I need a million dollars.” I agreed to his demand without hesitation. As long as it saved Mom, I would accept any condition. Ten minutes later, the person willing to donate blood showed up. I hurried with him to find the doctor, only to be suddenly stopped by Dr. Blair. “What are you up to now? Why are you causing a scene in the hospital?” The donor looked at me, confused. I told him to go to the blood center first, “The patient is Eliza. Tell the doctor you’re donating for her.” He nodded, a bit skeptical, and turned to leave. But Dr. Blair tried to stop him again. I wouldn’t let him block my way to saving Mom. Driven by desperation, I lunged at Dr. Blair, hitting him. Like my brother, he was used to hearing only one side. If it weren’t for his interference, Mom could have been saved by now. I hated him. My hateful gaze made Dr. Blair pause, momentarily forgetting to fight back until hospital security guards came to pull me away. More and more people gathered, including the hospital director. “What’s going on?” “Director, she’s the sister of a friend of mine. She’s just throwing a fit at the hospital to spite her family.” I wanted to punch him again, but the guards held me back. “Cora, you’re such a fool. If I wanted to spite them, why wouldn’t I crash Bella’s birthday party instead?”

Cora was momentarily taken aback but then continued with a defiant tone. “Your brother said your aunt had a car accident, and you used that opportunity to bring Bella over for a blood transfusion.” “It’s like you’re making Bella think she’s just a walking blood bank for the family.” “She’s already struggling with depression, and you’re trying to push her over the edge.” I let out a bitter laugh, tears forming in my eyes. I turned to the director and said, “You heard it yourselves. Dr. Blair at your hospital has been endangering patients’ lives and repeatedly obstructing my efforts to save someone.” “My mom was in a car accident and urgently needs a rare blood type, yet he misled the willing donors and even got the group admin to kick me out.” Dr. Blair insisted, “You’re a fraud. It’s not like I just met you yesterday. I’ve been to your house several times, and each time you were mistreating Bella.” The director was more composed. He quickly consulted with other doctors and nurses. A nurse quietly explained, “Director, this young lady’s mom indeed had a car accident with significant blood loss and needs a rare blood type. She’s currently in the emergency room.” Cora turned pale, murmuring, “Impossible, impossible…” The director stopped listening to his excuses and led the way to the emergency room. Cora followed behind. … The red light outside the operating room was still on, a stark reminder that this battle for life wasn’t over yet. I sat on the bench, finally able to catch my breath. Cora was so shocked that he was trembling, looking at me in disbelief. “How could this be… but your brother and Bella…” I ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed on the emergency room door. Cora, overwhelmed and in pain, kicked the trash can and kept trying to call his brother. After a long wait, the call finally connected. “What’s going on?” “Danielle, your mom is really in trouble.” “Heh, so even you were manipulated by Alice Johnson?” Cora punched the wall in frustration, “I’m in big trouble because of you. You’re celebrating your birthday at a time like this.” “Alright, I’m done talking. I’m going to cut Bella’s cake.” “You…” The call ended abruptly. Cora turned to me, looking defeated. His eyes were filled with regret. “Alice, I’m sorry. I was misled by your brother.” “I’ll add you back to the support group, and I’ll help clear your name.” I stared at him intently, “It’s too late. No matter what you do, I will see this through to the end. Your career is over.” “Cora, you’re a disgrace to the medical profession.” Cora froze, his face drained of color. In the past life, Cora wasn’t innocent either. He liked Bella and often aided her in hurting me. It was partly due to his help that my brother lured me to the hospital rooftop in the previous life. Just before I was pushed off, the hospital security happened to pass by. It was Cora who sent the guard away. I want them to face the consequences of their actions. I also want Mom to see the true nature of my brother and Bella. Two hours later, the operating room doors opened. “Congratulations, the surgery was a great success.” I finally smiled through my tears. Mom was moved to a private room, and she slowly woke up around nine in the evening. “Mom.” “Don’t cry, my daughter, as long as you’re okay.” “Mom, about my brother and them…” Mom raised her hand and gently caressed my cheek. “Don’t worry, this time, Mom will protect you.” “I’m sorry, my daughter, for not taking good care of you and letting you suffer for so many years.”

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I sprained my ankle while helping my friend Eloise, who runs a store that sells contraceptives. I agreed to deliver a package for her since it was on my way home. Little did I know, I was delivering condoms that my husband would later use while cheating with another woman. I was still grappling with the shock of discovering my usually gentle and loving husband was unfaithful, when I unearthed another secret. My husband wasn’t just some guy barely scraping by on a $4500 monthly salary, struggling to pay rent. The company he works for is actually a branch of his family’s business. He’s a legitimate rich heir! On New Year’s Day, Eloise called, saying she twisted her ankle and needed me to deliver a package for her. The delivery address was in a luxury neighborhood not far from my home, conveniently on my route. As I was about to leave, I hesitated, looking at the shelves filled with products. Eloise noticed my hesitation and quickly grabbed a few boxes, stuffing them into my bag. “Consider it a reward for helping me out.” Life with Oliver was financially tight. After covering the mortgage, car loan, and utilities, there wasn’t much leftover. We’ve only been married for half a year, and we’re still very much in love, so we go through these quickly. To save money, we usually buy discounted brands. Cheap products aren’t great; they make me uncomfortable. Last night, I realized we were running low. Eloise’s gift was just what I needed. But admitting to a friend that I’m struggling to afford something as basic as condoms was a bit embarrassing. Then Eloise said something that made me uneasy: “This house regularly orders from me, but this time they changed the delivery phone number. When I checked, guess what?” Still embarrassed, I stayed silent, and Eloise lowered her voice, “It’s Oliver’s! Last time I delivered, I saw Oliver’s car downstairs! I thought he was there for business, so I didn’t mention it. But now, thinking about it, you should be cautious. I hope it’s just my imagination.” I checked the order phone number several times. It was indeed my husband’s. But Oliver comes home four nights a week; how could he have the energy to see someone else? Besides, this is a luxury neighborhood, five times the price of ours. How could Oliver, with his $4500 monthly salary, be involved with someone here? I wanted to believe it was a mistake, but when I knocked on the door, I was stunned. I saw a very familiar face—Oliver’s childhood friend, Juniper. But Oliver had told me she went abroad and didn’t know when she’d return. Through the open door, I could see that Juniper’s home was clearly lived in for some time. My mind was racing again, and then I heard a familiar, impatient voice from inside. “Juniper, haven’t you got it yet? Come in, I’ll show you a special trick I just learned. You’ll love it.” The voice was very similar to Oliver’s when he’s being intimate with me. Juniper gave me a knowing smile. “I know who you are.” “But I’m busy now, so if you have questions, save them for next time.” Then she closed the door, shutting out the sounds of intimacy inside. I had no proof, so I couldn’t just burst in. I had to wait for Oliver to come home and keep a close eye on him.

On the way back, I was in a daze, thinking my husband was just an ordinary employee who couldn’t afford such a house. He couldn’t possibly be cheating. But as soon as I reached the entrance of the luxury neighborhood, Oliver’s younger brother, Liam, pulled up in a luxury car right in front of me. He still had that playful grin. “Sister-in-law? Have you finally realized my brother is a rich heir and decided to spend his money to move out of that old place?” Rich heir? The term felt foreign when it hit my ears. To me, Oliver was the kind of guy who compared prices on toilet paper just to save a few cents. Being with him, we stretched every dollar, exhausted after work, yet still set an alarm to rush to the store for discounted groceries. Now someone in a luxury car tells me he’s a rich heir. It feels like a huge joke to me. I met Oliver through a blind date. He was honest, reliable, and caring, so I happily married him. I didn’t think life was hard; buying a house was our shared goal, just like our life together. Besides, Oliver’s passion and affection in bed made me feel he couldn’t do without me. But with everything happening today, I couldn’t help but wonder if his gentleness was real or a facade. Liam, seeing me silent, laughed heartily. “Judging by your look, my brother hasn’t told you the truth, huh?” “But I heard someone was living in the house he bought here. I thought you two talked it out, so I came to congratulate you on the move. Since you didn’t know, who is living in that house?” Liam seemed to know everything, watching me with that playful look. I knew he and Oliver didn’t get along. They almost fought at our wedding. Later, Oliver refused any contact between us, and now Liam had a chance to embarrass him, he wouldn’t let it go. He wanted me to fight with Oliver and make a big scene. But honestly, I could endure hardship with Oliver and work to improve our life. But I can’t tolerate his deceit and cheating. Delivering the condoms for my husband and his mistress myself is ridiculous! I clenched my fists. Liam wasn’t much better, waiting for this moment! I didn’t know how he tracked me down, but I knew causing a scene wouldn’t help. Liam is more cunning and dangerous. I held back my anger and went home, then searched the house for anything about Oliver.

He hid things well, like he was preventing me from discovering he was wealthy. I couldn’t find any evidence! Oliver came home three hours later. He seemed in a good mood, smiling as he hugged me on the couch. “After a year of work, we can finally take a break. Did you buy condoms? We can have a good time. The company was busy at year’s end, we haven’t been intimate. Let’s make up for it today.” My stomach churned, finding his behavior disgusting. I pushed him away and sarcastically asked, “Oliver, you’re probably drained, right? How does it feel cheating with Juniper behind my back?” Oliver’s pupils dilated instantly, then he forced a laugh, “Honey, what are you talking about?” I raised my voice, “I want a divorce! You went to great lengths to pretend to be someone else, making me suffer here while you’re keeping a mistress in a luxury neighborhood. Aren’t you disgusting?” Oliver, frustrated, said, “I did it for you! When we met, you wanted $30 bubble tea. You’re a gold digger! I hid my identity to help you change your ways!” “You being frugal and a good wife is thanks to me! You should be grateful!” “And I wasn’t planning to hide it forever. But you can’t stick to a budget every month. How can I trust you?” “Enough!” I couldn’t listen anymore and shouted, cutting him off, “I was fooled by your facade! Once exposed, you showed your true self?” “Fine, let’s divorce, before City Hall closes for the holidays.” Oliver paced the small living room; he was really angry, a far cry from his usual self. He liked controlling me in bed, guiding me by day, but things had spiraled beyond his control. He couldn’t handle it and said, “Fine! We can divorce! But don’t think of taking any of my money! I’ll generously give you this house.” Generous? I paid most of the down payment, and I’m paying most of the mortgage! I couldn’t believe he said that with a straight face! He expected me to beg, “If a gold digger like you enters my home, who knows what trouble you’d cause? I’ll divorce you eventually!” “Really going through with it?” Eloise sat in front of me, looking awkward. After a night of thinking, I calmed down. “You asked me to deliver the package not just because of your twisted ankle or it being on my way, right?” “What else do you know? Can you tell me now?” Eloise, a friend since childhood, felt guilty as things escalated. “Actually, a few days ago, Liam came to see me.” “Are you really going to get a divorce?” Eloise sat across from me, visibly uncomfortable and unsure. After a night of reflection, I was able to calm myself. “You asked me to help deliver something, but it wasn’t just because of your sprained ankle or because it was on my way, right?” “What else do you know? Can you tell me now?” Eloise, my childhood friend, looked guilty. “Actually, a few days ago, Liam came to see me.” “He told me about Oliver’s infidelity, but I knew with your personality, you wouldn’t believe it without seeing it yourself. So, I helped him stage the scene.” “But I really didn’t know he was a wealthy heir! I only knew he was cheating!” At this point, whether he was cheating or hiding his wealthy background from me no longer matters. Both prove he didn’t truly love me. He was full of deceit. This marriage has to end! I suppressed my anger. “What else do you know? You can tell me everything now.” Eloise shook her head. “That’s all. I’m not really familiar with either of them.” “But Liam coming around suddenly, who knows what he’s up to. You should be careful.” I nodded to show I understood. I have no desire to return to the house Oliver and I bought. I plan to sell it before the divorce and split the proceeds evenly. I won’t take a penny more than what’s mine. Whatever he takes, I can easily get back by visiting home. I’m not bothered at all! Having seen his true colors, I just want to cut ties quickly. No more contact! I’ve decided to stay at Eloise’s place until the divorce is finalized. After reclaiming his rich heir identity, Oliver ditched his beat-up van and flea market clothes. On the day of the divorce, he arrived in luxury attire, driving an extravagant car. In the passenger seat was his childhood sweetheart, Juniper. When Oliver wasn’t looking, Juniper wore a smug expression. I think she’s been waiting for this day for a long time. Oliver is truly blind, having a gold digger like her by his side and not realizing it. From deep within, I genuinely wish them well. May they stay together forever and not harm others. After getting out of the car, he leaned against the door, speaking in a sarcastic tone, “Leaving me will be the biggest mistake of your life. If you could have endured my test, a year later, you’d be enjoying this luxurious life too.” “Blame yourself for being too greedy and impatient. Seeing your recent behavior, I’m more convinced that keeping secrets from you and testing you was the right decision!” I have no idea where his sense of superiority comes from! I rolled my eyes at him, inadvertently revealing my Cartier limited edition earrings. “Who is this country bumpkin?” 4. He noticed them too. “There’s no need to pretend in front of me. I know exactly how much money you have. Wearing fake flea market goods to save face is just embarrassing.” “But for the sake of our marriage, I’ll split the house 60-40 after the divorce.” The house isn’t worth much. In the end, he’s essentially giving me an extra $70,000. Yet, he acts like he’s offering me the world. I’m more disgusted with Oliver than ever! I don’t want to stay with him any longer. “If we’re divorcing, let’s hurry up. I’m in a rush.” My disdain for him was obvious, but he thought I was just being irrational. To prevent him from continuing his act, I didn’t hesitate to turn and walk into City Hall. In less than half an hour, Oliver and I came out again. Juniper couldn’t help but approach us, holding Oliver’s hand and cautiously asking, “Did you get divorced?” After being deceived by Oliver for so long, I had no intention of letting him off easily. So, before he could answer, I quickly said, “No, we didn’t.” Juniper panicked instantly. She went from a delicate flower to furious. “How come you aren’t divorced?! Didn’t you always say you would divorce?!” “Oliver! Are you lying to me? Didn’t you say that after divorcing her, you’d be with me? You even called her a gold digger! Why aren’t you divorced now?!” Then she suddenly thought of something, her voice sharp with disbelief, “You’re not still hung up on this gold digger, are you?!” Oliver, frustrated by her shouting, couldn’t help but raise his voice, “Divorce cooling-off period!” Only then did Juniper calm down, quickly regaining her demure demeanor. She snuggled into Oliver’s arms. “I knew it. How could you still be hung up on her?” “You promised me you’d be with me. You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” She spoke softly, but her eyes were full of desire for possession. This kind of woman is ruthless, but Oliver, the miser, insists she’s the one who can endure hardships with him and withstand tests. If anything happens in the future, it’s no one’s fault but his own. It’s his just desserts! Oliver deliberately flaunted his affection for her in front of me. “That’s right. I’ll give you a grand wedding.” I chuckled coldly. Oliver thought I was jealous and was about to mock me when he saw me get into a luxury car. It’s a limited edition. Just one of its tires could probably buy him a car. Oliver’s eyes sparkled as he rushed over, angrily questioning me, “Where did this come from? You haven’t even properly divorced yet, and you’re already clinging to someone else’s leg!” “You just love sleeping with older men, don’t you? How did I not see that you’re such a cheap gold digger before?” I pried his hand off. “Please show some respect. Do you think everyone is like you, a worthless cheater?” “This car is mine. Don’t think your family is the only wealthy one in the world. It’s utterly ridiculous!” The driver, seeing him blocking me, couldn’t stand it any longer and got out to pull him aside, then escorted me into the car. Under the bewildered gaze of Oliver and Juniper, the car drove me away from there. If Oliver likes to pick fights, then I’ll play along. I am not afraid of trouble. Whatever harm Oliver does to me, I’ll make sure to pay it back! As soon as I got back from City Hall to Eloise’s place, my brother showed up. He had always tried to stop me from marrying Oliver, but I stubbornly believed Oliver was a good person. Though poor, he was hardworking and kind to me. He always acted like he couldn’t live without me. So I was willing to endure hardships with him, willing to leave everything behind and start from scratch with him. Now, with my brother suddenly showing up, I didn’t know how to face him. The person I believed in, the one I chose, deceived me so terribly. If only I had listened to him. I thought my brother would lecture me as before, but he only glanced at the designer bag I was carrying. “Finally willing to use the stuff I bought for you.” I felt awkward. Today, to keep up appearances, I used a lot of the gifts my brother had given me. When I got divorced, I was confidently saying that I could build a big company from scratch on my own. But now, I still have nothing behind me. Yet, he didn’t blame me at all. He just came in and looked around the room. Then he said, “If you don’t want to go home yet, go to the house I bought for you. This place is too small and uncomfortable.” He gave me a way out, and there was no reason to refuse. I agreed, quickly packed my things, sent Eloise a message, and moved out. Who would’ve thought, passing by a luxury neighborhood, I’d see Oliver and Juniper all lovey-dovey at the corner. Juniper sat in front of the car, with Oliver’s arm around her waist, kissing her passionately. My brother, who knew Oliver, impatiently honked several times to urge him. Oliver was startled and probably deflated instantly. Then, with a face full of anger, he looked up and locked eyes with me. Seeing my face, Oliver sneered. “Is this the sugar daddy you’re clinging to?”

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The father and his two sons, originally antagonistic figures, were destined to destroy each other over the heroine. But I intervened and altered their fate. In the end, the elder son took over the family business, while the younger son gained admission to a top university. Yet, at the company’s annual meeting, both brothers implored the Chairman to let their father marry the widowed heroine and make her the family’s Heiress. “Dad and Sister Lydia have already missed over ten years together. Mom, you need to be understanding and generous.” On the day of my husband’s wedding, I didn’t cause a scene. Instead, I summoned the long-silent System. “Confirm departure from this wretched place.” I stood in the rain, the bridge already collapsed, with old love songs playing from the speakers by the roadside until the final note faded away. I leaned forward, letting myself fall into the icy, bone-chilling river. I was a strategist, tasked with saving the antagonist and his family from tearing themselves apart over the heroine. What was tragic was that once the original male lead was gone, my husband and sons were eager to bring the widowed heroine into our home. The System’s voice chimed in: [Master, the mission has failed. Once your physical body in this alternate universe perishes, your real-world body will awaken. However, your time there is running short. Are you sure you want to leave here?] I nodded slightly. With the little time remaining, I just wanted to spend it with my family and friends. But the expected suffocation didn’t come. A strong hand grabbed my arm from behind and pulled me up. “What are you doing? Today is Sister Lydia’s special day, and you’re pulling this stunt?” I turned around to see my stepson, Jasper, panting heavily, his bright eyes aflame with anger. He was one of my targets in this world and later became the most fervent antagonist in the story. He would become obsessed with the heroine, turn against his family, and ultimately become someone everyone shunned. When I became Nolan’s second wife, Jasper was just six years old. His birth mother had passed away, and his father was always busy with work. As a child, he caused trouble in the streets, seeking attention but often ending up bullied. I brought him home, cleaned him up, and planned his future. Jasper wasn’t interested in studying, so I encouraged him, saying a man could achieve great things in business. For the first time, young Jasper had a dream. His eyes reddened, and he asked, “Can I call you Mom? They all laugh at me for not having a Mom, saying I’m a wild child…” With my permission, he hugged me gently. “Mom, when I grow up and make a lot of money, the first thing I’ll do is buy you a big house and give you a good life.” But when he actually achieved his dream, his first request was to make Lydia his new mom. He stopped calling me Mom. He even hated me because Lydia said it was my fault she got kidnapped by bad people and couldn’t come back to see him. The handsome young man in front of me overlapped with the child who used to call me Mom, but his eyes were now filled with coldness. “Stop pretending. You’re just trying to get our attention, right? If you really wanted to die, why choose the road where I’d be coming home from work, perfectly timed?” I was speechless. I just wanted to find a not-too-ugly way to leave, in a place with a nice view. I never expected to run into Jasper. Seeing that I didn’t reply, Jasper mocked, “If you really want to die, find a place further away. Sister Lydia loves this river. She takes walks here when the weather’s nice, so don’t…” He suddenly stopped. I quickly dashed to the other end of the broken bridge and jumped off. Lydia likes this river, right? Then I hope she never comes here again. Every time she does, I hate it more.

My body grew heavier, and in a daze, I heard the instruments ticking in the hospital room. Dad, Mom, wait for me! Your daughter will be home soon! Just when I thought I would succeed, a powerful force dragged me back to the shore. Jasper was soaked, his eyes misty with tears or water, I couldn’t tell. Looking at Jasper, I jokingly teased him, “You don’t want me dead, huh?” Jasper’s face twisted awkwardly, “You’re overthinking it. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me. Even if you want to die, I wouldn’t stop you, but not today! I don’t want Sister Lydia thinking of you and being unhappy on her anniversary!” Of course, it was for Lydia. Seeing I didn’t respond, Jasper dragged me home. “Let’s go back. Today, you can’t die. If you really want to, find a place further away, at least where I won’t see you!” Jasper was strong, and I couldn’t break free. When we reached the Nolan Family’s door, we ran into my biological son, Declan, in this world. He wore a neat suit, looking incredibly handsome. He had rushed back from school, and upon seeing Jasper and me drenched, he gave me a quick glance but greeted Jasper, “Big Brother.” Jasper nodded in response. Declan then remarked, “Why are your clothes wet? Be careful not to catch a cold. Big Brother, change your clothes quickly. Sister Lydia and Dad’s wedding is about to start.” Throughout, he didn’t look at me once, as if I wasn’t his real mom but a stranger on the street. In the original story, Declan was lost by the original character at birth and grew up in an orphanage, developing an extremely gloomy personality. The heroine would be the only light in his life. But now that I’m here, I gave birth to him myself, and I have high hopes for him. In my vision, he and I were connected by blood, not merely characters in a story. He didn’t need me to “strategize” him, he would naturally be on my side. I cherished Declan like my own eyes, afraid he might get lost like in the book. I did everything myself to ensure his safe upbringing. Declan indeed grew up to be a cultured gentleman, unlike the delinquent in the book. He was humble, respectful to his parents, cared for his brothers, and even became a school leader. I never doubted I could handle my own son. But once Lydia appeared, my always considerate Declan turned into a different person. He began doing all the things I disapproved of to show his dissatisfaction and rebellion against me. “Why does Mom always have to go against Sister Lydia? Clearly, Mom is in the wrong!” I never expected that after reading so many books with Declan, all those principles would become weapons he used against me. “Mom is jealous of Sister Lydia, so she let her be kidnapped by bad people, showing no kindness. How can you be my Mom?” At the time, I stood there holding the nourishing soup I had gotten up early to make for him, feeling like I didn’t recognize the son I raised. He knocked the soup from my hands, saying he’d never eat anything I made again. My heart ached beyond words, and I slapped him. His eyes turned on me with hatred. Since then, we haven’t spoken a word to each other. Hearing Declan’s question, Jasper looked uncomfortable. “Just now… she really jumped.” Declan’s handsome brow furrowed slightly, his cold voice devoid of emotion. “Big Brother, don’t be fooled by her. With you there, how could she die? She’s just using women’s tricks, seeking death because Sister Lydia is entering the family. Do you think she could really give up the wealth and prosperity here…” Before Declan finished, I slammed my head against the doorpost. I sighed inwardly, hoping to die with some dignity, but these two boys were too noisy. Hot blood ran down my cheek, and the world went black. Before my consciousness completely faded, I seemed to hear someone scream “Mom” in agony.

When I opened my eyes again, my forehead throbbed. Above me was a modern and luxurious chandelier. I realized I had once again failed to leave this world. Every night, I teetered on the brink of death. This meant my time with my family in the original world was growing shorter. Time was incredibly precious to me. I stared at the chandelier, wondering if I could use it to end everything. Just as I moved, a hand tightly gripped mine. “Cora, stop fooling around, okay? Luckily, you’re weak, so you didn’t hit too hard. Otherwise, you’d have scared the two kids to death.” The speaker was my husband in this world, the company CEO, Nolan. At this moment, his brow was furrowed, his eyes locked on the bandage wrapped around my forehead. His gaze was deep, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking. In the original story, Nolan was the heroine’s most passionate admirer. Unable to attain his love, he eventually turned dark, even betraying the company and harming others to get closer to the heroine. When I first arrived, I drugged Nolan to prevent him from pursuing the heroine, cutting off the source of his later crimes. Nolan woke up wishing he could end me right there. I knew the story inside out, so I was sure the heroine wouldn’t be harmed. In the original story, Nolan was the heroine’s most ardent admirer. Unable to win her love, he eventually succumbed to darkness, even betraying the company and harming others just to be near her. The first thing I did upon entering this world was to incapacitate Nolan with a drug, preventing him from pursuing the heroine and cutting off the source of future crimes. When Nolan woke up, he was furious, wishing he could end me on the spot. I knew the plot of the book inside and out and was confident the heroine would not be harmed. It wasn’t until he saw the heroine and the male lead happily together that Nolan began to let go of his resentment towards me. He tried to understand me, cared for me, and even stood up for me during a difficult time when he mistakenly thought I was being bullied. During those challenging days, our hearts quietly drew closer. Later, I softened my demeanor, managed household affairs for Nolan, cared for the family, and raised the children. Nolan, like any ordinary husband who loves his wife, stayed by my side, promising to be together in the next life. The system informed me that the strategist’s favorability was steadily increasing and that my mission was nearing completion. At that time, my terminal illness in the real world would be cured, and I could choose to pause time in the real world to accompany the Nolan family through this happy life. However, an unexpected change came without warning. One stormy night, the heroine returned alone. She threw herself into Nolan’s arms, weeping and recounting the inhuman torment she had suffered over the years. Usually calm and composed, Nolan was moved to tears. When he learned of my actions that had maliciously hindered him, pushing her into a predicament, the Nolan family was furious. They carefully tended to Lydia at home and ignored me. On Declan’s birthday, I prepared a table full of dishes that the family loved, but no one returned even late into the night. It turned out they were out entertaining a despondent Lydia, just to cheer her up. When I gave birth to Declan, I endured pain all night before delivering. At that time, Nolan promised to celebrate with the children every year because I hadn’t left them. But now, they’ve all broken their promises. When the Nolan family returned, they merely said, “Lydia doesn’t like the dishes you made, so there’s no need to make them again.” Recalling these events, I coldly withdrew my hand from Nolan’s grip and calmly said, “I’m not being unreasonable. I just don’t want to live anymore…” Nolan suddenly became somewhat annoyed, leaning over to hold me tightly. I couldn’t break free, so I just let him. After a moment, he finally spoke, his tone tinged with helplessness. “Cora, stop saying things like that, and don’t use death to threaten me and the kids. Our feelings won’t change, and I’ll discipline the boys. You’re forever the mistress of this house.” Nolan’s words sounded sincere, as if he still loved me as before. But then he cautiously observed my expression and mentioned Lydia. “I’ve already promised, Lydia won’t take your place. You were unfair to her before; now she just wants a place to stay… So, where did you hide her? Tell me, and we can pretend nothing happened and continue living our simple life, okay?” I laughed coldly inside. Lydia has disappeared again? Nolan still thinks I did it? Seeing me laugh, Nolan could no longer feign indifference, his tone becoming urgent. “Cora, stop pretending. I’ve searched, and Lydia’s jewelry is clearly hidden in your room’s closet. Both of you disappeared early this morning… Tell me, where did you hide Lydia?” It seems Lydia can’t wait to drive me away, even using her wedding as a ploy. After all, as the heroine, she craves attention and can’t share a man with another woman. What she wants is to be the only one in the hearts of the Nolan family. I suddenly burst into laughter, “Ha, yes, I did it. Lydia is dead! I’m just jealous of her, so I killed her. Do you want to avenge her? Then kill me unless you can’t bear to.” Nolan would do anything for Lydia. As long as he kills me, I can go home. Nolan was clearly enraged and lost his mind, gripping my neck with his hands. “Cora! How did you become like this… Lydia has suffered enough, why do you keep tormenting her?” In reality, it wasn’t me who changed, but them, the father and sons. I didn’t resist, letting my breath gradually weaken. Finally, everything will end. The door was suddenly pushed open, and Jasper and Declan helped Lydia inside.

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In those years when I had been constantly pursuing my uncle, Samuel Whitman, he tried his best to avoid me. It was not until shortly before my death that I learned he was an immortal being who could live for a thousand years. When I died in despair in the fire, he was holding a grand wedding with his beloved. After being reborn, I treated Samuel with great respect everywhere. I restrained my feelings and even took the initiative to match him with the person who was said to be his beloved. However, Samuel seemed possessed. This time, he became the one who pestered me relentlessly. He asked, “Why are you avoiding me?” When the fire completely engulfed me, I despairingly thought that if I had a chance to start over, I would never fall in love with Samuel Whitman again. Perhaps my obsession had been too deep. After my death, my soul hadn’t dissipated immediately. Instead, I had been reluctant to leave the mortal world, or rather, I hadn’t wanted to leave Samuel. Chasing after Samuel had been my habit for more than ten years. I coldly watched as Samuel married his long-time lover the day I died. When the two of them toasted hand in hand at the wedding, anyone who saw them would have praised them as a perfect match. But I was not one of them. I had thought I wouldn’t feel anything after death. But seeing Samuel and Janet Hall smiling and chatting merrily, my heart still ached. When Samuel was handling my funeral, I followed right behind him. Samuel had been an immortal who could live for a thousand years. More than ten years passed, and Samuel’s face remained the same as ever. However, when he looked at my tombstone indifferently, it was as if he was looking at a stranger. I finally realized that Samuel and I were destined to be strangers. Before my soul wholly dissipated, I made a wish that I would never meet Samuel again. However, things hadn’t gone as I wished. Unexpectedly, when I opened my eyes again, I was back at the time when the Scholastic Assessment Test had just ended. Looking around the familiar room, I covered my face and couldn’t stop crying. I had never thought that God really gave me a chance to start over. At this time, my relationship with Samuel hadn’t been too bad yet. It was not long after I confessed my love to Samuel that our relationship deteriorated utterly. But this time, I didn’t make the same mistake again. “Cynthia.” Samuel’s voice sounded, and I instinctively took two steps back. I asked, “What’s the matter, Uncle Samuel?” Samuel opened the door of my room, and there seemed to be complex emotions in his eyes that I couldn’t understand. “What’s the matter, Uncle Samuel?” I felt creepy being stared at by Samuel’s complicated eyes. Could he tell that I was reborn? No, that was impossible. Samuel seemed to wake up from a dream. He touched his nose a little awkwardly. “It’s time for dinner, Cynthia.” I replied, “Oh, I see. I will go right away.” The meal was eerily quiet. In my past life, I had always been worried about losing things. When Samuel first adopted me, I was afraid of being abandoned by him, so I always unconsciously tried to please him. Later, after I fell in love with Samuel, I wanted to stick to him and be by his side all the time. For this reason, I got a lot of disgust from Samuel. Keeping a distance from Samuel like that was the first time in both my past and present lives. Samuel said, “Cynthia.” My hand holding the fork tightened instinctively. “Uncle Samuel, you taught me that we shouldn’t talk while eating.” Samuel smiled, just like the first time I saw him in my past life. At that time, a handsome and elegant young man gently reached out his hand to me and asked if I would like to go home with him. “Cynthia, why are you so distant from me now?” There seemed to be a bit of pain in Samuel’s eyes. I almost thought I was hallucinating. In my past life, Samuel had hated it the most when I interfered in his life under the pretext of being family. Why was he showing this attitude now? I said, “I’m not.” Samuel reached out and touched my head. “Cynthia, no matter what, I will always be with you and always by your side.” I lowered my head, and tears fell uncontrollably. Samuel was such a big liar. I would never believe a word Samuel said again.

I keenly sensed that Samuel’s attitude towards me seemed to have changed. In my past life, Samuel always kept a distance from me and lectured me in the manner of an elder. But now, something was off about Samuel. However, before I could figure it out, an unexpected guest arrived at our house. I silently poured coffee for Janet, not wanting to get too involved with her. “Uncle Samuel is having a meeting in the study. Ms. Hall, please wait for a while.” Janet sized me up and down, and her gaze made me feel highly uncomfortable. She said, “Cynthia, the Scholastic Assessment Test is over, right? You’re an adult now. You should keep a distance from your uncle. By the way, which university are you planning to apply to?” “I’ll take care of such matters for Cynthia. It’s none of an outsider’s concern,” said Samuel with a sullen face and an unfriendly tone. Janet’s expression immediately turned unpleasant. She forced a smile and said, “Samuel, how could I be an outsider? Anyway, I’m her elder.” I stood aside, remaining silent. Logically speaking, Samuel shouldn’t have been so cold towards Janet. At this time in my past life, Samuel and Janet had even reached the stage of discussing the details of their wedding. I stole a glance at Samuel, only to meet his eyes directly. “Cynthia has only me as her elder,” Samuel said in a calm voice. “I’ll take care of her affairs for a lifetime.” Janet’s expression froze, and she gave me a fierce glare. “Of course.” I bit my lip, feeling awkward in this strange atmosphere. I said, “Uncle Samuel, Ms. Hall is right. I’m already an adult, but you still haven’t gotten married. Ms. Hall is very nice. You two…” My voice grew lower because the way Samuel was staring at me was as if he would devour me. I was very confused. Sensing that the atmosphere was weird, Janet left quickly, leaving only me and Samuel in the living room. I rubbed my fingers, trying to keep my tone calm. “Uncle Samuel, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go back to my room.” Samuel nodded. Then, as if he had thought of something, he asked, “Cynthia, do you really want me to get married?” I stopped in my tracks. Of course, I didn’t want Samuel to get married. But did my opinion matter? I said helplessly, “Of course. Uncle Samuel, you’ve taken care of me for so long. I want you to be happy.” The next second, Samuel’s breath came from above my head, instantly enveloping me. “Is this your true feeling?” Samuel grabbed my wrist and rubbed it, forcing me to look up and meet his gaze. “Cynthia, tell me. Is this your true feeling?” I looked away guiltily. “Uncle Samuel, you’re hurting me.” Samuel seemed to wake up from a dream and suddenly let go of my hand. “I’m sorry, Cynthia. But you never used to be so distant from me before.” Perhaps because the sense of desolation in Samuel’s tone was too obvious, I couldn’t help but look at him. In both my past and present lives, I had never seen such an expression on Samuel’s face, as if he had lost something dear to him and was heartbroken. I shivered. Could Samuel have known that I was reborn?

The mere thought of this possibility sent a chill through my body. If it were true, what was Samuel up to with this attitude? Didn’t he dislike me and was eager to get rid of me to be with Janet as soon as possible? Memories of my past life came crashing down on me like a tidal wave, and a sharp pain shot through my head. Just then, Samuel happened to bring me a glass of milk. Seeing my state, he rushed to my side in a panic. “What’s wrong, Cynthia?” I leaned weakly against Samuel. “Uncle Samuel, my head hurts…” Samuel looked extremely worried. “Are you okay? I’ll take you to the hospital.” A flood of memories was rampaging through my mind, and all I wanted to do was rest. “Don’t.” Perhaps the memories of my past life overlapped with the Samuel in front of me, and my tone was rather willful. “Samuel, I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Samuel seemed a bit taken aback. But then, he smiled, “Why aren’t you calling me Uncle Samuel anymore? Silly girl, if you don’t want to go to the hospital, we won’t go.” Samuel touched my forehead to check my temperature and then held my hand. The warmth of Samuel spread from his palm into my body. It was the warmth I had been longing for. I closed my eyes, and the pain was pressing down on my eyelids. “I’ll be fine after lying down for a while.” “Cynthia, were the words you said today sincere?” Samuel’s soft voice reached my ears, almost like a bewitchment. He continued, “Cynthia is so naughty. As soon as you become an adult, you can’t wait to push me away.” In a daze, I shook my head vigorously to deny it. I wanted to say, “I didn’t. Samuel, it was you who didn’t want me. From the beginning to the end, it was you who pushed me away.” Samuel said, “Cynthia, Janet isn’t a good person. Trust me. Don’t have too much contact with her. If you have anything, just tell me.” I seemed to be trapped in the nightmare of my past life. I could only hear Samuel’s voice but couldn’t make any response. The fire was licking every inch of my skin, filling me with despair. I shouted in my heart, “Samuel, save me! Save me!” “Cynthia? Are you listening to me? Cynthia?” Samuel’s anxious voice sounded. Like a drowning person, I suddenly opened my eyes and gasped for air. The next second, Samuel hugged me tightly, stroking my back as if confirming something precious. He said, “Cynthia, are you okay? Don’t scare me, Cynthia.” I stiffened all over under Samuel’s touch. His scorching warmth seemed to spread through every inch of my body from my back, awakening my longing for Samuel. I took a deep breath and pushed Samuel away. “I’m fine. Uncle Samuel, please behave yourself.” Samuel’s hand froze in mid-air. After a long time, he reached out and pulled me back into his arms. He said, “Cynthia, be good. Let me hold you a little longer. I don’t know why, but I feel like I haven’t seen you for a long time.” I was a bit stunned. The warmth belonging to Samuel seeped into my body bit by bit. Samuel smiled self-deprecatingly, “I never thought about it before, but I just want to hold you tight now.” Staring into my eyes, Samuel said, “Cynthia, did I ever tell you? I don’t like Janet.” I seemed to be bewitched by his intense eyes and slowly shook my head. Samuel continued, “Aren’t you going to ask me who I like? Cynthia…” I suddenly came to my senses. “Uncle Samuel, how would I know who you like?” Samuel gently stroked my hair, his voice low. “You.”

Even long after Samuel left, I still couldn’t snap out of it and stared blankly at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. By now, I was almost certain that Samuel knew I had been reborn. The Samuel from my past life would never have been so affectionate towards me. But this time, I didn’t want to chase after Samuel anymore. In my past life, I had clung to Samuel, pestering him relentlessly. When I was in college, I often interned at Samuel’s company. It was both to see Samuel and to keep an eye on other women around him. The first time I saw Janet in Samuel’s office, I almost went crazy. I cornered Samuel in his office and tearfully demanded to know who Janet was. He just stared at me blankly and asked, “What does this have to do with you?” The tears in the corners of my eyes instantly turned into a joke, and I could still remember the feeling of humiliation I felt at that moment. I asked, “What do you mean? Samuel, don’t play dumb. I don’t believe you don’t know that I like you.” Like a madwoman, I pressed Samuel’s hand against my heart, letting him feel every beat for him. I said, “Samuel, my heart has belonged to you for a long time. You can’t treat me like this.” Samuel just pushed me away and said coldly, “I’m your uncle.” That day, I didn’t know how I stumbled out of the company in a daze. Later, news spread that Samuel and Janet were engaged, and I was the last one to find out. Looking at Janet’s Instagram, I was almost consumed by jealousy and even privately sought out Janet to threaten her. The flames of jealousy burned through my heart, blinding me to how Janet fell and how Samuel rushed her to the hospital. I could only remember the look of disgust and hatred Samuel gave me as he picked Janet up. He said, “Cynthia, you make me sick.” These words later became a recurring nightmare that haunted me in my dreams, tormenting me over and over again. I hugged myself, trying to control my trembling body. In a daze, I recalled that Samuel still couldn’t get rid of me. I became the fastest-promoted employee in his company. Even though everyone knew my relationship with Samuel, they couldn’t fault my performance. But later… Things got a bit blurry in my memory. Later, I stayed up for weeks on end and secured a big deal for the company. At the celebration party, I was almost drunk out of my mind. I took the contract and threw it at Samuel, saying, “Samuel, look! I’m not a child. I’m capable. Look at me. I’m no worse than Janet.” I stared at Samuel’s face, the man who had haunted my dreams for so many years. “Can’t you love me a little bit?” That day, everything fell apart. I bit Samuel’s lips fiercely as if trying to release all the grievances of these years. Samuel also lost control and kissed me back even more furiously, with a hint of punishment. That night, my love was shattered into pieces. But when I woke up the next day, I was happy and didn’t regret it. However, I never expected that Samuel still didn’t cancel his engagement to Janet. “Why?” I asked, my eyes filled with unwillingness. “Samuel, why?” Samuel sneered coldly and looked at me with a gaze that sent shivers down my spine. He said, “Cynthia, do you really think that I’ll marry you just because we slept together for one night? Using such despicable means only makes me loathe you even more.”

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After my daughter’s death, I accidentally discovered that Luke Harrison already had another family. The man who could barely bring himself to smile in front of our daughter was warm and affectionate toward another child—a boy. In fact, on the day my daughter was kidnapped, Luke was out shopping and playing with his son. The teacher’s calls went unanswered, and it wasn’t until days later that the police found her lifeless body. Before we divorced, I confronted Luke in tears, demanding answers. It was only then, after a long silence, that he finally spoke. “Faye,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve already lost one child. I can’t lose another.” I found out about Luke’s other child the day I picked up my daughter’s ashes from the crematorium. Driving home, I passed through a park and saw him—Luke, who was supposed to be at work. He was holding hands with a little boy, a smile on his face so unfamiliar, so alien to me, that I almost didn’t recognize him. I pulled over, watching from a distance as they walked toward a parked car. And then, Luke lifted the boy into his arms. The child laughed sweetly, calling him “Dad.” The sound snapped me out of my daze. I straightened my back, clutching the photo of my daughter in my hands. The phone on the seat beside me lit up, then dimmed again. I stared at it, my fingers hovering over the screen, my mind frozen on the number I knew by heart. I didn’t press call. Through the window, I watched them embrace—a picture-perfect pair of father and son, so ordinary it made my chest ache. A wave of frustration and bitterness rose inside me, sharp and suffocating. I tossed the phone aside and stared at my hands, memories flooding my mind. Luke had always been absent. He’d missed so many of our daughter’s birthdays, barely smiled in her presence, and rarely came home. Even the day she was taken, it was because he had forgotten to pick her up. That morning, knowing I had to leave for work, I’d reminded Luke over and over to pick up our daughter from preschool. I even sent him a message before leaving, just to be sure. But when I returned home that evening, the message was still marked unread. The teacher’s calls had gone unanswered. Our daughter had been left waiting alone, and in that moment of vulnerability, someone had taken her. I didn’t know where Luke had been that day or what he was doing. All I knew was that when I tried calling him that night, he didn’t answer. My messages went ignored. The next morning, the police called to tell me that my daughter had been found—but it was too late. In just one night, my little girl had been taken from me forever. When I rushed home, the house was empty. Luke hadn’t even come back. Desperate and seething with grief, I went to his office, screaming at him, demanding answers. He frowned, annoyed, and tried to deflect the blame. “I told you I’ve been busy with work,” he said coldly. “I didn’t have time to pick her up.” At the funeral, he seemed sad for a moment—just a moment. Then he went back to being the distant, indifferent man he’d always been. He stopped coming home altogether after that, spending more nights away than at the house. And yet, today, I had seen him playing with that little boy, his patience infinite, his smile soft and genuine. The memory of my daughter’s shy voice echoed in my mind. Just days before she was taken, she’d asked him hesitantly, “Daddy, can we have dinner together?” Luke had barely looked at her. His phone buzzed with a message, and his expression softened as he read it. “Sorry,” he said, his tone firm but distant. “Daddy’s too busy. Maybe next time.” But his “next times” had piled up, one after another, until they became never. I sat in my car, watching them until their figures disappeared around the corner. Finally, I started the engine and drove home.

That night, Luke didn’t come home. It was just like always. I didn’t call him. Instead, I drove to his office, parking outside. I waited for hours. The lights in the building eventually went out one by one. The security guard locked the doors, and the street fell into darkness. The cold night air seeped into my skin, leaving me numb. My mind was blank. I glanced at my phone. The last message from Luke was still sitting there, unread. “I’m working late tonight. Don’t wait up.” The same excuse, over and over again. I didn’t want to think about where he was or who he was with. But I couldn’t stop remembering the way my daughter used to wait for him at night, her little face lighting up every time the door opened. I couldn’t stop thinking about the cold, clinical texts he used to send, and the way his voice had sounded earlier that day when he spoke to that other child. The memories played on a loop in my mind until they blurred into one clear image: Luke, smiling as he held someone else’s child. My phone was in my hand before I even realized it. I called him. He answered after a few rings, his voice muffled by background noise. “Are you still at work?” I asked quietly, staring up at the dark office building. There was a pause, then silence. In the background, I heard it: a child’s voice, calling him “Dad.” The sound was like a knife to my chest, sharp and unforgiving. “Faye…” he began, but his voice trailed off. The empty street was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. And in that silence, memories came flooding back—memories I had tried so hard to suppress. I thought of the college years, when Luke had barely spoken to anyone, and I had foolishly chased after him, thinking I could warm his cold heart. I thought of our wedding day, when I cried tears of joy while he remained silent, distant. I’d told myself he was just reserved, that he didn’t know how to express his feelings. But now, the truth was impossible to ignore. Luke had never loved me. And he had never loved our daughter. He had been indifferent all along, taking everything for granted while I clung to my delusions. I’d turned myself into the heroine of some tragic love story, ignoring every red flag, every warning from friends. “Faye, are you still there?” His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “How old is he?” I asked, my voice trembling. The line went silent. When Luke finally answered, his voice was low, hesitant. “Five,” he said. Five. A year younger than my daughter. My throat tightened, the cold air stinging my lungs as I struggled to breathe. I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. But instead, I forced myself to speak calmly, my voice steady despite the tears streaming down my face. “Come home tomorrow,” I said. “We need to finalize the divorce.” There was a long pause. “Faye—” “I’m letting you go, Luke,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. And then I hung up.

By The Time I Got Home, It Was Already Past Midnight As I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Luke Harrison standing in the entryway. He had clearly been home for a while. The floor around him was littered with cigarette butts, and the sharp, acrid smell of smoke clung to his clothes. Luke used to smoke a lot when he was first building his business, a way to cope with the stress. But after we had our daughter, he swore he quit. He’d even said it was for her. Occasionally, he’d do things like that—small, thoughtful actions that felt like sugar after a slap. Little gestures to make me forget how cold and distant he could be. I opened my mouth, ready to bring up the divorce, but before I could say a word, Luke did something unexpected. “Are you hungry?” he asked. From behind his back, he pulled out a box of pastries—from my favorite bakery, no less. I shook my head, but he didn’t stop. He rushed to pour me a glass of water, fussing around the kitchen like he was too busy to stop and talk. By the time he was done, I’d lost my nerve. It hit me, then, that Luke wasn’t just stalling—he was avoiding the topic entirely. And for a fleeting moment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: hope. Maybe he didn’t want this marriage to end after all. But then my eyes drifted to the urn containing our daughter’s ashes, sitting quietly on the table. And that flicker of hope died as quickly as it had come. “Luke,” I began, my voice steady, “I want a div—” Before I could finish, his phone rang. The sound shattered the moment, and Luke eagerly grabbed it, relief flooding his face. At first, it seemed like he just wanted an excuse to leave the room. But after hearing something on the other end, his expression shifted to genuine concern. He quickly grabbed his coat, shrugging it on in a hurry. On instinct, I reached out and grabbed his hand. For a moment, he stopped. He looked at me, guilt flickering in his eyes, before gently pulling away. “Mason’s sick,” he said, his tone full of urgency. “It’s just a fever, but I need to go check on him. I’ll be back soon.” It was the first time in years he’d offered me an explanation for his absence. But instead of softening, my heart hardened. I couldn’t stop myself. “What about when our daughter was sick?” I shouted, my voice breaking. “What were you doing then, Luke? Where were you when I was calling you?” Years of resentment, frustration, and heartbreak erupted all at once, like a volcano that had been dormant for far too long. To my surprise, he didn’t slam the door and leave. Instead, he turned back and looked at me, his expression torn, as if he were weighing something in his mind. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. “Faye,” he said quietly, “I’ve already lost one child. I can’t lose another.” And with that, the door clicked shut behind him. I collapsed onto the floor, the strength draining from my body. His words echoed in my mind, ripping open old wounds that had barely begun to scab over. It was always like this. Every time I thought I was close to reaching him, to understanding him, he would pull away, leaving me further behind than before. For the first time, I began to question everything—the years we’d spent together, the love I thought we had. Had I been living a lie all along? As I sat there, numb, my hand brushed against a glass on the table. It tipped over and shattered on the floor. Instinctively, I stepped forward, barefoot, and the sharp sting of broken glass cutting into my skin jolted me back to reality. Pain has a way of clearing your mind. I didn’t pull out the divorce papers I had prepared. Instead, I picked up my phone and made a call. “Hello? I’d like to file a lawsuit against my husband—for infidelity.”

I Sat in the Living Room Until Sunrise By the time the first rays of sunlight spilled through the window onto the coffee table, I finally got up from the couch. Luke still hadn’t come home. It was impossible to count how many days it had been since I’d eaten properly. The gnawing hunger twisted my stomach, a relentless protest I could no longer ignore. I went into the kitchen, boiled some water, and pulled a bag of frozen dumplings from the freezer. The routine was automatic—dropping them into the pot, stirring, waiting—like muscle memory. When they were ready, I ate in silence, shoving the dumplings into my mouth, chewing mechanically, swallowing without tasting. The thought of following my daughter into death had crossed my mind once, but only for an instant. Because while the idea of escaping it all seemed tempting, the hatred burning inside me was stronger. The person who had taken her was still out there, free. If I gave up now, how could I ever face her again? After I washed the dishes, I did something I hadn’t done in years—I cleaned the entire house, top to bottom, every corner. When I was done, I found myself standing in front of Luke’s office door. He always locked it when he left, but today, in his rush, he’d forgotten. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing I saw was the desk, scattered with photos, and a package sitting in the corner. My mind flashed back to a few days ago, when Luke had come home unexpectedly, carrying a delivery. I’d thought it was mine and reached for it, only for him to snatch it away, his movements uncharacteristically frantic. The sender’s note said it was from a photography studio. I’d assumed it was something for our daughter, maybe a surprise. Her birthday had been coming up, and I’d been pestering him to help me make a photo album for her. When I saw how nervous he looked, I didn’t think much of it. I even felt touched, convinced he was finally making an effort. I’d patted his shoulder with a smile, grateful. But now, the truth hit me like a slap to the face. The photos scattered on the desk told a story I hadn’t been ready to see. Every single one of them was of Luke and the boy. In the top photo, the boy was just a baby, and Luke was holding him awkwardly, wonder and joy written all over his face. I thought back to when our daughter was born. Luke hadn’t even made it to the hospital until hours later, long after she’d arrived. It had been just me and my parents in the delivery room. Even the doctor had commented on how absent he was, calling him an unfit father. When Luke finally showed up that night, he stood silently at the edge of the room, his expression blank, his presence cold. From the moment she was born, he had never once voluntarily held her. I always had to push her into his arms. Now, I looked through photo after photo of Luke and the boy—smiling, laughing, close. Each image felt like a twist of the knife. At first, I felt overwhelming sadness. But as I flipped through the stack, that sadness gave way to numbness. Luke had never taken a single picture with our daughter. Not one. Every time she’d begged him to take a photo with her, he’d brush her off, awkwardly changing the subject. But in these photos, he looked so different. His initial awkwardness gave way to pure joy, his face lighting up with pride as the years passed. There were so many pictures—an entire stack documenting his life with the boy. They weren’t just photos. They were evidence. Proof of the life he’d been living behind my back. In that moment, I realized how blind I’d been. Luke’s betrayal hadn’t been subtle. He wasn’t even good at hiding it. I’d just been too willing to believe him, too desperate to ignore the cracks in our marriage. But once I let myself see the truth, it was everywhere—undeniable and damning. I gathered the photos and the package, clutching them tightly as I left the room. The evidence had always been there. I’d just refused to look. And now, finally, I couldn’t look away.

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