Category: English

Roger Quinn, the man I had secretly loved for years, was about to announce his engagement to my younger sister. Summoning all my courage, I returned to Beltown to confess my feelings. The room erupted with laughter at my audacity. “Look at her,” someone sneered, “a bastard child trying to climb the social ladder.” But they didn’t know. When I was eighteen, Roger had kissed me, a moment so tender it had lingered in my heart ever since. And they definitely didn’t know the truth that I wasn’t the illegitimate daughter. Lisa was. I stood my ground, forcing myself to look Roger in the eye and demand an answer. “I thought you were Lisa back then,” he said coldly. “I’m not interested in you.” Lisa nestled into his arms, her smug smile like salt in an open wound. I bit back the tears, forcing a bitter smile. “In that case, I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” Then I turned and walked away, dialing the number of the wealthy godmother. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll leave Beltown and marry your son.” On the day of my wedding, Roger had called off his engagement to Lisa. He asked me if I could give him another chance. I glanced at him briefly, then turned to my fiancé, tightening my hold on his arm. “Sorry,” I said lightly, my tone indifferent. “I’m not interested in you anymore.”

When I returned from Cletown unannounced, the entire room froze in shock. Roger and my half-sister, Lisa, were in the middle of discussing their engagement. Leona Quinn’s face twisted in discomfort, though she forced a smile. “How long are you planning to stay?” I set my suitcase down and answered directly, “I’m not going back to Cletown. I’m planning to find a job here.” The room erupted into murmurs, the air suddenly heavy with tension. The looks my relatives gave me changed instantly, filled with disdain and derision. Someone sneered, “After what you did back then, you’ve still got the nerve to show your face here?” Another muttered, “Ungrateful brat. The Quinn family took you in, and this is how you repay them? Trying to climb up to Roger?” Silence settled over the room like a thick fog. They weren’t wrong. I had come back to ruin the engagement. Summoning all my courage, I stepped toward Roger, my heart pounding in my chest. “Roger,” I said, my voice trembling, “I like you.” Roger’s expression remained calm as if I were nothing more than a naive child. Lisa rose from her seat, her eyes welling with tears. “If Mirea likes Roger too,” she said softly, “then maybe we shouldn’t get engaged.” Roger finally spoke, his voice cold and measured, “Mirea, stop this nonsense. I don’t feel anything for you.” He didn’t feel anything for me? I stared at him, my composure cracking. “Then why were you so furious when I dated someone before?” “You were too young. As your guardian, it was my responsibility to keep you from making mistakes.” “And the kiss? When I turned eighteen, you came into my room in the middle of the night and kissed me. Was that nothing? Don’t tell me it was a mistake.” Roger’s face didn’t waver. “I was drunk. It was just a kiss; it didn’t mean anything.” I let out a bitter laugh. “And what about the family heirloom bracelet? You gave it to me. Was that ‘just nothing’ too?” “That was to make you happy,” he replied, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It felt like a wall inside me collapsed. This gamble, this desperate, reckless bet, was a resounding loss. Then Roger added, “If the bracelet caused a misunderstanding, you should return it. I’ll need it back now that I’m getting married.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. “Fine,” I whispered. Lisa pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “It’s just a bracelet, Roger. If Mirea likes it so much, let her have it.” The man who had doted on me pulled her close, his voice soft. “No, what’s yours is yours.” Lisa leaned into him, her face glowing with triumph. “It’s just a formality. As long as I have your heart, nothing else matters.” The way he gazed at her, tender and adoring, was exactly how he used to look at me. I stood there in a daze as the room erupted into cruel laughter. “She has no shame, asking something like that.” “They never should’ve let Roger take her in. Look at the mess now.” “Exactly. No wonder her parents didn’t want her. She deserves it.” Even though I had prepared for the worst, the words still stung. Leona couldn’t take it anymore and dragged me aside, her voice a sharp whisper. “What were you thinking? If you had to come back, fine, but why make things so awkward for everyone? “Roger practically raised you. Sure, he’s not your biological uncle, but he treated you like you were the center of his world. “And Lisa is your sister. How could you be so jealous of her happiness that you’d try to tear them apart?” She was right. Roger wasn’t my real uncle. He had taken me in as a child, and I had loved him in secret for seven years. But was it my fault? He was the one who gave me hope, time and time again.

The whispers around me pulled at the dark threads of my past, dragging back memories I’d rather forget. I was Lisa’s half-sister, sharing the same father but not the same life. She was born into the Bentley family as their beloved princess, showered with love and privilege. I, on the other hand, was the outcast. It all started with Hugo Bentley, the man who had promised my mother the world. She fell in love with him, only to find herself pregnant. He convinced her to keep the baby, promising they would marry. But he kept delaying the wedding, and when I was four, he turned his back on us completely, marrying a wealthy debutante instead. The day Hugo wed the Quinn family heiress, my mother showed up at their grand estate with me in her arms, desperate for justice. Instead, she was branded a homewrecker and pelted with eggs. Shielding me with her body, she endured every insult and slur hurled her way. From that day on, she was a pariah in Beltown, a walking scandal whispered about behind every closed door. She could no longer bear the humiliation. A year later, when I was five, she took her own life by jumping from our apartment window. My existence became a thorn in Hugo’s side, an embarrassment he couldn’t ignore. Reluctantly, he brought me into his mansion, but he treated me like a ghost, neither acknowledging me nor caring whether I lived or died. Roger, who lived next door, saw me for the lonely child I was and took me in. He gave me a new name, Mirea Quinn, erasing my ties to the Bentley family. To the world, I was now “Ms. Quinn,” no longer the unwanted daughter of a disgraced mother. Roger raised me with care and affection, spoiling me as if I were his own. He nurtured me, shaping me into someone more elegant and poised than Lisa could ever be. I didn’t know when my admiration for him shifted into something deeper. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with my handsome and kind “uncle.” In high school, suitors came in droves, but I turned them all down. My deskmate, Laura, once asked if I liked anyone. Unable to contain my secret, I confessed my feelings for Roger. What I planned to keep buried forever was dragged into the light at my 18th birthday party. Somehow, Lisa had gotten hold of a recording of my conversation with Laura. She played it for everyone to hear, the words echoing like a cruel joke: “I think I might be in love with Roger.” My cheeks burned as I stammered out an explanation, but Roger said nothing. Instead, he told me to go to my room and rest. The rumors that followed engulfed him like wildfire. Ken, Roger’s grandfather, was furious. He demanded that Roger send me away to avoid further scandal. Roger refused. He defied the family for my sake, even at the cost of being stripped of his position as CEO. I couldn’t bear to see him suffer, so I changed my university application. Late at night, I knocked on his door, telling him not to worry. “I’ve already applied to a university down south,” I said. “I’ll leave soon. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” His room reeked of alcohol. He said nothing as he stepped closer, his breath hot and heavy, before losing control and kissing me. That kiss seared itself into my memory, a moment I clung to even as I moved thousands of miles away. For four years, I stayed away, never once returning to Beltown. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, replaying that night over and over. I thought he liked me. When I heard about his engagement to Lisa, I rushed home and demanded an answer. But it turned out I was just a joke. That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to rest. By two in the morning, I gave up on sleep and went to the wine cellar for a drink. Passing by Roger’s room, I heard faint voices, a woman’s soft, coquettish murmur. “Come closer,” he said. “Didn’t seeing her like that make you feel the slightest bit guilty?” Lisa asked. “What’s there to feel guilty about?” Roger’s voice was calm, even dismissive. “When I took her in, it was purely to strengthen the Quinn family’s alliances. Once we’re married, I’ll find a suitable match for her and send her on her way.” The string I had been clinging to so tightly snapped. I stood frozen outside the door, each second stretching into an eternity. Everything I had believed, the warmth that had carried me through my darkest days, it was all a lie. To him, I was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded. For the first time, I felt an overwhelming urge to leave the Quinn family behind, no matter what it took.

I didn’t know when I had fallen asleep, but by the time I opened my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. I packed my bags, along with the gifts Roger had given me over the years, including the bracelet. Hesitating for a moment, I walked to his door and knocked. It was Lisa who answered. She stood there in a deep V-neck dress, her neck and collarbone covered in fresh kiss marks. Seeing me, she tilted her head with a smile and stepped aside. “Roger, Mirea’s here to see you.” The events of the previous day played in my mind, and whatever lingering attachment I had for him vanished. I handed the bracelet and other items to Lisa, dragging my suitcase as I turned to leave. I hadn’t even reached the stairs when Roger called out behind me, “Where are you going?” I turned, my voice calm and detached. “I’m moving out. I won’t trouble you anymore.” He stared at me in silence for a few seconds before replying in an indifferent tone, “Then let’s have dinner together tonight. Consider it a welcome for your return. Let’s not dwell on yesterday. We’re still family.” I didn’t want to go, but then I thought about all he had done for me over the years. Whatever his feelings for me now, I owed him my life. If not for Roger, I might have died of neglect in that cold Bentley Villa. This would be our last meal together before we moved on with our separate lives. At least it was a peaceful ending. “Alright,” I murmured softly, then turned and walked down the stairs. After checking into a hotel, I buried myself under the covers and slept like the dead. At 5 PM, Roger texted me the restaurant’s location. I got up, washed, and applied some light makeup. When I entered the private dining room, I saw a group of familiar faces waiting for me. Lisa greeted me with a glass of wine, her tone overly sweet as she apologized, “Mirea, I’m sorry. Let me toast you to make up for yesterday.” Before I could respond, Roger reached over and took the glass from her. “Lisa’s pregnant; she shouldn’t be drinking,” he said flatly. “And if anyone should apologize, it’s me for letting you misunderstand. I’ll drink this on her behalf.” I stared at the two of them, their performance making me feel strangely hollow. So while I had agonized over whether or not to confess, he had already started a family with someone else. Those moments I had once clung to, were they really just meaningless signals I had misinterpreted? The realization left me feeling like a fool. It was no wonder people laughed at me. Sensing my silence, the atmosphere grew awkward. Roger’s friends quickly stepped in, showering Lisa with compliments and defending her at every turn. Feeling suffocated, I excused myself and went to the restroom. I wondered if coming to this dinner had been a mistake. Perhaps I should make up an excuse and leave early. As I debated, voices drifted in from outside the restroom. “Lisa, why are you even bothering to appease Mirea? Why invite her out at all? “And you’re pregnant! Aren’t you worried she’ll try to seduce Roger?” Lisa’s voice, though hushed, was perfectly audible. “What’s there to worry about? The baby isn’t even Roger’s.” She continued, her tone dripping with malice. “Besides, the more magnanimous I act, the pettier she looks. Roger will hate her even more.” Then, with a sneer, she added, “Her mother was no better, stealing my father like the shameless woman she was.” I couldn’t take it anymore. My foot slammed into the restroom door, flinging it open. “Why are you doing this to him? He loves you!” I shouted. Lisa jumped, startled, but quickly recovered, her expression twisting into mockery. “Why? Because seeing you miserable makes me happy. Everything you want, I’ll take it all.” Before I knew it, my hand lashed out, striking her across the face. She stared at me in shock, her cheek flaming red, before rushing back to the dining room. By the time I returned, she was sitting beside Roger, tears glistening in her eyes as she touched her face. “What happened to your cheek?” Roger asked. Before Lisa could answer, Laura jumped in. “Mirea slapped her.” Roger’s cold gaze pinned me where I stood. “Why did you hit her?” Lisa sniffled pitifully, her voice trembling. “Roger, it’s just a misunderstanding. Please don’t blame her.” Without even attempting to hear my side of the story, Roger moved to her side and demanded I apologize. The suffocating weight of it all crushed any remaining desire I had to stay. I stared at him coldly, grabbed my bag, and made for the door. But Lisa wasn’t done. She lunged after me, grabbing at my arm. I yanked free and quickened my pace, wanting no part of her antics. Behind me, there was a loud crash. Lisa had tripped over a table leg, landing heavily on the ground. Her screams of pain echoed through the room as blood began to pool beneath her. I froze, instinctively turning back to help, but Roger shoved me away with such force that my back slammed into a table corner. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and unrelenting. “Roger, help! Save our baby!” Lisa wailed, clutching her stomach. “Roger, I didn’t push her! She ran at me!” I explained. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the hospital, my back throbbing with every step. In the antiseptic hallway, Roger’s voice was as cold as ever. “If something happens to Lisa or the baby, we’re done.” I let out a bitter laugh, glaring at him through the pain. “You think that’s your baby? Open your eyes, Roger. It’s someone else’s bastard.”

“Mirea! Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Before I could respond, the doctor came out with news: Lisa’s child was gone. The next moment, Roger’s icy slap landed on my cheek. Before I could process the sting, he dragged me to Lisa’s hospital bed. “Apologize!” he barked. I bit down on my anger, refusing to open my mouth. Roger pushed me down forcefully until my knees hit the floor with a loud thud. The sharp pain made tears stream down my face uncontrollably. “I’ve told you before, Lisa isn’t like other women. If you ever bully her again, don’t bother coming back.” I struggled to my feet despite the searing pain. “Fine, I won’t come back. After all, the only reason you brought me into the Quinn family in the first place was to secure your family’s business interests!” Roger’s eyes darkened with disappointment. “If you want to leave, then go. Just remember, you owe Lisa a life.” I let out a bitter laugh, wiping away my tears as I glared at him. “I owe her a life? What about the Bentley family? Don’t they owe my mother one? Who’s paying that back?” “Get out,” he hissed coldly. Without a backward glance, I walked out of the hospital and into the pouring rain. I sat on the curb, letting the cold rain soak me as I calmed myself. After what felt like an eternity, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Godmother,” I said, my voice steady, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come back to Cletown tomorrow and get engaged to Yance.” There was a pause on the other end before her excited voice came through. “That’s wonderful news! But don’t rush back just yet, stay a day or two and attend Roger’s engagement party. After all, he did take care of you all these years, and it’s only polite.” I hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. “Perfect timing!” she added. “Yance just got back to the country. He can swing by Beltown to pick you up.” I frowned. “Swing by? Is it really on the way?” “Of course it is! You’re going to be family soon anyway. It’s a great opportunity for you two to chat and get to know each other.” After some thought, I nodded. She wasn’t wrong. After my mother’s death, my godmother had reached out, offering to take me to Cletown to live with her. But Roger had been so kind to me back then. I couldn’t bear to leave and hurt him, so I turned her down every time. Years later, I ended up going to Cletown for university. My godmother often took me shopping, and I spent most of my holidays at her home. When I graduated, she offered me a job at her company and even suggested introducing me to her son, the same boy my mother had once taken me to meet. But back then, my heart belonged to Roger. Now, all of that was behind me. I no longer wanted to stay in Beltown. I needed to start over somewhere new. After hanging up, a notification popped up from an old friend. I opened it to find screenshots of Roger at the hospital, doting on Lisa. I didn’t respond. My friend, noticing my silence, sent another message: “Mirea, are you really giving up just like that? You’ve loved him for seven years.” I sighed, typing back: [What else am I supposed to do? Stay entangled in this mess and become the laughingstock of Beltown?” “That’s not what I meant. I just think…” “Don’t.”I cut her off. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t love him anymore.”

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After our honeymoon, Enric and I returned home, filled with excitement and ready to start our sweet married life together. But as soon as we arrived, an unexpected storm hit. My mother-in-law was apparently planning to take over the house my parents bought me as a wedding gift for me, intending to turn it into a wedding suite for Enric’s younger brother. I was stunned, my gaze shifting to Enric for support, but he only mumbled something vague about “family sticking together” and even tried to convince me to make this small sacrifice for his brother. “Enric, hurry up and unlock the door! I’m about to collapse!” The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed faintly, and the door opened with a soft click. The decorations from our wedding day greeted us, the roses still adorning every corner of the room. It was like stepping back into the joy of that day. I kicked off my shoes and rushed straight to the bedroom, eager to collapse onto the bed and indulge in a well-deserved nap. But as soon as I opened the door, I froze. Sitting there on our bed were my mother-in-law and an unfamiliar woman. For a moment, I couldn’t even find the words to speak, the sheer absurdity of the scene stealing my voice. My mother-in-law, quick to recover, stood up and greeted me with an almost overbearing cheer. “Oh, Mila, you’re back so soon! Let me introduce you. This is Leo’s girlfriend, Aria. She’s practically family now, your future sister-in-law!” The woman named Aria blushed shyly, her smile polite yet undeniably awkward. “So you’re Mila! I’ve heard so much about you from Leo. He kept talking about how beautiful and capable his sister-in-law was. Now I see he wasn’t exaggerating!” she said with a bright smile. Although I was deeply annoyed by their uninvited presence in my bedroom, especially their casual occupation of my wedding bed, I managed to maintain a facade of politeness. After all, they both seemed friendly, at least for now.

“What? You’re saying she’s staying here? In my home?” Before I could say another word, my mother-in-law hurriedly got up and clapped a hand over my mouth. “Mila, shh! Keep your voice down! Aria’s in the next room; she’ll hear you!” She cast a few nervous glances toward the doorway. I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my anger, though the effort made my chest ache. Forcing a calm expression, I asked, “Where exactly does that leave Enric and me? Are we supposed to just… move out?” “Mila,” she began, her tone suddenly plaintive, “Aria came all the way from another state to be with Leo. She has no family here or any friends to rely on. It wouldn’t be right to send her to a hotel when we’re the only people she can count on. And, well, I know it’s my fault—I haven’t been much help financially over the years. I couldn’t even contribute to my sons’ weddings…” Her voice broke as she trailed off, now spilling her grievances as though this were my problem to solve. Frustration swelled in my chest. Sure, Aria might be a newcomer here, but wasn’t I a new bride too? Did my needs suddenly not matter? I shot a glance at Enric, hoping for some support, but he was busy gazing at his mother with an expression of deep pity, entirely oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. Great. He was useless, too.

Before I could say anything else, Enric spoke up, stepping in to comfort his mother, “Mom, don’t say that. Seeing you like this… it breaks my heart.” Taking her hands in his, he looked at her with the kind of tenderness I had thought was reserved for me. I sat there, silent and seething, watching the scene unfold. After what felt like an eternity, Enric finally coaxed his mother into leaving the room. Now, with her gone, the space seemed unbearably quiet. Enric turned to me, shifting awkwardly as though rehearsing what to say. After a few false starts, he finally spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Mila, you know our family’s situation. I’ve been so lucky to marry someone as amazing as you, and now Leo’s found someone he wants to spend his life with too. I can’t just stand by and let his relationship fall apart. Please, just bear with this for a little while, okay?” He looked so desperate, his six-foot frame practically crumpled into itself, a shadow of the confident, vibrant man I had fallen in love with. I couldn’t help but think of the Enric I had first met, back when he was full of energy and charm.

We had met in college during a basketball tournament. Enric’s team had made it to the finals, and we girls were there to cheer them on. He stood out effortlessly, towering over the crowd with his athletic build. Through the loose fabric of his jersey, I could make out the faint outlines of his abs. On the court, he was unstoppable, each movement bursting with energy and precision. Every time he scored, the crowd roared, and my heart fluttered. What girl wouldn’t fall for a man like that? As if fate had plans for us, I was later chosen to join the cheer squad, giving me the perfect excuse to be near him. We discovered we were both from the same hometown, and conversations over coffee and shared meals quickly became a routine. Our mutual attraction was undeniable, though unspoken, until tragedy struck. Enric’s father passed away unexpectedly. The loss shattered him, leaving behind a man who was barely a shadow of his former self. Gone was the carefree athlete; in his place was someone drowning in grief. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I clung to him, trying to pull him back into the light, until one night, after a few too many drinks, he finally let his walls down. That night, he showed me the side of himself he had kept hidden: the pain, the fears, and the vulnerability.

Enric came from a humble background. To be honest, it was more on the struggling side. He grew up in a cramped, 500-square-foot house in a small town, sharing the limited space with his parents and younger brother. His father picked up odd jobs wherever he could, while his mother, a traditional rural homemaker, took care of the household and mended old clothes to make ends meet. When Enric’s father passed away, it felt like the entire sky had fallen for their family. Hearing about Enric’s life, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of heartache and admiration. I pitied the hardships he had endured but respected the determination that drove him to earn a place at our prestigious university. His resilience struck a chord deep within me, and I wanted to be the light that pulled him out of the shadows. That was how we started dating. We became the quintessential campus couple, a pair envied by everyone around us. I believed wholeheartedly in his perseverance and dedication. Despite his modest family background, I never hesitated in committing to a future with him. That same belief was what made me relent when Enric pleaded with me to let Aria stay. I couldn’t ignore the desperation in his eyes, even though it grated against my own sense of fairness. Eventually, I agreed, on one condition: the arrangement was temporary. Once Aria and Leo were married, they would need to move into their own place because Enric and I still needed the house as our home.

When I married Enric, his family had next to nothing. They couldn’t afford wedding gifts or a grand wedding. I understood the weight he carried as the eldest son and never pressured him for more than he could provide. My parents, on the other hand, were deeply concerned for me. They wanted to ensure I’d have a stable future, so they fully paid for a house as a wedding gift for me. But in reality, it was meant to be our marital home. Even after the wedding, my parents funded our honeymoon, which Enric and I had just returned from, still basking in the joy of those precious days together. Now, the idea of letting someone else move into the house I had barely gotten to enjoy felt like a bitter pill to swallow. But for Enric’s sake, I held my tongue. When I finally agreed, Enric was overwhelmed, pulling me into his arms with tears brimming in his eyes. He kept apologizing, promising to make it up to me in the future. That night, we packed up and spent the night at his mother’s house. As soon as we stepped inside, the cramped space, outdated furnishings, and lingering scent of cooking oil made my stomach churn. But when I glanced at Enric, I swallowed my discomfort, choosing silence over complaint. After Enric’s father passed, he had a lot of burden because he was the eldest son. The bed creaked beneath me, the mattress sagging in places, and the damp quilt carried the faint scent of mildew. I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep, but the night stretched on in restless misery. By the time morning came, my dark-circled eyes told the entire story. Enric noticed but hesitated to say anything, his guilt written all over his face.

After breakfast, we wasted no time heading to a nearby real estate agent. We both knew his family’s house wasn’t an option for me. It was impossible to live there long-term. Through the agent, we found a fully furnished apartment, move-in ready, and signed a three-month lease. I thought to myself, “Three months should be enough for Aria and Leo to settle their wedding plans.” By the end of the day, we had packed up and moved into the new apartment. Over the next few weeks, I grew closer to Aria. She was warm and sweet, always greeting me cheerfully. She often dragged me along for shopping trips, snacks, and walks. For a moment, it felt like I’d gained a sister I never had. In our conversations, I learned more about her. Aria was an orphan, raised in a welfare home. Her story moved me. This bubbly, carefree girl had so much courage to chase after love, despite the odds. She had known Leo online, and she had come all the way to this city for him, a bold and romantic move for someone with no one to rely on. Time flew by, and before I knew it, over a month had passed. One evening, as the whole family gathered for dinner, Leo stood up to make an announcement. “We’ve set the date,” he said with a smile. “Aria and I will be getting married at the start of next month.” All eyes turned to Aria, who sat across from me, her face lighting up. Her shy smile made her look delicate.

As the wedding day drew closer, Aria’s nervousness became more and more apparent. Feeling a mix of sympathy for her and a sense of familial responsibility, I spent much of my time with her. I helped with wedding preparations, trying to ease her anxiety and help her relax. One afternoon, while chatting, I casually asked Aria where she and Leo planned to live after the wedding. Her response left me frozen in place. “We’ll stay in the house I’m living in now, of course. Why do you ask?” she replied, her face showing nothing but innocence. Her words hit me like a thunderclap. Trying to stay calm, I repeated, “You and Leo will live in the house you’re in now?” “Yes!” Aria said, her tone cheerful, though her brows furrowed slightly as if wondering why I was so surprised. “Leo told me this would be our marital home. He even decorated it before I arrived; he covered it in red roses! Isn’t he thoughtful?” Watching her radiant smile as she spoke, I felt a chill seep through my chest. That evening, Enric had barely stepped through the door when I confronted him. “Enric, your brother is planning to use our marital home as his wedding house!” He froze, his expression puzzled. “Wait, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” His confusion seemed genuine, which only deepened my suspicions. Could it be that he didn’t know? I studied his face, my mind racing. “I found out today while chatting with Aria,” I explained, detailing the conversation. As I spoke, I watched his face for any sign of recognition, but he just stood there, frowning in silence. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. My tone turned sharp. “Enric, whether you knew about this or not, you know now. I don’t care whose idea this was, but you’d better give me an explanation I can accept.” The truth was, the moment Aria mentioned it, I had already guessed what was happening. It didn’t matter who orchestrated it; the goal was clear: they wanted my house for Leo’s marriage. Enric squirmed under my glare. “Honey, please don’t be angry. Let me go talk to Mom and Leo about it,” he stammered before grabbing his coat and rushing out without waiting for my reply.

t was almost midnight when Enric returned, looking utterly exhausted. He flipped on the light, only to find me sitting in the dark, waiting. “Honey, why aren’t you asleep? What are you doing sitting here?” “I’m waiting,” I said calmly, my gaze unwavering. “I want to hear what you’ve decided.” We locked eyes, the silence stretching between us like a taut rope. Enric opened his mouth, then closed it again, repeating the motion several times before finally speaking. “Honey, let’s just let Leo borrow the house for a little while.” “Borrow it?” My voice was ice cold. “For how long? Ten years? Twenty? Or maybe for the rest of his life?” “Come on, honey,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “He’s my only brother, and it’s not like we’re homeless. We already have a place to stay. Can’t we just let him use it for now?” Enric pleaded with me for what felt like forever. I neither agreed nor outright refused, telling him I needed time to think. This wasn’t the Enric I knew. What had his mother and brother said to him to make him so willing to disregard my feelings? That night, I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts churned restlessly until I was pulled from them by the incessant buzzing of Enric’s phone. Annoyed, I reached for it to put it on silent. That’s when I saw it: a message from his mother. [Enric, how’s it going?] Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened their chat.

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## A self-proclaimed rich girl came to our company for an interview today. Her answers were all over the place, yet somehow, she managed to beat out Ivy League graduates. “Oh no, I wasn’t ready earlier. Can we start over?” she said. The panel of interviewers froze, their fake smiles plastered on their faces. And so, the “exclusive” interview began. From morning till evening, it was all about her. By the time the city lights came on, the exhausted interviewers, looking like they’d just aged ten years, announced mandatory overtime for everyone in the company. That night, the rich girl posted a video: “Day 1 of inheriting my family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.” I immediately called my mom. “Spill it. Do you have a secret love child, or am I some swapped-at-birth fake heiress?” A self-proclaimed rich girl came to our company for an interview today. Her answers were all over the place, yet somehow, she managed to beat out Ivy League graduates. “Oh no, I wasn’t ready earlier. Can we start over?” she said. The panel of interviewers froze, their fake smiles plastered on their faces. And so, the “exclusive” interview began. From morning till evening, it was all about her. By the time the city lights came on, the exhausted interviewers, looking like they’d just aged ten years, announced mandatory overtime for everyone in the company. That night, the rich girl posted a video: “Day 1 of inheriting my family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.” I immediately called my mom. “Spill it. Do you have a secret love child, or am I some swapped-at-birth fake heiress?”

Today was interview day at the office. All the candidates had left, but somehow, the interview wasn’t over. “Didn’t the interviews finish already? Why aren’t the managers out yet?” Zach, who needed some signatures, was pacing back and forth, visibly frustrated. “Shh! You don’t know? The boss’s ‘daughter’ is still in there.” “What?!” “Yeah, the heiress. She even posted about it yesterday.” Suddenly, everyone perked up. Whispers spread like wildfire as gossip flooded every group chat. Curious, I clicked on the link in one of the gossip threads. “Tomorrow’s my big interview—what should I wear?” In the video, the enormous walk-in closet looked disturbingly familiar. And in the back corner? My best friend’s gift—a pair of my silk pajamas. My blood boiled. I immediately called the housekeeper. “Uncle Frank, is everything all right at home?” “Uh… yes, Miss Claire. Everything’s fine…” Uncle Frank’s usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be found. His hesitation sent a chill down my spine. Something was definitely wrong. “How’s my mom doing? Is she okay? When are you coming back?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. “She’s still in treatment. I’ll be back soon,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I’d been abroad since high school, receiving a top-tier education. Six months ago, when my mom suddenly fell ill, I brought her overseas for treatment. Her condition had stabilized, and I’d just finished my studies. It was time to return and take over the family business, as my mom had requested. To get a clear picture of how things were running, I decided to apply to the company anonymously, just to see what was really going on. A little undercover “work experience,” if you will. But I wasn’t expecting to walk into a scene straight out of a soap opera: a fake heiress playing dress-up in my house and pretending to be me. Staring at the messy pile of clothes and accessories in her video, all of which were mine, I clenched my fists. This was going to cost me, wasn’t it? No matter. I was going to find out who was behind this nonsense. That night, the fake heiress posted another video: “Day 1 of inheriting the family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.”

The next morning, the gossip group chat exploded again. Someone had leaked photos of the fake heiress arriving at work. Wearing oversized sunglasses, “Mia” stepped out of a car—my car. She clutched an Hermès bag—my bag. And from the slightly ill-fitting suit she was wearing? That was my suit too. Of course, it looked a little loose on her, given her short and stocky frame. Before she even made it to the elevator, the fashionistas in the chat had dissected her outfit from head to toe. “She’s the real deal, all right! It’s like she’s wearing a whole mansion on her back!” “I wish I could be friends with a rich girl like that.” “Who wouldn’t want to be her bestie?” But their admiration didn’t last long. On her first day, the fake heiress immediately stole the team leader’s desk, claiming it had better lighting for her videos. The team leader’s polite smile froze on her face. By day two, she outright plagiarized a coworker’s report and passed it off as her own. By day three, she was randomly berating another coworker for “poor performance.” Every day, she updated her followers with videos portraying herself as the ultimate corporate powerhouse. According to her, the bosses were practically begging her to take over. She painted herself as a workplace prodigy, while the rest of us were reduced to her “supporting cast.” Her fans even gave us nicknames: “Useless Coworker #1,” “Useless Coworker #2,” and so on. The managers, spineless and sycophantic, let her do whatever she wanted. My coworkers were furious but too scared to speak up. Watching all of this unfold, my disappointment in the company’s leadership grew. I quietly documented everything in a little notebook, page after page filling up with her misdeeds.

3 It was time for our team’s product presentation. I’d spent several nights working overtime, perfecting the PPT slides. Just as I was about to take the stage, Mia strutted over, holding her phone up for a live stream. “Claire, what are you standing there for? Can’t you see the managers don’t have any water? Go fetch some, now!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes darting nervously, though she tried to mask it with an air of superiority. “Such a lack of awareness,” she muttered. Turning to her live stream audience, she added in a sickly-sweet voice, “See, my precious fans? I have to be strict with these employees—they’re just too lazy without me!” I squinted at her, pretending to comply, and walked toward the door. But instead of leaving, I stopped just outside, leaning against the wall to listen. Sure enough, Mia had an ulterior motive. She confidently stepped up to the podium, opened the PPT I’d worked so hard on, and adopted a serious expression. “Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Mia, and I’ll be presenting today’s product overview.” She turned to the managers and added with fake humility, “I just joined the company, so my presentation might not be perfect. Please give me your feedback.” The team, catching on to her sly move, turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. I crossed my arms and glared. My icy demeanor made them all shrink back a little. To her credit, Mia had a sweet voice, and she read through my slides word-for-word, as if they were her own. The room erupted into applause when she finished, and she flashed a wide, self-satisfied smile at her viewers, even winking at the camera. But then, someone interrupted. “So, what’s the design concept behind this product?” The applause died instantly. Mia froze, the question catching her completely off guard. The room fell silent as everyone turned to me. “Uh, the concept? Well, it’s… um… it’s designed to… increase revenue! Yes, that’s it—revenue!” Her face turned bright red as she stammered out a response. The room stayed quiet for a long, awkward three seconds before the department manager finally stepped in to smooth things over. “Well, at the end of the day, it’s all about contributing to the company’s success!” The audience murmured in agreement, but I felt disgusted. A market manager with no principles? How could this company ever grow? I sighed, frustrated. Later, Mia began to notice the growing dissatisfaction among her coworkers. To win them over, she began bringing in snacks and drinks every afternoon. “I ordered everyone some treats!” she announced, grinning. “Thanks, boss!” someone joked. “Don’t call me that—I am trying to keep a low profile!” Slowly but surely, her “sugar bombs” worked. My coworkers began warming up to her, overlooking her antics. But of course, Mia wasn’t about to let me off easy. “Oh no, Claire, I forgot you were here! I didn’t order anything for you—oops!” Her acting was atrocious, but the result was painfully effective. I was gradually ostracized by the team, left out of conversations and projects.

The company’s mid-year product sales meeting was fast approaching. The team leader assigned me to handle “service work.” “Service work? You mean, like a waiter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m just kidding,” he replied with a smirk. “But seriously, Claire, make sure everything’s perfect. No mistakes.” Mia covered her mouth, giggling as she exchanged smug glances with the others. The toxic atmosphere in the team was grating on my nerves. The team leader had no control over the chaos Mia stirred up, and I was running out of patience. Still, he had one announcement that caught everyone’s attention: “This time, Mr. Grant from Kingsman Group will be attending the meeting. He’s a key client, and his investment will determine next year’s orders. So, bring your A-game.” “Mr. Grant?” someone whispered. “THE Mr. Grant? The George Clooney of Wall Street?” The room buzzed with excitement. My female coworkers looked ready to faint, their cheeks glowing red. Mia’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. I, on the other hand, groaned inwardly. Why does it have to be him? The company was pulling out all the stops for the sales meeting. To secure Mr. Grant’s investment, everyone had been working overtime for a week, ensuring every detail was flawless. The day of the event, Mia, who wasn’t even part of the reception team, showed up early. “Claire doesn’t have the experience for this kind of high-stakes event,” she declared to the team leader. “I should handle the reception instead.” “This is too important to risk,” the team leader replied flatly. “You don’t have the expertise.” “Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take full responsibility,” Mia insisted, her tone laced with veiled threats. “And don’t forget—I’m going to inherit this company one day.” The team leader caved, unwilling to argue. I, meanwhile, couldn’t have been happier to avoid dealing with Mr. Grant. As the biggest investor, Mr. Grant arrived last, making an entrance that turned heads. Tall, sharp, and effortlessly charismatic, he strode into the room like he owned the place, his piercing gaze sweeping across the crowd. Mia’s face lit up as she rushed forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mr. Grant, I’m Mia. I’ll be assisting you today,” she said with a forced giggle. He didn’t even glance at her, walking straight past as his eyes scanned the room. “Mr. Grant, you’re so funny!” Mia called after him, mistaking his indifference for teasing. “My dad owns Titan Group. He told me our families go way back.” Mr. Grant stopped abruptly, turning to look at her. His expression darkened, his piercing gaze now cold and scrutinizing. “Excuse me,” he said icily, “but the Grants and the Lee family are not ‘old friends.’” The room went dead silent. In reality, the Grants were close with my family—the Charlestons. Without us, the Lee family was nothing. Mia’s face turned pale as she stumbled back. Quickly, the team leader stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. “Mia, apologize to Mr. Grant. He’s just joking with you!” “Uncle!” Mia whined, her voice trembling, clearly trying to play the victim. Across the room, the other company executives exchanged knowing smirks. No one took Mia seriously anymore—except me. I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside me. Titan Group had been built by my grandfather and nurtured by my family for three generations. It was the heart of the Charleston legacy. And I wouldn’t let anyone—least of all Mia—tear it apart.

The product sales meeting was a disaster. As the chaos wound down, Mr. Grant—aka Ethan—shot me a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. I gave him a small nod in return. At the coffee shop downstairs: “Why are you here, Ethan?” I asked, sipping my coffee. “Someone’s been back in town for weeks and didn’t even bother to let me know. What was I supposed to do? Wait for a formal invitation?” He leaned back in his chair, his usual playful grin on full display. “And don’t pretend you didn’t miss me.” Ethan’s casual charm was in full force, complete with exaggerated winks and flirtatious smirks. “Alright, enough. What’s the deal with this Mia?” “Don’t worry,” I said, smirking. “She’ll be handled soon enough.” We hadn’t seen each other in ages, and the conversation flowed so easily that neither of us noticed the pair of angry eyes glaring at us from outside the café window. When I returned to the office, things felt… off. Everyone was staring at me, their expressions a mix of judgment and disdain. “Hmph, does she even know her place? Imagining she could catch Mr. Grant’s eye?” “Exactly. Throwing herself at him during the company event—what a disgrace! She embarrassed all of us.” Two coworkers who used to be friendly with me were now taking turns mocking me in whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. “Claire, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?” Mia suddenly interjected, pointing a furious finger at me. “You’re shameless! Flirting with Mr. Grant instead of focusing on your work? Do you even want this job?” Her face was flushed with anger, but her tone was laced with triumph. “That’s ridiculous,” I replied calmly. “Ethan and I are just friends.” My words were met with laughter. “Friends? You? With someone like Mr. Grant?” Mia sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. “Yeah,” one of the others chimed in. “If you want to marry into money, maybe try reincarnating into a rich family first!” I glanced around at their mocking faces, keeping my composure. Then, I let a slow, deliberate smile spread across my lips. “Well, since you’re all in such a good mood,” I said, my voice sweet but cold, “you’ll be thrilled to hear the news: because of Mia’s poor performance during the meeting, the entire marketing department’s year-end bonuses have been canceled.” The office fell silent. The laughter stopped instantly, and everyone turned to me, their mouths agape in shock. Just moments earlier, I had contacted the head of the finance department—one of my mother’s most trusted employees. Ever since Mia had joined the company, the marketing department had descended into chaos. The leadership was spineless, the employees were lazy, and everyone spent more time scheming against each other than actually doing their jobs. When things went wrong, no one tried to fix them. Instead, they pointed fingers and gossiped. If they couldn’t self-correct, they deserved to face the consequences.

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Edward Wellington’s mom, Chloe Wellington, didn’t think I was worthy of being with Edward and offered me 50 million dollars to leave him. My good friend, Ashley Morgan, disagreed and said, “True love is the best of all worlds. Your pure love can’t be tainted with money. If you take the money and leave now, you’ll live with the guilt of Mr. Wellington for the rest of your life.” I believed her and didn’t ask for the money, only hoping that Edward would be nice to me. But later, I found out that Edward had been dating Ashley for a long time. In the end, I had nothing left and got breast cancer out of anger, while Ashley took the 100 million dollars from Chloe and broke up with Edward. I found her in her luxury villa and begged her to lend me the money for the surgery. But I got red wine thrown in my face. She said, “You’re such a dumbass. I stole your boyfriend and took the breakup fee that should have belonged to you. I’m afraid you’ll hold a grudge against me. How could I possibly save you?” In the end, I died of breast cancer. Opening my eyes again, I traveled back to when Chloe offered me 50 million dollars to demand that I leave Edward. I took off my Bluetooth headset and turned my cell phone off, then shook my head at Chloe and said, “Mrs. Chloe Wellington, I’m pregnant with Edward’s baby.”

Edward Wellington’s mom, Chloe Wellington, said, “My son is the president of the Wellington Group and is voted best bachelor, but you’re a factory girl. You are not suitable. Even if you’re together, you’ll end up apart. You’d better listen to me. Take the money and leave Edward. It’s better for both of you.” The check was placed in my palm as if it had hit me on the head. I sat up straight and held the check in both hands, carefully examining the numbers on it. My good friend, Ashley Morgan, said, “You can’t take this money. If you take it, it’s a crack in your relationship with Mr. Wellington. You’ll never be together anymore. True love is the best of all worlds. Your pure love can’t be tainted with money.” Ashley’s voice kept coming over the headphones, pissing me off so much that my breasts hurt vaguely. I thought, “You are the crack and the stinking piece of shit in my relationship with Edward.” I simply removed my Bluetooth headset and turned it off. I sighed and pushed the check to Chloe, shaking my head, “I can’t do this, Mrs. Chloe Wellington.” Chloe got a little angry and took the check back. “You’ll regret it later.” I pressed the corner of the check and said meaningfully, “I’m pregnant with Edward’s baby.” Chloe’s face went gloomy, and she gasped, thinking I wanted to marry Edward because of it. I said, “Mrs. Chloe Wellington, an abortion is quite an expense and physically damaging, even to my spirit…” “I’ll give you 100 million dollars,” interrupted Chloe, sensing what I was thinking. “Deal,” I agreed and took the check back from Chloe. Now, that was right. She had to treat everyone the same. Why did she give Ashley 100 million dollars and only give me 50 million dollars? I went straight from the restaurant to the bank to transfer the money. When I had time, I was going to learn about money management and then deal with them.

All afternoon, I was so excited I wanted to scream. I admitted that I was a woman who loved money. The heat was cool on the cab ride back, and the driver was friendly enough to keep me entertained. In my last life, I told Ashley that Chloe wanted to see me and asked her to advise me. She told me to put on my Bluetooth headset and do everything she told me. When she heard that Chloe wanted to offer me 50 million dollars in exchange for leaving Edward, Ashley was instantly angry and anxious. She said, “True love is what persists under worldly pressures and through all the trials and tribulations. Megan, these are the tests of your love. “You can’t take this money. If you take it, it’s a crack in your relationship with Mr. Wellington. You’ll never be together anymore. True love is the best of all worlds. Your pure love can’t be tainted with money. “Be strong and courageous. Do not be looked down upon.” So, I believed her. I didn’t ask for money and just wanted Edward to be true to me. It wasn’t until Edward proposed a breakup that I realized I was just a stand-in for his dead first love. Coincidentally, Ashley also looked like me, so the two of them had been together behind my back for a long time. Edward said, “You’re conservative and boring. In bed, you’re simply not as interesting as Ashley. “I’m the president of the Wellington Group, but I waste a lot of my time kissing you every day by coaxing and tricking you. “I’ve had enough. I don’t want to keep coaxing you, and I don’t want to keep hiding with Ashley. I’m going to give her an identity.” In the end, I had nothing left and got breast cancer from anger. Ashley had persuaded me to be pure in the first place, but she took 100 million dollars from Chloe and world-traveled while in a relationship. I waited until she returned home and met her in her luxury house, but she threw red wine in my face. She tapped my forehead with her fingertips and looked at me like I was a clown. Ashley said, “You’re such a dumbass. I stole your boyfriend and took the breakup fee that should have belonged to you. I’m afraid you’ll hold a grudge against me. How could I possibly save you? Go to hell.” Of course, I knew she had tricked me. But I had no other choice but to beg them. I had no father or mother and only knew them. In the end, I died of breast cancer in the basement. Perhaps God took pity on my ridiculous and pathetic life. Starting over again, I swore I’d never make the same mistake. The money would be mine, and I didn’t care about Edward anymore.

I joyfully got out of the car and saw Ashley, who was in a hurry at the entrance of the community, at once. Seeing me, Ashley quickly ran over to me, her eyes fixed on the distant cab. “How did you afford to take a cab? It costs two hundred dollars to get here from the center of the city. Did you take her money?” She took a deep breath, looking disappointed. I tried to put my smile away and said, “No, I just got startled and wanted to get home to you quickly.” Ashley’s expression got a little better, and she affectionately took my arm. She said, “Don’t mind if I nag you. Fifty million dollars is nothing. As long as you can stay with Mr. Wellington, you’ll have all the wealth of the Wellington family later. “You have to tell Edward and the Wellington family that you don’t want their wealth and that you really like Edward so that they won’t look down on you. “Otherwise, when you marry Edward, your life will not be easy, and they will bully you. So you have to refuse all those bags and jewelry that Mr. Wellington sends you. Understand?” Along the way, Ashley kept talking. I stopped abruptly and yanked her hand away. “Ashley, stop saying that.” She was stunned and looked at me helplessly. She had her mouth open but didn’t make any sound. I said, “My feelings for Edward and I are pure and sacred. I forbid you to talk about us like that.” Hearing that, she smiled, “That’s what I mean. It’s good that you understand.” “Ashley.” I said, staring into her eyes, “How come you never came back from the party yesterday when you said you were going to the bathroom? I’m surprised you didn’t come home at night either.” Ashley’s face instantly turned pale, and her expression stiffened. “I was drunk, so I slept at the hotel.” I continued, “Did you run into Edward? You guys almost left together. He said something came up at the company. But it was late by then.” Ashley licked her lip and rubbed her nose. “Probably a foreign client. You know how big his business is.” I chuckled, “That’s true.” Ashley took out her keys and ran away, saying she’d open the door. However, I saw her pat her chest and sigh in relief as she ran. It turned out they were already together at this time. I was such a dumbass in my previous life that I hadn’t suspected them at all. I was a bit angry. To prevent getting breast cancer, I took out my cell phone and tapped into the dialog box with Edward. I received his transfer of 100 thousand dollars from yesterday and messaged him: [I have picked out my birthday present. You can buy me the world’s limited edition pink Maserati.] Edward quickly replied: [Do you have a driving license?] In my opinion, it didn’t matter whether I had a driving license or not, as long as the car was expensive enough to keep me from getting angry. I replied: [Edward, how could you say that? You’re not acting like a president at all. Since I said I wanted it, you should just buy it for me. Why are you asking so many questions? Are you having another woman?] Edward replied to me after a long time: [I’m sorry. I was wrong. But I swear that you are my only woman.] I didn’t buy his words. He definitely went behind my back and got together with a lot of women who looked like his first love. However, in this life, I only needed money, and the rest was nothing.

On my birthday, Edward booked the fanciest hotel in Mountna and invited a bunch of his friends. Ashley arrived late, wearing a tight dress that showed off her figure and a fantastic emerald necklace. The necklace, which I had seen an actress wearing, was said to be worth more than 300 million dollars. The same night the actress wore it, it had been bought by a mysterious man. It turned out that the mysterious man was Edward. I held my forehead and smiled bitterly. In my previous life, they were so high-profile, but I hadn’t even suspected them. I was so stupid. Ashley stood fearfully in the doorway, looking over at me, waiting for me to beg her to take the empty seat next to Edward. My smiling face suddenly went cold, and I threw the Maserati keys away. “Edward, you disappoint me so much.” Seeing Edward’s dumbfounded face, I continued, “Ashley is a factory girl who earns two hundred dollars a month, but she wears a global limited edition dress and an emerald necklace worth 300 million dollars. “Look at me. I don’t have a single thing of value. Is this decent? Also, I can’t believe you only gave me a Maserati worth tens of millions of dollars for my birthday present. Are you abusing me?” Everyone around covered their mouths for fear of laughing out loud. Edward turned pale with embarrassment and said, “I thought you said you wouldn’t let me give you expensive gifts and that you wanted to have an equal relationship with me.” I said, “It was Ashley who told me I wasn’t allowed to spend a man’s money to save myself from being looked down upon and to be a person with a backbone.” I frowned and got up, walking towards Ashley, who was overwhelmed, “So where did you get all this? Did you win the lottery?” Ashley looked pale and glanced past me to Edward behind me, so anxious she was about to burst into tears. Edward pulled me back and whispered in my ear, “Those things could be fake. Don’t push her. She’s about to cry. Aren’t you guys good friends?” “Fake?” I raised my voice on purpose. “Don’t diss her. We have been friends for a long time. She certainly wouldn’t be vain enough to buy a fake. Am I right, Ashley?” Ashley met my gaze, tears instantly streaming down her face, her delicate makeup disappearing. Gazed upon by the teasing eyes around her, she was in a state of wretchedness at the moment. Ashley said, “They’re fake. I admit they’re fake. I just don’t want to be looked down upon by you guys. What’s wrong with me? You guys were born into rich families, so I can understand you not understanding me.” With that, she looked at me with teary eyes. “What about you? We’re the same kind of people. Do you not understand me? Or are you making a fool out of me on purpose?” I shook my glass. “Who’s the same kind of person as you? Can you find a handsome and rich boyfriend like Edward? I don’t think anyone would want you if you’re so ugly, right?” I coldly splashed the entire glass of red wine on her white dress. I said, “Yes, I did it on purpose. I can’t stand to see you being so hypocritical. Since you said the necklace is fake, I’ll transfer you 10 thousand dollars, and you give me the necklace. Otherwise, it’s real. I’ll find out exactly who sent it to you.” Ashley clenched her fists tightly and angrily removed the necklace before turning to leave. I continued, “Wait. You have to give me the ring and the earrings as well. They are a set.” Ashley cried as she took them off, and it hurt me to watch, let alone Edward. When he sat down again, he asked me in a low voice, “You’ve always had a good temper, but why are you so mad at her today?” I said, “I think she’s being a mistress. I can’t let her make more mistakes. Do you understand?” Seeing my good intentions, Edward patted my shoulder. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll go to the restroom first.” Watching his back as he left, I smiled because the fish finally took the bait.

After staying for a while, I made my excuses to leave as well. Hiding in the stairwell, I turned on my cell phone. On the phone, Edward had Ashley against the toilet wall, one hand controlling her hands, one hand stroking towards her body, and he was kissing Ashley’s tears over and over. “He’s a busy man,” I whispered mockingly. Ashley pressed Edward’s hand and questioned, “Who’s prettier, me or her? Do you like her or me better?” “You’re pretty. I only like you, baby.” Edward said calmly, “How can she be more interesting than you when she won’t let me have sex with her? Don’t worry. As soon as we have sex, I’m sure I’ll be responsible for you. I’m waiting for a chance to break up with her and give you an identity.” Ashley laughed out loud at his coaxing. I hissed, “That’s just men saying different things to different people.” An ambiguous moan came from my phone just as I finished speaking. My cheeks flushed at the sound, and I stood up abruptly. But my hands shook, and the phone smashed on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, but a big hand picked up the phone faster than me. The man’s eyes fell on the screen, and he smiled meaningfully. I recognized him. Just now, in the private room, his burning eyes made a deep impression on me. It was too normal for a rich man like Edward to have a few evil-minded friends, so I didn’t think much of it. However, I didn’t expect him to follow me. I stood on my tiptoes to grab the phone out of his hand, but I was pinned against the armrest. Surrounded by the unfamiliar smell of his body and listening to the ambiguous moans in the air, I blushed instantly. Suddenly, my cell phone rang. The man glanced at the phone, then connected it and handed it to my mouth. Edward said, “There’s something urgent at my company. You guys play first. I’ll have the driver take you back when you guys are done.” “Okay. Ah!” I then covered my mouth in panic and looked viciously at the man doing bad things in front of me. He actually took advantage of my distraction and lifted the shirt around my waist, followed by placing his palm on my waist.

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After years of helping the company prepare for its IPO, my girlfriend—finally ready to go public about our relationship—was about to make the announcement. But before she could, her ever-smug assistant, who’s never liked me, beat her to it. Stepping onto the stage, he wrapped his arm around her waist, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Didn’t you say we’d wait a few more years? Couldn’t hold out even for that long, huh?” he said, his tone thick with mockery. My girlfriend didn’t bother explaining. Instead, she handed him a document—the transfer of shares agreement—and announced to the room that he was the company’s newest shareholder. The crowd erupted in shock, with murmurs and whispers spreading like wildfire. The assistant, clearly basking in the attention, turned his smugness toward me, throwing out thinly veiled jabs. And my girlfriend? She didn’t stop him. In fact, her tone was cold as ice when she added: “You’ve done a lot for the company, but his talent is what we need to ensure a brighter future.” I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. Instead, I smiled, nodded, and graciously handed over my remaining shares to the assistant as well. “Let’s see,” I thought to myself, “how far they can take this company without its biggest investor.” And with that, I walked away.

When Emily announced on stage that Ryan had become the company’s newest shareholder, the room erupted in thunderous applause. I stood there frozen, my mind foggy from too many late nights of overtime. For a moment, I thought I had misheard her. “Look at Jake’s face—it’s priceless!””He’s been with the CEO for years and only got 2% of the shares. Ryan’s barely been here and snagged 20% just like that.””Jake’s always nitpicking Ryan’s work, but now? He looks like a total clown.” The crowd wasn’t even trying to be subtle with their laughter, making sure I could hear every word. They weren’t mocking me for fun—they were trying to curry favor with Ryan. And Emily? She didn’t even bother stopping them. Ryan shot me a smug grin, his voice dripping with fake innocence as he said, “Jake, no applause from you? Don’t tell me you’re upset about me getting shares.” He paused, a theatrical pout forming on his lips. “I mean, if we’re talking seniority, I guess you should’ve gotten them instead.” With that, he lazily extended the contract toward me, like he was handing me a consolation prize. But before I could react, Emily snatched the papers away and pushed them back into his hands with a playful yet firm gesture. “Ryan, you’re too kind,” she said with a soft laugh. “But the company values talent, not tenure.” Then, her gaze turned cold as it landed on me. “And you, Jake, don’t you dare make a scene. Let’s not forget the massive mistake you made last quarter, costing the company millions. The fact that I didn’t fire you outright was already generous. What right do you have to expect shares?” The two of them were perfectly in sync, like actors in a well-rehearsed play. I couldn’t help but find it amusing. That “mistake” she mentioned? It was Ryan’s fault. He panicked when things went south and pinned the blame on me. I’d tried to present evidence and explain the truth to Emily, but she didn’t believe me. She never did. I’d grown used to it by now. Over the years, Ryan had shown little talent but had poured all his energy into undermining me. Fresh out of college, he knew how to charm people with his words. He’d won over most of our colleagues, and even Emily thought he was harmless and honest. So, every time Ryan and I clashed, Emily always assumed I was at fault. And because of that, my coworkers had grown increasingly disrespectful toward me. Ryan’s voice interrupted my thoughts, still dripping with mock humility. “But I’m just worried Jake might feel bad.” As he spoke, he leaned closer to Emily, his head almost resting on her shoulder in an uncomfortably intimate gesture. Emily didn’t push him away. Instead, she shot me a sharp look. “Jake, wipe that sour look off your face!” she snapped. “I thought long and hard about this decision. Stop sulking and ruining everyone’s mood. If you can’t handle it, maybe you should just leave!” The room erupted in agreement, voices chiming in to back her up. I knew Emily was just venting her frustration, but I couldn’t help but laugh. The investors? I had brought them in after countless sleepless nights. The proposals? I had rewritten them over and over again. The IPO? It had only succeeded because of my efforts. And now, with the company finally going public, they wanted to cut me out entirely? They thought a few harsh words could erase all my hard work? I grabbed my bag and strode toward the stage. Ryan, clearly nervous, shrank behind Emily, his eyes wide with fear. Emily immediately stepped in front of him, shielding him like a mother bear protecting her cub. “Jake, what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice sharp with warning. I pulled a document from my bag and held it out to her. “I just think,” I said calmly, “that Ryan’s worked so hard, the shares you’ve given him aren’t enough.” I smiled faintly. “Take mine too. Let’s hope he can keep up the momentum.” Ryan’s eyes lit up as he stared at the document, practically salivating at the thought of owning more shares. Emily, however, looked at me with suspicion, her expression unreadable. The room fell silent as everyone tried to process what I had just done. They all knew how much I had sacrificed for the company. I’d been there since day one, building it from the ground up. I’d handled everything—from securing investments to juggling the smallest of tasks. Now that the IPO was a success, my shares were worth millions. Everyone had assumed I’d use this opportunity to negotiate for more. No one could have imagined I’d simply give them away. What they didn’t know was that Emily wasn’t just my boss—she was my fiancée. For years, she had insisted we keep our relationship a secret to avoid workplace gossip. But when Ryan showed up, I started to worry. I begged her to acknowledge our relationship, and after much pleading, she finally agreed to announce it on the day of the IPO. Last night, I was so excited I couldn’t even sleep. But when the moment came, Ryan stepped onto the stage first, wrapping his arm around her waist. And Emily… she didn’t stop him. She didn’t even seem uncomfortable. Everyone assumed they were a couple, and Emily didn’t bother correcting them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want our relationship to go public. She just didn’t want this relationship to go public. She remained silent, and I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked away. I had barely made it a few steps when I felt a warm hand grab my wrist. I turned, surprised to see that it was Emily. She had never stopped me before. She always let me leave, knowing I’d inevitably come back to apologize. But this time was different. She pressed her lips together and said, “Jake, you’re too impulsive. Ryan is calm and collected—everything you’re not.” “I didn’t want to cut you out, but after today, I don’t have a choice. These shares need to go to someone who can handle them responsibly.” I couldn’t help but laugh. This wasn’t about my “impulsiveness.” She was just trying to justify giving my shares to Ryan. In the past, I might’ve argued with her. But now, I just felt… nothing. “Okay,” I said simply. Emily blinked, clearly expecting me to put up more of a fight. Before she could say anything else, one of our coworkers called for a champagne toast. Emily shot me one last glance before turning away, the contract in her hand. I watched her walk toward Ryan, then turned and left the banquet hall. Outside, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Dad,” I said, my voice steady. “You were right. I’m ready to come back and take over the family business.”

My dad owns over a hundred companies and regularly ranks in the top twenty on Forbes. I’m the textbook definition of a trust fund kid. But when I first met Emily, I vividly remember her telling me about how, as a child, her father had been killed in a hit-and-run by some spoiled rich kid. The driver, protected by his family’s wealth and influence, avoided any real punishment and was out of jail within days. Ever since then, Emily has harbored a deep hatred for the wealthy. So, to be with her, I hid my background. I turned down every opportunity my family offered me, moved to a small city with her, and poured my entire savings into helping her start her business. Until yesterday, I naively believed that Emily and I had finally made it, that all our sacrifices had been worth it. But now, I realize just how badly I’ve lost. After hanging up the phone, I returned to the small apartment Emily and I shared. The room was decorated beautifully—warm and romantic. Heart-shaped candles lined the floor, and in the center was a bouquet of vibrant blue roses. Nestled within the roses was an elegant diamond ring. Beside it, there was the deed to a luxury house—the one I’d planned to surprise Emily with. I had imagined her reaction so many times, picturing the joy and love in her eyes. But now, none of that mattered. Emily would never even see it. I grabbed everything—the ring, the flowers, the deed—and tossed it all into the trash. Then, I booked a flight for the next evening. I needed one day to wrap up my work and hand everything over. “Ding.” My phone buzzed with a notification. It was a video from Ryan. In the clip, Ryan was carrying Emily bridal-style, her face flushed as she clung tightly to his neck, burying her face in his chest. They looked every bit the perfect couple. Around them, coworkers cheered and clapped, shouting for them to kiss. The video disappeared seconds later, deleted. Then, a message popped up. “Oops, sorry, sent that by mistake.” Of course, I didn’t believe him. Ryan had always been deliberate with his moves. This was just another one of his games. Over the past few years, he’d pulled stunts like this countless times. Normally, I’d lose my temper, confront Emily, and end up being scolded by her. “Can you stop being so sensitive? Maybe focus more on work instead of this nonsense?” At first, I thought I was overthinking it. But one time, when Emily was sick and half-delirious, she called out Ryan’s name. That’s when I realized her heart was no longer with me. This time, I didn’t feel anything. I simply blocked Ryan without hesitation and deleted his contact. Not long after, my phone rang. It was Emily. “Jake, did you block Ryan?” she demanded the moment I picked up, her tone icy and accusatory. She didn’t care what Ryan had done—only that I had blocked him. “I did,” I replied flatly. “What’s wrong with you? He’s your coworker! How is he supposed to do his job now? He thinks he must have done something wrong and has been blaming himself, crying nonstop. Add him back and apologize!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you even know what he sent me?” There was silence on the other end, probably as she checked with Ryan. A few seconds later, she replied dismissively, “So what if he sent the wrong picture? It’s not a big deal.” Of course. When it came to Ryan, nothing was ever a big deal. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re right, it’s no big deal. Just like when he ‘accidentally’ sent the wrong pricing sheet to a client, and we lost millions because of it.” That incident had been catastrophic. Ryan had sent our bottom-line pricing to a partner, leading to multiple contract cancellations and negotiations. A week’s worth of hard work—and over a million dollars—went up in flames. Emily hadn’t cared then, either. The line went quiet for a moment. Clearly, she remembered the incident. Then I heard Ryan’s voice in the background, soft and hoarse. “Emily, Jake’s probably just upset about the shares you gave me today. I should apologize to him.” Emily’s tone immediately softened. “No need, Ryan. It wasn’t your fault. Let him cool off on his own.” And with that, she hung up. It was always like this. Whenever we argued, Emily would use the excuse that I needed to “calm down” to spend more time with Ryan instead. But this time, I didn’t feel angry. I calmly drafted my resignation letter and sent it to HR. 3The moment I hit send on the resignation email, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, as if a heavy weight had been lifted. Around 2 a.m., I was deep asleep when my phone buzzed with another call from Emily. “Pick me up. I’m still at the hotel from earlier,” she said. I could hear the lively background noise on her end—probably another one of her work events. Normally, I’d have jumped out of bed, thrown on some clothes, and rushed over to get her. But this time, I simply yawned, my voice calm and lazy. “Call a rideshare,” I said. “There are plenty around that area.” Emily paused, her tone shifting to suspicion. “Are you asleep?” “Yeah,” I replied, nonchalant. In the past, whenever Emily went out for work or networking, I’d stay up worrying about her safety, unable to sleep until she was home. But tonight, I slept like a baby. Even her call felt like an unwelcome disruption to my rest. She didn’t argue further. About half an hour later, she came home. I had just stepped out of the bathroom when we locked eyes in the hallway. “You’re up,” she said softly. “Make me some noodles. I’m starving.” Her tone was gentle, almost coaxing. I knew this was her way of extending an olive branch, trying to smooth things over. Whenever we fought, she’d lean into her vulnerability to reopen communication and bridge the gap. But that only worked because I loved her. Now that love was gone, ground down to nothing, and all I felt was irritation. “Cook for yourself,” I said flatly. “Or order something if you don’t know how.” I turned and headed toward the bedroom, but Emily stepped in front of me, blocking the door. That’s when I caught the faint scent of Ryan’s cologne lingering on her. “Jake, are you seriously still upset?” she asked, her tone a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “I’ve already explained this to you—everything I’m doing is for the company. Just because we’ve gone public doesn’t mean we can relax. If anything, now’s the time to focus even harder.” “Ryan may not be the most capable,” she continued, “but he’s got connections, he’s great at networking, and his family owns businesses we might collaborate with in the future. Giving him shares wasn’t about favoritism—it was about what’s best for the company.” I hadn’t expected her to justify herself like this. But it didn’t matter. Whether she believed her own excuses or not, I didn’t. “Mm-hmm,” I replied dismissively and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Emily must’ve been stunned because she stood outside for a moment before angrily kicking the door. “Fine! Act like this all you want, Jake! But don’t come crying to me later when you regret it!” The next morning, I came out of the bedroom to find Emily sitting on the couch, meticulously ironing a brand-new suit. When she saw me, she immediately jumped up, holding the suit out toward me. “Here, try this on,” she said cheerfully, practically shoving it into my hands. I recognized it instantly—it was a limited-edition Chanel suit. Not only was it outrageously expensive, but it was also notoriously hard to get. Social media was full of posts about how it was the perfect gift for a boyfriend. I’d even hinted to Emily once that I thought it looked amazing. After changing into the suit, I stepped out of the bedroom, feeling an unexpected tightness in my throat. I was about to say something, but Emily spoke first, her tone light and teasing. “You and Ryan are about the same size. It fits you perfectly, so it should look just as good on him.” She smiled as she reached out to carefully take the jacket off me. “Be careful not to wrinkle it,” she added. “I spent so much time getting it just right.” Then, she folded the suit back into its gift box, looking pleased with herself, and headed out the door with it. I knew she was doing this on purpose, punishing me for yesterday. But instead of feeling angry, all I felt was a sense of detachment. It was childish, after all. Later that morning, I got a call and made my way to the office to finalize my resignation. The moment I stepped into the building, I spotted Ryan sitting on my desk, surrounded by coworkers fawning over him like he was the star of the show. One of them walked up to me with a smug grin. “Jake, go grab some coffee for everyone.” “Why?” I asked, checking my watch. I wasn’t late. The coworker grinned wider. “Emily said whoever gets to the office last has to buy everyone coffee. And guess what? You’re the last one here.” “Don’t worry about it,” Ryan cut in, standing up and adjusting the suit jacket he was wearing—the same one Emily had taken that morning. “I wouldn’t want Jake running errands for everyone,” he said, his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I’ll go instead.” Of course, he made no move to leave. Right on cue, Emily walked out of her office. Her eyes flicked to Ryan’s suit, and for a split second, her expression faltered before she quickly recovered. She stepped forward, straightening his collar with a smile. “I knew it would look great on you,” she said warmly. The others erupted into cheers and laughter. Emily’s face flushed slightly as she glanced at me, clearly checking to see if I’d react with jealousy or anger. But I didn’t. My heart was like a still lake—calm, empty, and unaffected. Emily didn’t seem satisfied with my lack of response. Her tone turned cold as she said, “I already told everyone—whoever got here last needs to buy coffee. If you’re not going to cooperate, why are you even here?” A coworker pointed at me. “Jake was the last one in.” Emily smirked. “Go on, then. And if you don’t, I’ll fire you.” Apparently, she hadn’t seen my resignation email yet. I didn’t bother hiding it anymore. “I’m not here to work,” I said calmly. “I’m here to resign.” 4 The room fell silent. Some of my coworkers, the ones who still got along with me, couldn’t help but lean in and whisper. “Jake, are you sure about this? The boss just announced raises for everyone. Quitting now would be a terrible move.” “Yeah, didn’t you hear her tone? She was just joking earlier.” I stayed calm, my voice steady. “I’m not joking. I already submitted my resignation to HR yesterday.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of excitement in Ryan’s expression. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but when he saw Emily’s unreadable gaze, he swallowed his words and stayed quiet. Emily frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? Do you understand how much you’re giving up by walking away from this company right now?” Of course, I knew. I was giving up stress, manipulation, and the invisible chains that had kept me tied here for far too long. Ryan, ever the opportunist, put on his usual wounded act. “Jake, I get it. You’re still upset with me, right?” He sighed dramatically. “Maybe I should just leave instead. After all, you and Emily have worked together for so many years. It’d be a shame for you to go now.” As he spoke, he started heading for the door, glancing at Emily out of the corner of his eye, clearly waiting for her to stop him. I almost laughed out loud at how obvious he was. Sure enough, Emily fell for it—or pretended to. She grabbed his arm, her voice soft and affectionate. “This has nothing to do with you, Ryan. No one’s asking you to leave.” Ryan’s face lit up with smug satisfaction. Still, he wasn’t done with his performance. He sighed again, shaking his head as though he were making a huge sacrifice. “But Jake’s been with the company for so long. I’ll try to talk some sense into him.” He walked up to me, putting on a show for the audience. “Jake, come on,” he said, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. “Think it over. We’d all hate to see you go. Honestly, we’ve always thought of you as a good friend.” As he spoke, he patted my shoulder—harder than necessary. And then, when no one else was watching, he pinched me. Hard. The sharp pain shot through my shoulder. Without thinking, I kicked him square in the chest. Ryan fell to the ground, clutching his chest and gasping for air. Emily rushed over, kneeling beside him, her face full of concern and panic. I couldn’t help but think back to the time I’d worked so hard to close a deal that I drank myself into the hospital with stomach bleeding. She hadn’t cared half as much then. Emily shot to her feet, her face twisted with anger. She slapped me across the face. “Are you insane, Jake?” she yelled. “Ryan was just trying to help you, and you attacked him? What kind of person bullies their coworker like this?” At that moment, HR walked into the room, clearly on their way to discuss my resignation. Before they could even speak, Emily snapped, “Process his paperwork and get him out of here. Now.” She signed off on my resignation without hesitation, but she wasn’t done. As if to rub salt in the wound, she added, “This company is making hundreds of thousands in profits every day. Only an idiot would leave now.” Then she turned to Ryan, her tone softening again. “Don’t worry, Ryan. In a few months, you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted—houses, cars, anything. I’ll make sure of it.” The other coworkers chimed in, their excitement palpable. “Emily’s the best!” “Next month, whoever hits the top sales goals, I’ll buy them a house,” Emily declared confidently. Ryan’s eyes sparkled with greed, and the others cheered louder. Emily’s arrogance grew as she basked in their praise. “And as for certain people,” she said, casting a cold glance my way, “who think they can bully their coworkers and refuse to follow orders—I’ll make sure no company ever hires them again.” The room erupted into laughter and insults aimed at me, their voices growing more frenzied by the second. For a moment, I hesitated. Should I say something? Should I tell them what I knew? That morning, my dad had called to let me know something interesting. Turns out, the biggest investor in Emily’s company for the past two years was… him. When he heard I was planning to quit and return home to take over the family business, he decided to run a full background check on her company. The results weren’t good. He’d already decided to pull the investment, citing breach of contract. Not only that, but he was planning to sue for triple damages. I knew exactly how much weight my dad’s company carried in her investment portfolio. Once he pulled out, forget about buying houses and cars—keeping the company afloat for another month would be a miracle. I opened my mouth to say something but stopped. Emily mistook my silence for regret. She rolled her eyes and sneered. “Well? If you apologize to Ryan now, there’s still time to fix this.” “Otherwise—” Before she could finish, someone burst into the room. It was the head of finance, their face pale and anxious. “Emily, we’ve got a problem,” they said quickly. “Our biggest investor just sent a notice. They found serious discrepancies in our financial records and suspect fraud. Not only are they pulling out, but they’re also suing us for triple damages!” VIP part

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When I won an iPad at my company’s annual party, I was thrilled. As soon as I got home, I shared the news with my mom, grinning from ear to ear. The next day, my sister-in-law, Amanda, knocked on my bedroom door. “Hey, do you think you could give that iPad to your nephew, Ryan?” she asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ryan’s been needing one for school—online classes, assignments, you know. You don’t have kids, so you don’t really need it. Why not just give it to him?” I shook my head. “Sorry, Amanda, but I’m planning to use it myself.” That’s when the entire family decided to gang up on me. “You’re living here, eating here, and you can’t even give your nephew something you got for free?” “What a selfish, ungrateful leech!” “Don’t ever call me your brother again. Get out of this house!” So, I did. I packed my things, moved out, and left them to their drama. Funny thing is, after a while, they begged me to come back. “Listen, Emily,” Amanda began one evening, pulling me aside with an overly earnest look. “You know how hard your brother works, right? Ryan just started high school, and the pressure is insane. We can’t afford a tutor, and the iPad would help him keep up with online resources.” I hesitated. “But I was planning to use it too…” “For what?” she snapped, patting my hand like I was a child. “Watching YouTube? Scrolling through Instagram? You can do all that on your phone, can’t you?” She sighed dramatically. “Ryan’s at such a critical point in his education. As his aunt, shouldn’t you support him?” The iPad I’d won was the latest model, something I’d been eyeing for months but couldn’t justify buying because of its price. Now she wanted me to hand it over for free? Absolutely not. “You could always check out second-hand options,” I suggested. “You can get a decent tablet for much cheaper.” Amanda’s eyes widened in horror. “Second-hand? Are you serious? All the boys in Ryan’s class have the newest models. Do you want him to be the laughingstock of the school? Is that what you want?” Before I could respond, she sneered, “You’re trying to humiliate him, aren’t you?” I clenched my fists. “Then go buy him a new one!” She threw her hands up. “Why would I do that when you already have one? It’s such a waste!” Her tone shifted to mock sympathy. “You’re divorced now, Emily. No husband, no kids. When you’re old, you’ll need Ryan to take care of you. Shouldn’t you invest in his future?” I laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t need anyone.” And with that, I slammed the door in her face and went to work.

After my divorce, I moved back into my parents’ house. Between my job and the messy legal battle with my ex, I figured staying with family would give me some stability. Amanda wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement. She’d turned my old bedroom into a storage space and wasn’t happy about having to clear it out. As I started unpacking my things, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Do you really need to move everything back in? These boxes were just fine where they were. You hardly take up any space when you’re sleeping, so why not just leave them here?” Her logic was absurd. My room was already the smallest in the house, and with all her junk in there, I could barely move. Still, I bit my tongue and quietly cleared out the space. To smooth things over, I offered to pay $300 a month as a contribution to the household expenses. Amanda put on a fake smile. “Oh, there’s no need for that. You’re family.” When I insisted, she finally relented. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll take it. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you’re comfortable here. I’ll even cook your favorite meals!” That promise didn’t last long. Barely two months in, she started complaining at the dinner table. “Groceries are so expensive these days. And doing all this housework? My back is killing me.” One evening, while we were all watching TV, she stormed into the living room and started ranting about money. “Ryan needs to enroll in an extracurricular program, but we can’t afford it. And whose fault is that? Your brother barely makes enough to feed this family!” she yelled, glaring at him. “Do you know how long it’s been since I bought myself new clothes? I can’t believe I married someone so useless!” Before she could keep going, my brother slapped her across the face. The room went silent. Amanda froze for a second before bursting into tears, wailing so loudly it made the walls shake. “Enough!” my dad shouted, slamming his coffee cup onto the table. Amanda immediately stopped crying, staring at him in shock. “If you don’t like it here, you can leave,” he said coldly. Amanda opened her mouth to argue, but I quickly stepped in to diffuse the situation. “It’s okay, Amanda. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ll add another $100 to my monthly contribution. It’s not much, but I hope it helps.” That seemed to calm her down. She wiped her tears and nodded reluctantly. My dad, however, glared at me. “Ever since you came back, this family’s been in chaos. You couldn’t hold onto your marriage, and now you’re bringing your bad luck here. You’re nothing but a burden.” He’d never liked me. To him, I was just a daughter who’d failed to “marry well” and brought shame to the family by getting divorced. At the time, I thought he was right. I felt guilty for moving back in and tried to make up for it by keeping my head down and buying expensive gifts for everyone. But no matter how much I gave, they never treated me with kindness. My mom was the only one who showed me any warmth. The rest of them only spoke to me when they wanted something—like the time I paid for Ryan’s summer camp. Ironically, I’d moved back home to save money, but living there ended up costing me more than renting an apartment. Looking back, it’s clear that Amanda’s constant complaints about my brother’s income were just a smokescreen. In the end, I was the only one footing the bill for their luxuries.

After work, I decided not to head home right away. After the morning’s drama, I wasn’t ready to face Amanda. I called my mom to let her know I’d be late and told her not to wait for me for dinner. Growing up, my dad ran the house like a dictator. As my brother got older, he naturally took the position of second-in-command. I always thought my mom and I were on the same team. She was quiet, submissive, and rarely taken seriously. When my brother dropped out of middle school, I’d often come home from school to find him and my dad sprawled on the couch, watching TV or playing video games. The floor was always littered with cigarette butts, sunflower seeds, and trash. Meanwhile, my mom, with an apron tied around her waist and gloves on her hands, would be rushing around cleaning up after them. She’d sweep the floor, ask them to throw their trash into the bin, and then head back to the kitchen. But by the time she returned, the floor would be trashed all over again. I felt sorry for her and helped with the housework whenever I could. When my dad hit her, I’d step in to shield her, hoping to ease her suffering even a little. So, when I won the iPad, I only told her, trusting she’d keep it between us. I even posted about it on my private social media, carefully excluding any family members. But by the next morning, Amanda knew. When my mom called to check on me during lunch, I couldn’t hold back my frustration. “Mom, I told you not to say anything about the iPad! How does Amanda already know?” She hesitated, then stammered, “Well, uh… last night when you told me about it, I think she overheard us talking.” “And what, you just told her everything when she asked?” I snapped. “I didn’t mean to! She said Ryan needed it for school, so I… I just mentioned it.” I was so angry I couldn’t speak. After a pause, she added nervously, “Emily, if you don’t need it, why not let your nephew have it? Amanda may be a bit harsh, but Ryan’s education is important…” Ryan’s education? He was consistently at the bottom of his class and was always in trouble. Somehow, Amanda had convinced herself that an iPad was the magical solution to his academic failures. I ended the call, not wanting to hear more excuses. When I finally got home that evening, the house was unusually quiet. Normally, this was the time of night when Ryan would be glued to the couch, refusing to go to bed. Amanda would yell at him, and the two of them would argue until the entire house was in chaos. But tonight, only my parents were in the living room. My brother and his family were nowhere to be seen. I went to my room and decided it was time to sell the iPad. Things had been tight financially lately, and I’d been debating whether to keep it or sell it for cash. After Amanda’s stunt, the decision was easy—selling it was the way to go. I opened my desk drawer to grab it… but it was gone. The desk had a lock, but I’d lost the key years ago. I figured it was safe enough to leave the iPad there—after all, I was living in my own home. But now, it had vanished. I immediately knew who was responsible. Ever since moving back in, I’d noticed my things going missing—half-used skincare products, makeup I rarely wore, clothes I didn’t touch, snacks I’d bought for myself. None of it was expensive, so I’d let it slide. But this? Stealing the iPad crossed the line. Fuming, I stormed into Amanda’s room without knocking. She and Ryan were lounging on the bed, and the moment she saw me, she instinctively pushed something down onto the mattress. It was too late. I’d already seen it. “Don’t you knock?” Amanda snapped, trying to go on the offensive. “When have you ever knocked before coming into my room?” I shot back. Her face twisted in indignation. “Watch your tone! Don’t forget whose house you’re living in!” “‘Whose house’? This is my house!” I shouted. “And while we’re at it, stop taking my things. Give me back the iPad!” Amanda’s laugh was cold and mocking. “Your house? What a joke. No wonder your husband left you. Married for three years and you couldn’t even have a kid!” I froze, stunned by the cruelty of her words. She didn’t stop there. “Women like you—useless and barren—don’t deserve a place in any family. You’re lucky we even let you stay here!” The sheer audacity of her words made me laugh bitterly. I shook my head, regaining some composure. “I don’t have time for this. Just give me the iPad.” She glanced at the device on the bed, then sneered. “How do you know it’s yours? I just bought this today.” “Bought it?” I said, smirking. “Every iPad has a serial number. I took a photo of mine the day I got it. Let’s see if it matches.” I pulled out my phone and started dialing. “I’ll let the police sort this out.” Amanda panicked. She lunged at me, trying to grab my phone, and in the scuffle, it fell to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. “Call the cops, huh? Go ahead!” she screamed, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “I’ll beat you to death before they even get here!” The rage boiling inside me gave me strength. I shoved her off me, and she stumbled back, falling against the bed. Ryan jumped up, pointing a finger in my face. “How dare you touch my mom!” At fourteen, he was already tall and broad—a physical match for me. Despite everything I’d done for him, he now looked at me with pure hatred. I braced myself as he raised his fist, but before he could take a swing, my parents rushed into the room. “Are you all trying to destroy this house?!” my dad bellowed. Amanda, still shaken, ran to my parents, sobbing dramatically. “Look what your daughter did to me!” she wailed. “She attacked me and threatened to call the police! She’s out of control!” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but before I could get a word out, my dad slapped me across the face. The force of it left me stunned, my cheek burning as tears blurred my vision. “Do you do anything besides disgrace this family?” he growled. “If you cause one more problem, you’re out of this house for good.”

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Clara decided to have a baby for Ryan, her childhood best friend who was battling kidney failure. They were constantly on edge, expecting me to show up and ruin their plan. On the day of delivery, they even hired a team of high-priced bodyguards to guard the hospital. But I stayed away, much to their relief. Thinking I’d finally learned my place, they celebrated with their newborn in hand, smiling and saying, “At least he knows when to back off. It would’ve been so embarrassing if he’d tried to cause a scene.” Even Clara chimed in, sneering, “If he behaves, I might even let the kid call him Dad one day.” What they didn’t know was that I no longer cared. As I ran my fingers over the patch on my uniform for the International Extreme Rescue Team, I felt nothing but peace. In a few days, I would leave the country and join the rescue unit. This time, I would leave them behind for good. After Clara gave birth, her parents, David and Margaret, spared no expense in booking her into a luxurious postnatal care center. She stayed there until fully recovered, only returning home a month later. During that time, I completed my pre-departure training and finalized all the paperwork. One night, I lay in bed, ready to enjoy a good night’s sleep. But then I heard voices outside the door. “Oh, look at that little nose. It’s just like Clara’s!” Margaret exclaimed, “And those eyes? Definitely Ryan’s.” “Such a perfect blend. You did amazing, Clara,” David praised. “It’s nothing,” Clara replied sweetly. “I’m just happy I could give Ryan this child.” They entered the house, beaming like one big happy family. Clara, her parents, and Ryan all gathered around the baby, passing him between them like a treasure on the sofa. “This baby had to come from Clara and Ryan,” Margaret declared. “A handsome man and a beautiful woman. It’s the perfect combination!” “Exactly,” David agreed. “Imagine if Clara had had Luke’s child. It would’ve been a disaster! Dark, ugly, and stubborn as a mule.” I walked out of the bedroom just as David finished his sentence. The laughter died instantly. They stared at me like I was a ghost. “Luke!” Clara gasped. “What are you doing here?” “Why didn’t you make a sound? You scared us!” Margaret scolded, clutching her chest. I scanned their faces, their expressions a twisted mix of guilt and irritation. These were the same people who once took pride in having me as their son-in-law. Clara and I first met at a blind date, the kind set up by well-meaning relatives who thought they knew best. It was traditional, yes, but surprisingly full of promise. From the moment we sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. From hobbies to life goals, we found common ground in everything, as if fate itself had been weaving a thread to connect us. Clara’s parents were equally enthusiastic. They expressed deep admiration for my career. Margaret often told me how she’d boast about me to friends and relatives, her face lighting up with pride whenever she spoke my name. To Clara, I was more than a partner. I was a man of integrity, a protector who gave her a sense of security she’d never known before. Back then, I truly believed it all. But now, as they sat on the couch, huddled together like a perfect little family, I realized I no longer belonged. “Well, since you’re here, I’m sure you already know the situation. You’ve stayed out of it so far, so I take it you’re in agreement.” David cleared his throat, adopting the tone of a patriarch. He glanced around the room, signaling the others to support his conclusion. I chuckled dryly but didn’t bother to respond. Clara bristled at my reaction. “Luke, what are you laughing at? Do you have a problem with this?” she snapped. “You’re so selfish! Ryan has kidney failure. After everything he’s done for us, giving him a child is the least I could do. It’s only right!” Ryan coughed weakly on cue, gripping Clara’s arm for support. “Clara, please don’t upset yourself because of me,” he murmured, his voice trembling with feigned exhaustion. “Your health is what’s most important.” His performance was flawless, eliciting immediate sympathy from everyone in the room. But I saw through it. There was no sign of the desperation or fatigue of someone battling a terminal illness. Clara, draped in the soft glow of new motherhood, leaned against Ryan’s shoulder. Her voice took on a sharp edge as she glared at me. “Look how considerate Ryan is. Why can’t you learn from him?” Margaret stepped in to play the peacemaker. “Luke, you’re always so busy with work. You’re never home, always off somewhere. Clara is our only daughter, and this family needs a man around.” She gestured to Ryan. “Ryan has always been here for us. He grew up with Clara, and we’ve treated him like our own son. Now that he’s sick, how could we not help him?” Her words dripped with irony. Since when did their “son” have a child with their daughter? Their dynamic was painfully clear. They’d formed a cozy little loop, and I was the loose thread ruining their perfect picture. Ryan coughed again and offered an apology. “Luke, I understand why you’re upset. It’s my fault… I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.” The room filled with exasperation. They were all growing tired of my presence. Clara waved her hand dismissively, her tone sharp. “Ethan, we’ve said everything we can. Next week, we’re hosting a reception to introduce the baby to the family. Relatives and friends will all be there.” She fixed me with a pointed look. “If you’re smart enough, you’ll tell everyone the baby is yours. If you insist on making a scene, you’ll only embarrass yourself.” I did some quick calculations. Next week would be the day of my flight. By then, I’d be gone, fully committed to my new life as a member of the International Extreme Rescue Team. But before leaving, I could leave them with a memory they wouldn’t forget. I shrugged, keeping my face neutral. “Sure,” I said, my voice calm. “No problem.”

If I had decided to leave, then I should leave nothing behind. I began packing my belongings in silence. Every item I picked up carried with it memories of Clara and me, resting quietly in drawers and shelves like relics of a happy life. No, perhaps it was only I who thought we were happy. My eyes swept over the shared mementos, the carefully preserved gifts, and the movie tickets documenting each of our dates. Once, these things had warmed my heart, reminders of love and laughter. Now, they felt like shards of glass, cutting into me with each glance. Three months ago, on a cold, fateful night, I had returned home after weeks of international rescue work. Exhausted but excited, I’d been yearning for the warmth of home and Clara’s embrace. But when I opened the door, I saw another man lying in my bedroom. I knew him. It was Ryan Sullivan, Clara’s childhood best friend. My chest tightened, the betrayal threatening to suffocate me. And Clara’s pregnant belly was the final blow, a hammer striking with brutal finality. I didn’t need to ask. The child wasn’t mine. “Hey, Luke! You’re back!” Ryan had said, lounging in my pajamas like the rightful owner of the house. “Come in!” I was trembling with rage. My vision blurred as my reason gave way to fury. I lunged at him, fists clenched. Before I could land a blow, Clara intercepted me, her broom striking my back with surprising force. “Luke, what the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, shielding Ryan like a lioness protecting her cub. “If you dare lay a finger on him, you’ll regret it!” Her voice cracked with righteous indignation. “Ryan is sick! He has kidney failure. I had to give him a child. If you have something to say, say it to me!” My love for her shattered in that instant, scattering into irreparable fragments. David and Margaret had arrived soon after, turning the scene into a full-blown circus. David grabbed my arm, his face red with anger. “What’s wrong with you?! Can’t you see Clara’s pregnant? You come home and start a fight? You’re an embarrassment!” Margaret even burst into tears. “This is such a tragedy! Ethan, why can’t you be more understanding? Don’t you see how hard this is for Clara? You’re being so selfish!” They hurled accusations at me as if I were the one who had betrayed them. I stood there, alone against a tide of righteous hypocrisy, my heart hollow and dead. That was the moment I realized there was nothing left for me here. The next day, I signed the application for the international rescue team and threw myself into training. Now, back in the present, my thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Clara stood there, her gaze as cold as ever. “I see you’ve finally come around,” she said. “The baby’s just finished the postpartum period. Since this bedroom is where I’ve always stayed, I think Ryan should move in here. It’s only practical.” I looked into her eyes, searching for a trace of the woman I once loved. From the living room, David’s voice rang out, loud and commanding. “This house is under Clara’s name! She can decide who lives where. That’s her right!” The arrogance in his tone was almost laughable. I listened to their self-serving logic, my heart devoid of any fight. There was no point in arguing. I no longer cared enough to engage. I picked up my suitcase silently and headed toward the storage room. The storage room was dark and damp, the air thick with the scent of mildew. Surrounded by forgotten junk and broken things, I placed my suitcase in a corner and sat down on it. The silence of the room felt like a balm, a haven away from memories and heartbreak. Here, there were no shared moments, no echoes of laughter. Only darkness and quiet. I lit a cigarette, letting the smoke curl around me like a veil. Through the haze, fragments of happier times flickered before my eyes. From the living room, their laughter rang out, loud and carefree. “I’m going to get the baby a protective charm,” Margaret said. “What should we engrave on it?” “Why not ‘C&R’? It’s their child, after all!” David suggested, his tone light and approving. Clara chimed in, “I think we should engrave ‘Sullivan’. He’ll take Ryan’s last name.” I took a deep drag of my cigarette, the smoke burning my throat. I imagined exhaling all the pain and sorrow, pushing it out of my lungs in one long, bitter breath.

The confidentiality protocols of the International Rescue Team were like an invisible shackle, cutting me off from everything I once knew. As part of my final preparations to leave the country, I had one last task—to officially erase my existence from the national records. It was a declaration, a severance from my past life, including my name, my identity, and all the memories tied to Clara. The first rays of sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, cool and gentle on my face. I woke early, ready to take this final step. I stood for a moment in the house that had once been filled with warmth and laughter, a place I’d poured my heart into building. Then, without hesitation, I turned my back and walked out the door for the last time. At the registry office, I moved through the process methodically. The staff, efficient and detached, treated it as just another task on their list. I watched as they cut my ID into fragments. Oddly enough, I felt exhilarated. This wasn’t just a piece of paper disappearing. It was the end of a life I no longer wanted. With my identity officially erased, I wandered the bustling streets, searching for a way to say goodbye to the remnants of my old life. At a local market, vibrant and noisy, I decided to sell off the things I no longer needed. As I handed over an old jacket to a vendor, a familiar sight stopped me in my tracks. There she was, Clara, with Ryan by her side. They were shopping for baby supplies, their faces glowing with happiness. Trailing behind them were David and Margaret, laughing and chatting as if they were the perfect, harmonious family. “Having a baby comes with so many responsibilities,” Clara said, examining a stroller. “Ryan, you’re so thoughtful, bringing us all out for this shopping trip. Once we’re done, let’s renovate the house. I’ve never liked the current style.” I had bought that house with my savings before we were married. Every inch of it bore the weight of my sweat and tears. When we were married, I’d signed it over to Clara as a gesture of love. And now it was their cozy little nest, while I stood there as a stranger, unacknowledged and forgotten. They spotted me, their surprise quickly replaced by indifference. Clara approached, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Well, if it isn’t the busy man himself. Always disappearing early in the morning. Do you even remember you have a home?” Margaret added her disapproval, glancing at me with disdain. “You’re here for once, and you couldn’t even make breakfast? Clara’s recovering. You should be helping!” Ryan sidled up with a smug grin, his eyes daring me to react. His expression was a silent taunt. “Look at what I’ve taken from you.” I bit back my anger, swallowing the words threatening to spill out. It was impossible that Ryan was dying. If I said anything, I was sure they’d go a step further, perhaps asking me to donate a kidney to Ryan. But Clara’s next words pushed me to my limit. “Luke, you’ve been away for so long on that rescue mission. You must’ve made a decent amount. Give me some money. I need new clothes now that I’ve put on weight from the pregnancy.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Why don’t you ask the father of the child? Can’t Ryan afford it?” Ryan’s face fell, his eyes glistening as he played the victim. He lowered his head, feigning anguish. David and Margaret immediately leaped to his defense. “Luke, what’s wrong with you?! Ryan is sick! All his money goes to treatment. How dare you say such a thing?” “You’re so selfish!” Margaret cried. “We’re ashamed to have you as a son-in-law!” Their greed and hypocrisy filled me with nothing but disgust. I turned them down and left without another word. Deep down, I felt no need to justify myself anymore. The last few days before my departure, I moved into a nearby rental. It was a cheap, cramped space, but it was peaceful, a place where I could exist without being haunted by them. At this moment, I was no longer the fool who had been blinded by love. Clara loved Ryan and wanted to play happy families with him. Let them have their picture-perfect life.

I stayed at the rented hotel until the day of the family banquet. No one came to bother me during this time. They were too busy basking in the joy of the new baby, completely ignoring my existence. I didn’t mind. I welcomed the quiet. The banquet was held at one of the city’s most luxurious hotels, far grander than my modest yet heartfelt wedding years ago. To call it a celebration for the baby was an understatement. It resembled an elaborate engagement party for Clara and Ryan. They stood in the lavishly decorated hall, Clara in her custom gown and Ryan in his tailored suit, looking like a fairy-tale prince and princess. Their perfect image burned my eyes. Finally, I mustered the resolve to go. Pushing open the grand doors, I was greeted by dazzling lights and a cacophony of voices. I stepped inside, feeling utterly out of place, like an uninvited guest crashing a dream I no longer belonged to. Clara’s face darkened the moment she saw me. She strode over, her voice sharp and scolding, completely disregarding the onlookers. “What are you wearing?!” she snapped. “This shabby outfit? You couldn’t even put on a suit? Are you trying to embarrass me in front of everyone? “All my relatives are here, and this is what you do to me? Just you wait!” Her words dripped with disdain, as though my presence alone desecrated her perfect day. The murmurs from the crowd grew louder. Relatives glanced between me and the baby, who didn’t look like me at all, their whispers buzzing with speculation. Everyone here knew Clara and Ryan’s childhood bond. The scene before them was enough to stir a storm of judgmental stares and disapproving whispers. Clara took the stage, her voice calm but brimming with pride. “Thank you all for coming today,” she began, addressing the audience. “We’re here to celebrate the arrival of a new member of our family. Becoming a mother was unexpected, but… “It brings me great happiness. I…” I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my composure. But as Clara and Ryan continued their intimate display, my patience snapped. I strode to the stage, grabbing the microphone. The chatter in the room died instantly, all eyes turning toward me. “Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, my voice steady and unwavering. “I want to clarify something. This child is not mine. “And for those of you who don’t know, Ryan Sullivan here claimed to have kidney failure, a tragic excuse to have Clara give him a child. I’m sure you can tell what’s really going on here. “I refuse to play the fool, and I’m done being cheated on constantly. From this moment on, I sever all ties with Clara Bennett and her family. We are done.” The room erupted in chaos. Gasps of shock, murmured gossip, and even outright shouts filled the air. Clara and Ryan’s faces turned ashen, their carefully curated facade crumbling. They didn’t expect me to expose their affair in front of everyone. David and Margaret surged forward, their fury written across their faces. “You bastard!” David bellowed. “You couldn’t wait to humiliate us? You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?! Clara is so unlucky to have married someone as selfish as you!” Ryan glared at me, his eyes filled with anger and frustration. Clara screeched, lunging for the microphone, but I sidestepped her effortlessly. But her desperation only fueled my resolve. I must tell everyone the truth, no matter what. David’s face reddened as he turned toward me. He raised his cane, swinging it toward me with all the strength he could muster. “I’ll kill you!” Just then, the grand doors of the banquet hall suddenly burst open. My team finally arrived. The leader, his voice calm but firm, announced, “I’d like to see anyone try to lay a hand on our captain!”

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A few days before the wedding, my half-brother had a depressive episode. To appease him, my fiancée cut up the wedding suit that my mother had handmade before she died, despite my pleas. She stared at me angrily and said, “Bryce has nothing left. Why did you provoke him with the wedding suit? Do you want to force him to die to be satisfied?” I looked at the mess all over the floor, my heart aching until it was numb. After packing everything up, I called my mentor, saying, “I would like to go to the three-year foreign exchange program you mentioned before.” After sending the wedding suit to the repair store, I returned home alone. However, standing in front of the door of the familiar villa, I couldn’t open it. I was stunned. Could it be that my fiancée, Nicole Phillips, changed the password? The next second, the door in front of me was pulled open. I looked up, but the person I saw was Bryce Kingsley. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing a bathrobe with water dripping from his hair. He stood in the doorway, greeting me like he was the master of the house. “Elliott, you’re back. Come in.” Bryce walked over to me and took my shoulder affectionately. “Sorry, Elliott. I forgot to tell you about changing the password. “Nicole was worried that I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself on my own, so she brought me back for a few days. But I was too stupid to remember the original password, so she changed it to my birthday.” I paused as I pushed Bryce away, feeling like my heart had been gripped by a large hand, painful. Two years ago, when I had been kicked out of my home by my father, Vincent Kingsley, Nicole had bought the villa and set the password to the day I’d been with her. She said at the time, “Elliott, it will be your new home from now on, just for you and me.” But today, she had forgotten that. “You ran out without drying your hair. What if you catch a cold?” Nicole scolded. Her words interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Nicole walking over with a towel, gently wiping Bryce’s hair. “Nicole, Elliott is still watching. It’s not appropriate.” Bryce looked at me and scrunched his neck, panic showing on his face. Nicole stiffened slightly and frowned impatiently when she met my gaze. “What are you standing here for? Hurry up inside and cook us dinner.” I took a deep breath and indifferently responded, “If you want to eat, cook for yourself.” However, just as I walked inside, Nicole blocked my way. She said, “Why are you acting like this? If it weren’t for the fact that you irritated Bryce with the wedding suit and forced him to have a depressive episode, I wouldn’t have taken him over to take care of him. What’s wrong with you cooking for him?” At this moment, the words “wedding suit” stuck into my heart like a needle, and my eyes instantly turned red. I asked, “Didn’t he sneak into my room and look at it himself? You ruined my wedding suit for him, and you want me to serve him now. On what grounds?” “On the grounds that you’re his older brother.” Nicole looked at me coldly. “Besides, it’s just a wedding suit. I can pay you back for one.” “What did you say?” I looked at Nicole incredulously, gritting my teeth. She clearly knew the significance of this wedding suit. It was not only a memory my mother, Brenda Kingsley, left me with but also a blessing for me and her. Seemingly realizing that she had said the wrong thing, Nicole opened her mouth to say something. However, Bryce rushed between us. “Elliott, don’t fight with Nicole because of me, okay? It’s all my fault. Why don’t you hit me, Elliott? Do whatever you want to me as long as you’re happy.” Bryce got more and more agitated as he talked, tears falling from his eyes. He even grabbed my hand and slapped it in his face. I muffled a grunt as my hand, injured from grabbing the scissors with Nicole this afternoon, oozed blood once again from Bryce’s grip. I was about to pull my hand back, but Nicole had already yanked me away with one hand. The force of her unexpected move caused me to stumble, and my back hit a shelf on the side, hurting me so much that I took a deep breath. Bryce said, “Nicole, my face hurts.” Nicole immediately tensed and cupped Bryce’s face, finally finding a tiny red mark by the corner of his mouth. The pain in my back hadn’t even faded when a burning pain came from my palm. It was only then that I realized the gauze on my right hand was completely red with blood. However, Nicole just glared at me viciously and turned around, pulling Bryce to put on the medicine. I stared at their backs and mocked myself with a smile. Once upon a time, the person Nicole cared most about was me, and the slightest injury to me would cause her heartache. But after Bryce was taken home, she didn’t care about me anymore. I closed my sore eyes and headed to the guest bedroom with my exhausted body.

After briefly treating the wound, I was so tired that I fell straight to sleep. The next day, I left the house early and went to the school to submit the materials for the foreign exchange program. My mentor, William Roberts, looked at me appreciatively after scrutinizing them. “Elliott, you really are the most suitable person for this program. That competition before is closing soon, so you can leave as soon as you finish it. When do you plan to leave?” After thinking about it, I calmly said, “Seven days later.” Seven days from now happened to be the day before my wedding to Nicole. William opened his mouth in some surprise. After glancing at my injured hand, he sighed and nodded his head to respect my decision. When I got home, Nicole was the only one home. She was leaning back on the couch somewhat impatiently, a brand-new wedding suit by her side. Seeing me, she loosened her furrowed brow and waved me over to her. Nicole said, “I was impulsive yesterday when I cut up your wedding suit. But I won’t delay our wedding. I bought this from the world’s most luxurious wedding suit store. Do you like it?” I knew Nicole was apologizing to me for yesterday. However, as I looked at the most luxurious wedding suit in front of me, pain slowly appeared in my heart. By now, she still thought I cared that I would not be able to hold the wedding if the wedding suit was gone. Seeing that I didn’t say anything, Nicole probably acquiesced that I had accepted her kindness, showing a smugness in her eyes. She continued, “You know Bryce has been in poor health and has delayed a lot of his academic process. I’ve heard that you have a competition coming to an end. Why don’t you change your name to Bryce? He needs it more than you do. You have the same teacher, so it’s not hard to change your name.” I looked over at Nicole in shock, realizing that she had done all of this for Bryce. My lips trembled as I said, “No way. All of this is the result of my hard work. Why should I let anyone else have them?” Nicole’s face grew somber as she heard my refusal. She said, “Elliott, I’m not negotiating with you. The investor in this project is me. If you disagree, I’ll withdraw my investment right away.” I clenched my hands so tightly that my fingernails sank into my flesh. Nicole had invested in my project for no reason in the first place to pave the way for Bryce, right? The thought that I was so happy over this matter that I stayed up the whole night at that time made me feel that I was too stupid. But now, even if I was not willing, I could not resist because this project was not just my efforts alone. Images of countless nights in the past where William had led me and the others through sleepless nights waiting for the results of a piece of data came to my mind. I unclenched my fists. “Okay.” Hearing that, Nicole sneered, “You should have obeyed like that a long time ago. Why did you have to let me threaten you into making things awkward?” With that, she directly left. I looked at Nicole’s leaving back, standing up numbly and starting to pack up everything related to Nicole. We had been together for twenty-two years, and Nicole had given me a lot of things except for these two years after Bryce’s return. All of these were now stacked in the small attic. Inside were various birthday and holiday gifts Nicole had given me from the time I was one to the time I was twenty. Among them was a jar of wishing stars that Nicole had hand-folded for me as a confession gift when I turned eighteen, and each star had a moving love message on the back. I rummaged further in and found a heavy photo album. After Brenda died, Nicole had worried that I was too upset and had taken me on a trip around the world, taking group photos at every place we went. Nicole had promised me while stuffing the photos. “I’ll travel the world with you.” When I came back to my senses, I realized that my face was wet with tears and that it was dark. At that moment, my cell phone vibrated, and it was Bryce who sent me a video. On the screen, Nicole was holding Bryce’s hand, watching fondly as he wished on a meteor shower. Immediately afterward, he sent me a message: [Elliott, it would have been great if you could have come. It’s a shame you can’t see such a beautiful meteor shower.] I clicked on his Instagram and saw the photo he posted a minute ago, with the caption: [She said even if she can’t get close to me, she will always be with me. I wish all lovers in the world a happy ending.] I wiped the tears from my eyes, then calmly liked it and went to the garden to burn everything.

Nicole had never returned in the days that followed. However, through Bryce’s Instagram, I knew about all their itineraries. They had gone to the mountains to watch the sunrise, to the beach to collect shells, to a wild open-air barbecue… I knew it was all sent out by Bryce for me to see. But I wasn’t angry or upset at all, and I focused on packing my bags. I didn’t stop until after there was no more of my stuff in this house. I looked at the calendar, and there were still four days left. Finally, I decided to say goodbye to my friends. At the dinner table, they were shocked when I finished talking about the foreign exchange program I was going to participate in. Quentin Fisher, my best friend, froze for a long time before saying, “Aren’t you and Nicole getting married soon? Why did you suddenly…” “It just suddenly dawned on me that she and I weren’t a good fit.” I closed my eyes without explaining too much. Quentin, however, violently hugged me and said, “Did Nicole bully you? I felt something was wrong when I first saw Nicole’s concern for that bastard. But I knew what she meant to you, so I thought I was overthinking it. If I’d known she’d put you through the wringer, I’d have broken up the marriage between you two.” With that, he added, “But it’s not too late now. Don’t worry. We will support you in whatever decision you make.” Hearing Quentin’s words, the others chimed in, patting me on the shoulder to comfort and encourage me. Sourness welled up in my heart, and I reddened my eyes, feeling touched. Ever since Nicole changed, I hadn’t felt such warmth, always digesting my grievances by myself. Perhaps because it had been too long since we had gotten together, we drank a lot, but we also talked freely and cheerfully. After a while, I got up to go to the bathroom. I didn’t expect to meet Bryce, who happened to come out of the box, on my way back. Bryce’s exaggeratedly shocked voice rang out. “Elliott, I didn’t expect to run into you even when Nicole threw me a celebration party. It’s too coincidental. Since you’re here, why don’t you join us?” My brain was a little slow from drinking, and I was already pulled into the box by Bryce by the time I reacted. After I appeared, the originally lively atmosphere instantly fell silent. I saw Nicole and many familiar faces. Nicole looked at me with displeasure. “Elliott, I said I would marry you, and I won’t go back on my word. I just haven’t been home in a couple of days. Do you have to follow me?” I felt uncomfortable with the stares of the people around me. “You misunderstood. I just came out for dinner with my friends and just happened to run into you guys. Besides, it wasn’t me who wanted to come in. He had to drag me in.” Seeing me pointing at Bryce, Nicole frowned. “Bryce just wants to share the joy with you. Why do you look reluctant?” Was Bryce sharing the joy of stealing my credit? How could Nicole say that? Sensing the stagnant atmosphere, one of them smiled, “Ms. Phillips, don’t pay too much attention to him. He has no self-awareness. Today is a celebration for Bryce. Let’s not ruin the fun for someone else.” Hearing him say that, Nicole eased her expression, and the others gathered around Bryce and Nicole. One man said, “Yes, I’d like to thank Ms. Phillips. Without your support, we wouldn’t have had the success of this project.” A woman added, “I want to thank Bryce. If it weren’t for you working day and night on the experiments, there’s no way we could have gotten so much valuable data.” Hearing their words, I froze in place. I had done those experiments and data with my own hands, and they all knew about it. But now, they calmly ignored me and bragged about Bryce. Seeing me lost in thought, Bryce looked over at me triumphantly and said silently, “You’re a clown.” I took a deep breath and tried to step forward. Nicole sensed something and glanced at me coldly, her eyes full of warning. She took a step in front of me and ordered me condescendingly, “Now that you’re here, aren’t you going to congratulate Bryce?” I stared into Nicole’s eyes and felt as hard and painful as if I had something stuck in my throat. I didn’t understand why Nicole was pushing me so relentlessly. After a long pause, just as Nicole was getting impatient, I chuckled, “Okay.”

I picked up my glass and turned to Bryce. “Congratulations. You’ve only been in the program for three days, and you’ve never even been to the lab, yet you’ve managed to lead the group to an award. You are truly gifted. “Thank you for pulling in Ms. Phillips’ investment. As expected, projects with more funding have a higher chance of winning the award.” Although they were words of congratulations, the expressions on everyone’s faces in the room turned awful all of a sudden. I finished the wine in my glass in one go, then smiled at Nicole, “Ms. Phillips, are you satisfied?” Without waiting for her answer, I put my glass on the table and turned to leave. I had just stepped out of the box when my tears fell uncontrollably. I held onto the wall and relaxed for a long time before I could suppress the grief in my heart. Following that, I took out my cell phone and sent a message to Quentin and the others: [Sorry. I have something to do, so I’ll go back first. Let’s get together again sometime afterward.] I didn’t want them to see me like this, which would only add to their worries. I walked out of the front door in a state of disorientation and realized that it had started raining at some point, feeling piercing cold. I looked at the lone shadow on the ground, and all my emotions came flooding back to me. No longer having the strength to support my body, I crouched helplessly on the ground and wrapped my arms around myself, crying loudly. Bryce had not only robbed me of the home I had lived in for eighteen years, but he had also robbed me of the new home Nicole had promised me. For a moment, I actually didn’t know where to stay. Suddenly, a person appeared in front of me. Nicole held an umbrella to protect me from the rain and looked at me with mixed emotions in her eyes. Nicole looked down at my messy appearance. “Elliott, I told you a long time ago. Even if you sacrifice as much as you can for others, they will only betray you for profit without hesitation.” I looked up at Nicole, who looked indifferent, then stood up and slapped the umbrella out of her hand. I yelled at her hysterically, “Who are you to say these things? Isn’t this all thanks to you? Nicole, who the hell are you to do this to me?” As if angered by me, Nicole’s tone suddenly went cold. “You owe it to Bryce. If you hadn’t let people isolate him in college and found someone to bully him, there’s no way he would have suffered from depression.” Hearing this reply, I was a bit dazed, then realized. No wonder she had suddenly changed her attitude towards me. How ridiculous it was! The trust of twenty-two years of living together could not withstand the words of a first-time acquaintance. Nicole hadn’t even thought to ask me for confirmation. My nerves that had been tensed broke, and my consciousness gradually became blurred. As I stumbled unsteadily, Nicole yanked me roughly. “Elliott, it’s not too late for you to start making it up to Bryce. As soon as he gets better, I’ll start over with you.” I smiled bitterly as my tears slid down with the rain before I passed out ultimately. Nicole, we wouldn’t get a chance to start over. I woke up, and it was the next morning. There was steaming milk on the table. I walked over to see a note from Nicole: [I’m going on a business trip for a few days. But don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the wedding day, and I definitely won’t miss it.] I looked at the trash can beside me and crumpled up the note, then threw it in, while walking to the kitchen to pour out the milk. Nicole had probably forgotten that I was lactose intolerant. The next few days were peaceful without Nicole and Bryce. Not only did I send the bags I had packed earlier overseas, but I also got someone to find out what had happened that year. I set up a timed e-mail, and all the evidence would be sent to Nicole’s mailbox at twelve on the day of the wedding. After I finished all this, it was already the day before the wedding. When I brought the flowers I bought and planned to visit Brenda at the cemetery, Nicole actually came home early. Seeing me going out, she frowned. “Where are you going?” I replied calmly, “I’m going to see my mom.” After freezing for a moment, Nicole didn’t say anything more and offered to go with me. I didn’t refuse in order to keep her from getting suspicious. However, Bryce called just as she pulled up to the entrance of the cemetery. Not knowing what Bryce had said, Nicole lost her intention to get out of the car. She refastened her seatbelt and said with a slight apology, “Remember to come home early and get ready for the wedding tomorrow. “I still have some things to do, so I won’t be back tonight. I’ll be waiting for you at the venue tomorrow.” The car left, and I mumbled in the direction Nicole left, “Nicole, I hope we never see each other again in this life.”

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My husband and I had been child-free by choice for 15 years when, out of nowhere, I received an anonymous multimedia message. The photo? It showed my husband escorting a young woman into a hospital—straight into the OB-GYN clinic. The text message that came with it read: “You’re old and washed up. What do you have to compete with me?” Fury surged through me, but it didn’t take long for my mind to clear. I let out a cold, dismissive laugh. An “old woman” may not have youth, but she’s got something better—more tricks up her sleeve and a heart that’s a hell of a lot more ruthless. On our 15th wedding anniversary, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Elliott, suggested we visit a church to “pray for peace and blessings.” Seeing the eager anticipation in her eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. I postponed an important work meeting and got into the car heading to Grace Chapel with her. As I was leaving, my husband Lucas gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. I’m really close to finishing my painting. I’ve got to ride this wave of inspiration to make sure it’s ready for your gallery opening in three months. Love you!” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in my chest. Ever since our second year of marriage, I had been adamant about remaining child-free. Lucas had respected my decision, and now, 15 years later, our relationship was still strong and full of love. Mrs. Elliott, despite being a traditional woman from a small town, had never scolded me for not having children. Instead, she would send me care packages every month—homemade jams, herbal supplements, and little reminders to take care of myself. Grace Chapel was known far and wide as a “miracle church” for those praying to conceive. Praying for peace? Please. This woman was clearly trying to pull one over on me. Honestly, I was starting to wonder if Lucas and Mrs. Elliott had caught wind of my secret and were using this trip as an excuse to get me to “bask in the blessings.” Inside the chapel, Mrs. Elliott knelt fervently on a prayer cushion in front of the altar, her lips moving rapidly as she whispered one heartfelt prayer after another. Her face was glowing with excitement, as if just kneeling there would miraculously make me pregnant. Seeing how happy she looked, I couldn’t help but smile. Resting my hand briefly on my flat stomach, I knelt beside her, clasped my hands together, and prayed silently: “Please, Lord, grant us a loving marriage and a happy family.” Just then, my phone buzzed in my purse. The sound was out of place in the sacred stillness of the chapel. I bowed my head apologetically toward the altar before stepping outside to check the message. What I saw made my blood run cold.

A text from an unknown number popped up, accompanied by a photo. The image? A man carrying a bag and carefully helping a young woman. The background clearly showed the entrance to the OB-GYN department of a hospital. Even without seeing his face, I recognized the profile and posture in an instant. This was Lucas—the man I had shared my life with for 15 years. Was he cheating? Or just helping? I desperately clung to the possibility of the latter, but the next text shattered any hope I had left. “You’re old and dried up. What could you possibly offer compared to me?” This message came with another photo—this time of a rounded baby bump, clearly five or six months along. I prided myself on being calm and composed in any situation, but this blatant provocation sent my anger straight to a boiling point. After taking a deep breath, I forced myself to think clearly. And then, it hit me. I laughed. How foolish of me to jump to conclusions. There was no way that child could be Lucas’s. I was certain of it. What was there to panic about? Composing myself, I headed back into the chapel to find Mrs. Elliott. She was grinning ear to ear, happily chatting with the pastor as she clutched a prayer slip in her hand. Not wanting to interrupt, I approached quietly, just in time to overhear her whispering: “Pastor, can the prayer tell us if the baby is a boy or a girl?” Her voice was soft but full of excitement. “I’ve been praying for this child for 15 years. I can’t believe it’s finally happening!” My heart skipped a beat. Did she know about my secret? For a moment, I considered stepping forward and telling her everything. But remembering my plan, I held back, retreating to hide behind a nearby statue. The pastor smiled warmly and reassured her, “Every child is a blessing, whether it’s a boy or a girl.” Mrs. Elliott clapped her hands together in delight. “I knew it! That young lady just has such a lucky aura about her. I’m sure her baby will be blessed as well!” Young lady? The image from the text suddenly flashed in my mind—the young woman with the rounded belly. My calm facade cracked slightly. When Mrs. Elliott finally left the chapel, looking as pleased as can be, I stayed behind to kneel before the altar. I bowed my head and prayed, “Thank you, Lord, for granting me clarity.” On the car ride home, I decided to test the waters. “Mom, what kind of prayer did you ask for today?” I asked with a casual smile. Mrs. Elliott beamed at me. “Oh, I know how much your career means to you, so I prayed for your success! Look, it’s a top-tier fortune!” She held up the slip of paper, which indeed contained a career blessing. If I hadn’t overheard her earlier, I might have been fooled by her act. But they truly believed that child was some divine gift, a token of gratitude from the heavens? They clearly didn’t know what kind of storm was coming for them.

When I got home, I headed straight for Lucas’s studio. Pushing the door open, I saw the painting he’d supposedly been “working on” was exactly the same as it had been the last time I checked. Not a single color mixed, not a single new stroke added. A bitter ache welled up in my chest—he couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the pretense anymore. How pathetic of me, falling for his sweet words and thinking he’d been working so hard in here every day. It was late when Lucas finally came home. He found me sitting in the study, busy with work. With his usual smug charm, he walked in holding a glass of milk. “Babe, you’ve been working so hard! Still at it this late?” He gave me an exaggeratedly sheepish smile. “I ran out of paint today, so I had to go out and pick some up. And guess what? I bumped into this legendary mentor who’s in town for a project. We got talking, and I completely lost track of time. Drink up and get some rest—you’re working too hard, and it makes me worry.” Any other day, I might’ve melted at his thoughtfulness. Sweet, considerate Lucas—always knowing how to smooth over my stress with just the right words. But tonight, all I could think about was the image of him helping that young woman—the way he held her arm so carefully. My heart felt like stone. As he leaned closer, I caught two distinct scents: the sterile tang of a hospital and the unmistakable aroma of durian—my favorite fruit. The combination was so nauseating I almost gagged. “You’ve had a long day too,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Go on to bed. I’ll take a quick shower and join you soon.” “Sure thing,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll just check in on Mom first.” With that, he headed toward Mrs. Elliott’s room. In the bathroom, I spotted the clothes Lucas had just changed out of and, almost without thinking, picked them up. My hand slipped into his pants pocket, where I felt the edge of a thin piece of paper. Pulling it out, I read: Private Women’s Clinic – OB/GYN Department Payment Receipt Patient: Natalie, 22 years old, 23 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Oh, how young she was. No wonder she felt bold enough to send me that provocative text. No wonder she’d left this receipt for Lucas to “accidentally” bring home. Young girls love recklessly, their emotions loud and unapologetic. She desperately wanted to prove she was more important than me, the “old, washed-up wife.” But what she didn’t know was that while I might not have her youth and energy, I make up for it with something stronger: sharper instincts and a much colder heart. She was bound to be disappointed.

I touched my flat stomach, weighing my options: should I play along and fight the girl head-on, or simply discard the man entirely? Just then, my phone buzzed again. Another picture. This time, it showed a table with three large durians. A hand—wearing the same wedding ring I had—was peeling a durian and placing the fruit onto a plate in front of the young woman. Neither of them showed their faces, but the intimacy of the moment, their shared warmth, practically radiated from the photo. Durian. My favorite fruit. But I hadn’t touched it in 15 years because Lucas couldn’t stand the smell. I gave it up for his sake. And now, here he was, not only tolerating it but personally peeling it for another woman. Fifteen years of compromise and sacrifice flashed before my eyes. All the times I had bent for love, while he had learned to adapt and care for someone else’s preferences with ease. The irony was almost laughable. Before I could fully process my emotions, Lucas came rushing back into the room, hurriedly changing his clothes. “Sorry, babe, I’ve got to head out.” “Something happened?” I asked coolly. “Yeah, that mentor I mentioned earlier—he got into a car accident. He’s all alone here, no family around, and he called me for help. I need to go check on him.” As he spoke, he even showed me his phone, the contact name clearly labeled as one of his male friends. But I caught a glimpse of the number. It was the same one that had sent me those anonymous texts. How sloppy. This pitifully bad lie was one of many he’d fed me over the years, but today, for the first time, I truly saw him. I waved him off nonchalantly. “Go on, then. Don’t keep him waiting.” As Lucas left, I couldn’t help but smirk. The girl was working overtime to prove how much Lucas cared for her, how much he loved her. She wanted nothing more than to flaunt her victory in my face. Well, if she wanted a fight, she’d get one. I’m Naomi. I’ve never begged for scraps of love. And now that I’ve seen Lucas for the fraud he is, it’s time to hit back. Hard. I pulled up a number on my phone and dialed. “Hey, remember that apartment you mentioned? Is it still available? I need a favor.”

For two days straight, I buried myself in crunching numbers, preparing an entire set of financial reports for Lucas’s gallery. At the same time, I had someone dig deep into Natalie’s background—every last detail. Lucas, on the other hand, hadn’t set foot at home during those two days. He called to say his “mentor” was in critical condition, and he had to stay at the hospital to take care of him. I didn’t argue. If it’s true love, then by all means, go ahead and stay. Two days later, Lucas finally came home. The first thing he did? He went straight to Mrs. Elliott’s room. I pulled out my phone and opened the hidden camera app, ready to listen in on their conversation. The video quality was excellent, and the sound was crystal clear. All thanks to my assistant. The moment we left the church that day, I’d called her. “Drop everything and buy a set of discreet hidden cameras. I want them installed in Lucas’s studio, Mrs. Elliott’s room, the living room, and the kitchen. The rest? Use your judgment.” My assistant, though surprised, had worked for me for five years. She knew better than to ask too many questions and executed the task flawlessly. By the time we got back home, everything was set up. I even spent a few minutes looking around and couldn’t spot a single one. Since then, I’d been checking the footage periodically. Mrs. Elliott had been busy, alright—rushing around nonstop, buying all sorts of supplies for her precious “grandchild.” Now, on the screen, I saw Mrs. Elliott’s face practically glowing with joy. “Well?” she asked eagerly. “How’s my darling grandbaby? Behaving, isn’t he?” Lucas beamed, looking every bit the doting father. “Of course! Almost six months along now. He’s growing perfectly. The doctor even complimented us the other day!” “Good, good, good!” Mrs. Elliott clapped her hands, her excitement bubbling over. “You left so quickly last time, I didn’t get a chance to tell you—did you know the pastor said my sweet grandson is destined to be lucky? A true blessing! But listen, you need to hurry up and get divorced. Don’t let my grandson be born into a mess!” “And you’ve got to stop staying out so much,” she added, lowering her voice. “That dead woman’s going to get suspicious.” Lucas sighed, exasperated. “I know, Mom! But she’s helping me organize a gallery showing in three months—all my work, with some of the biggest names in the industry attending. This is a huge opportunity for me, so I have to keep her happy until it’s over.” “My poor, hardworking son,” Mrs. Elliott cooed sympathetically. “But you’d better buy Natalie a house before the baby’s born. Don’t let her feel neglected. She’s just a kid, giving you a baby without even a proper title.” “I know, Mom,” Lucas grumbled. “But I can’t find the right excuse to ask Naomi for money.” “That dead woman’s got her claws locked tight around the cash,” Mrs. Elliott muttered. “Do you think she’ll leave you with nothing when you divorce?” Dead woman. It was the first time I’d heard how they talked about me behind closed doors. I knew, logically, these two were nothing but deceitful scum. But the pain in my chest came anyway, sharp and unrelenting. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of treating them like my closest family, only to find out they saw me as nothing more than an obstacle. “If she refuses to share, then don’t blame me for being ruthless,” Lucas snarled. “All these years, I’ve had to grovel, swallowing my pride and bending over backward for her. I’ve hated her for so long.” “She wanted to be child-free, so I went along with it—fifteen years without a kid. But if she won’t give me what I deserve, I’ll take it myself. And I won’t feel bad about it.” His face twisted with bitterness, his voice filled with venom. “Son! Don’t do anything illegal—” Mrs. Elliott started nervously. “Relax, Mom,” Lucas interrupted. “I still plan to enjoy my son’s blessings in the future.” At the mention of her “grandson,” Mrs. Elliott’s worry melted away, replaced by a proud, satisfied smile. “You clever boy,” she said with a laugh. My hands trembled as I gripped my phone, every muscle in my body tense. My nails dug into my palm, leaving half-moon marks as I exited the surveillance feed. I took a deep breath and dialed a number. “Hey,” I said, voice steady. “Is that apartment ready?”

After wrapping up a call with my best friend, Lucas walked into the bedroom. The moment he stepped in, he pulled me into his arms with a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, babe. That mentor of mine is just too important to me. I really had no choice but to stay with him at the hospital these past two days. But hey, let’s make up for it tonight—our 15th anniversary! Let your husband pamper you properly, okay?” As he spoke, he tried to scoop me up and carry me toward the bathroom. On any other day, this would’ve been part of our playful routine as a couple. But tonight? It made my skin crawl. I pushed him off, slipping out of his grasp, and sighed heavily. “Sorry, honey,” I said, feigning disappointment. “I was planning a surprise for you, but something came up at work, and it’s ruined now.” He looked puzzled. I explained further, lying smoothly: “I was going to buy you a house as a gift for our 15th anniversary. But with the company suddenly running into trouble, I had to pour all my money into fixing things.” For a moment, his face faltered—disappointment flickered in his expression before he quickly caught himself. With the skill of a seasoned actor, he switched back to his role as the devoted husband. “Hey, don’t worry about it, babe! I’ve been freeloading off you for 15 years—I don’t care about houses or cars. As long as you’re okay and the company’s doing well, that’s all that matters to me.” He paused, then added with mock concern, “If things are so bad at work, maybe I should ask Mom to chip in? She could loan you some of her retirement savings to help tide things over.” I immediately waved him off. “Absolutely not! That’s her retirement money—there’s no way I’d even think about touching it!” I sighed again, pretending to lament the missed opportunity. “Don’t worry about the company. I’ll figure it out. It’s just such a shame about that house. It was perfect—great location, newly renovated, and the design was exactly my style. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.” “Really? That good?” Lucas asked, his interest clearly piqued. “Absolutely,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “Here, let me show you.” I sent him the listing that my best friend had just forwarded to me—a three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with luxurious finishes. It had everything Lucas adored: large, statement-making artwork, tasteful decor, and a sleek, modern aesthetic. As he scrolled through the photos, I added with a wistful tone, “It’s such a steal, too. Just over $100,000! Apparently, the owner’s in financial trouble and can’t keep up with the mortgage. They’re selling it at a loss just to get rid of it quickly. Honestly, if it weren’t for my friend’s insider connections, I’d have never even known about it.” “Only $100,000?” Lucas’s eyes lit up, the bait sinking deeper. “Yup! My best friend would never lie to me. If you don’t believe me, you can call her yourself.” I forwarded my friend’s number to Lucas, watching as he stared at the contact on his screen, clearly deep in thought. Inwardly, I smiled. Hook, line, and sinker. Once you let go of emotions and see things for what they really are, your mind becomes sharper—clearer. But letting him fall for this trap wasn’t enough. Not yet. I adjusted my expression, hesitating for a moment before speaking again, my voice carefully measured. “Honey, there’s… something else I need to tell you. I’m not sure if it’s good news or bad news.”

“I’m pregnant.” As I rested my hand on my flat stomach, there was no joy in my heart. After 15 years, I finally conceived a child of my own. And yet, on the very day I planned to surprise my husband and family with the news, I discovered he already had another woman carrying his baby. The irony was suffocating. What were all those years of effort, pain, and sacrifice even worth now? “Really? That’s amazing!” Lucas stared at the test results in his hands, his face lit up with genuine excitement. There was no mistaking the joy in his eyes. I knew he loved the idea of having kids. He’d always wanted a child, enough to go behind my back and have another woman carry one for him. Then, as if realizing he might have overplayed his enthusiasm, he glanced at me nervously and began to backpedal: “I… I’m sorry, babe. I know you don’t want kids, and I shouldn’t have pushed this on you. That’s why you wanted to stay child-free, right? This is all on me—I should’ve been more careful. Look, it’s up to you. If you want the baby, we’ll keep it. If you don’t, then… we won’t.” Ah, there it was—the perfect “good husband” act. No wonder my friends and family had been singing his praises for the last 15 years. “Really?” I said coolly. “Then let’s not keep it.” His face froze for a moment, but I kept going. “Honestly, with everything going on at work, I don’t think I can handle a pregnancy right now. Things are spiraling out of control—if this continues, the company might go under, and I’ll be drowning in debt. I’m completely burned out as it is. Let’s just go to the clinic in a few days and take care of it.” “Wait, what? What’s going on with the company?” Of course. A selfish man like Lucas would always care more about his own interests than anything else. The moment I mentioned trouble at the company, the baby was no longer his priority. Feigning exhaustion, I explained the “dire situation” at work in painstaking detail, painting the picture of a business on the brink of collapse. While I was at it, I made sure to answer a few staged phone calls from “employees,” all of whom conveniently had bad news to share about the company’s operations. Each time I hung up, I let my frustration boil over in front of him, slamming the company’s accounting books onto the floor with a loud thud. Then, as if desperate, I started making calls to “borrow money,” loudly lamenting my financial troubles for Lucas to hear. Lucas, now visibly stressed, bent down to pick up the scattered papers from the accounting books. His face had darkened, and he looked deeply concerned. That night, for the first time in years, he stayed up late.

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When my boyfriend was hospitalized, I hurried to the hospital with a pot of soup, only to overhear a conversation between him and his friend. “Your first love is back. When are you planning to break up with the person who’s been taking her place? “After you guys break up, can I have a go? I haven’t had a woman like her before.” Maxwell didn’t rebut him as I expected but instead casually said, “Sure, she’s easy to get. Just sweet-talk her a bit, and you’ll have her in bed.” That night, I found a secret Twitter account, which recorded his years of lingering feelings for his first love. I didn’t confront him, didn’t make a scene. I calmly booked a flight to Peregrinia. Chapter On the day of our third anniversary, Maxwell Finch sprained his ankle by tripping down the stairs at work. I rushed to the hospital after getting his call. He explained he’d been in a hurry to meet me at the restaurant, worried I’d be waiting too long, and had missed a step. So, I took a few days off work to care for him, staying by his side in the hospital. On the day he was discharged, his good friend, George Martin, came to visit him, so I felt at ease and went home to make soup. I grabbed the warm thermos of freshly made chicken soup and rushed back to the hospital. As I approached the ward, the door was slightly ajar, and I overheard their conversation. George was patting him on the shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Eleanor’s back and you’re this happy? You even managed to trip on the stairs rushing to the airport to pick her up.” When I heard the name, Eleanor, my heart skipped a beat. Eleanor Dashwood had been Maxwell’s college friend and the only woman in their close-knit group of four. She was also Maxwell’s first love. They had dated for two years before parting ways when she moved abroad. Despite their breakup, they were still considered the perfect couple by their friends, and occasionally, the other two guys would joke about how Maxwell should have ended up with Eleanor, not me. In their eyes, if Eleanor hadn’t left, I would have never stood a chance as Maxwell’s girlfriend. He used to defend me when they joked like this. But this time, perhaps because I wasn’t around, Maxwell said nothing. George continued with his teasing, “Eleanor’s back. So, when are you going to kick out her replacement? “After you break up, can I date her? I’ve never been with a woman like her before.” Finally, Maxwell looked up, his brow furrowing, and smacked George playfully on the shoulder. “Eleanor hasn’t said anything yet, so why rush? “Plus, I’m not even fully recovered yet. I’ll still need her to take care of me at home.” At that moment, my ears seemed to ring. It felt like a heavy weight had settled over my senses, and the shock quickly gave way to a numb, dazed feeling. George didn’t seem bothered at all. He casually peeled an orange I had bought. “She seems so sweet, but you always tell me how wild she is in bed. “I really don’t get the contrast.” Though I was holding the warm thermos, it felt as if I had fallen into an icy abyss. I had never imagined that the boyfriend I had been with for three years could speak about me in such a degrading way behind my back. Maxwell’s voice rang out, cold and indifferent. “If you want to chase her, go ahead. She’s starved for attention and easy to get. “I just said a few sweet words to her back then, and that’s how we ended up in bed.” My breath caught in my throat. A deep, searing pain shot through my chest. I heard the two of them laughing softly in the room, and I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat. I quickly covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom, gagging and crying, the tears streaming down my face. It hit me then, after three years of loving him, I was nothing more than his first love’s substitute. I had thought maybe he didn’t care for me as much, but I never imagined the level of contempt he held for me. He didn’t just love me, and he didn’t even regard me as a human being. To him, I might as well have been the trash on the street. The fantasy I had built crumbled. I could barely comprehend that the man I had imagined spending my life with was so fundamentally flawed. Looking back, it made sense. Maxwell’s friends could joke openly in front of me about him and other women. How could they possibly respect me behind my back? Every time they came over, they treated me like a maid, ordering me around. And Maxwell’s failure to stop them from disrespecting me was essentially his approval. In front of me, he merely pretended to be decent. I wiped my tears away and threw the chicken soup, which I had spent hours making, into the trash. At that moment, breaking up with him had never seemed so clear. When I walked into the room, I had managed to pull myself together. Upon seeing me empty-handed, Maxwell’s face instantly darkened, his displeasure clear. “Didn’t you say you were going to make soup for me? Why did you come back empty-handed?” George, standing next to him, added, “Yeah, Adeline, Maxwell just told me how thoughtful you are.” With a sly grin, George leaned in and said, “Adeline, you might not even get the chance to cook soup for Maxwell anymore.” I instinctively looked at Maxwell, but he made no move to stop George’s comment. It dawned on me then. Perhaps, with Eleanor back, Maxwell wanted to get rid of me immediately. He wasn’t even pretending anymore, or maybe this was his way of giving me a little “punishment” for my defiance. Chapter

I remained silent, my eyes fixed on Maxwell. I couldn’t believe this was the man I had loved for three years. I used to think that even if Maxwell didn’t love me enough, as long as I loved him, it would be enough. I foolishly believed that, maybe one day, he would be moved by my devotion. But now, everything was mocking how naive I had been. “The soup I made today didn’t turn out great, so I drank it myself.” I smiled as I picked up the lightest bag and walked quickly out of the room, leaving first. “Come on, get your things, let’s go home.” I didn’t want to carry all of his luggage like a servant, which I had done every time before. The atmosphere on the way home was tense. Maxwell was still angry with me. But I wasn’t planning on soothing him. I needed time to calm my own emotions. As soon as we arrived home, Maxwell’s other good friend, Dorian Everhart, showed up. He came in, grinning, holding a cat in his arms. I had always been allergic to cat fur, and I instinctively recoiled, covering my nose. “Maxwell, didn’t you tell them I’m allergic to cats?!” Frowning, I kept my eyes on the Ragdoll cat in Dorian’s arms, not daring to relax for a second. When I was a child, I didn’t know I was allergic to cats. I once held a neighbor’s cat and ended up in the hospital for an entire week. “Adeline, why are you being so dramatic?” Maxwell hadn’t spoken yet, but Dorian was already rolling his eyes at me. “This is Eleanor’s Ragdoll cat. She brought it from abroad, it was really expensive. I begged for a while before she let me hold it for a few days.” “Adeline, don’t be so unreasonable.” Maxwell had been dissatisfied with my attitude for a while now, feeling embarrassed in front of his friends. Now, he finally had the chance to vent. His expression darkened terribly. “It’s just a cat. It’s not going to kill you.” He no longer even pretended to hide his disdain for me. He took the cat from Dorian and shoved it toward me. “Don’t be ridiculous. What’s the big deal with a cat?” Maxwell knew full well how severe my allergic reaction could be, yet he still treated me with such indifference. I tried to avoid the cat, but Maxwell kept pushing it closer. The cat, startled and in pain from being held too tightly, screeched and lunged toward me uncontrollably. Even though I reacted as quickly as I could, its claws scratched my neck, and I inhaled a mouthful of cat fur. Within half a minute, I began struggling to breathe. My heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out all over my body. “Call… call an ambulance…” Maxwell sneered. “Adeline, stop pretending.” Dorian noticed my face turning pale and spoke up, his voice urgent. “Maxwell, Adeline’s not faking it! We need to call 911!” As they hesitated, I collapsed heavily to the ground. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw Maxwell’s panicked face and heard Dorian and George scrambling to call an ambulance. When I woke up, I was alone in a dark hospital room. Because of their so-called “playful teasing”, I almost went into shock and was rushed to the hospital. And now, none of them were here with me. A nurse walked in, turned on the lights, and replaced the IV medication. “You’re extremely allergic to cat fur. You absolutely cannot be around cats again.” I gave a wry smile and asked, “Do you know when those three guys left?” “The three boys?” The nurse furrowed her brow, looking surprised. “They left once they saw you weren’t in danger. They didn’t stay.” She seemed incredulous. “Were they not just strangers to you?” I forced a smile. “One of them is my boyfriend. But not for long.” I checked my phone, and Maxwell’s message popped up on WhatsApp. [We went out for dinner. If you’re fine, just go home on your own.] George had posted on his Instagram twenty minutes earlier. [Reunion with old friends, so happy!] The picture showed the four of them, with Maxwell gazing lovingly at the girl beside him. Their eyes were full of affection, and Maxwell’s admiration for her was plain to see. Looking at that photo, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. The pain in my chest felt suffocating. At this point, I couldn’t deceive myself any longer. The one Maxwell truly loved was Eleanor. If Eleanor was willing to come back to him, I would lose all value to him. Chapter 

I suddenly remembered that Maxwell often typed on his Twitter page, but I had never seen him post anything. A thought surfaced in my mind, and I started looking for clues in his social media accounts. Maxwell’s Twitter was empty, but in the list of accounts he followed, I found one named “All for Eleanor”. My hands trembled as I clicked on it. I discovered that this account had been updated for six years, with thousands of posts. It was like opening Pandora’s box, and the contents inside left me speechless. Every single post was about Eleanor, filled with an uncontrollable love and obsession. The first posts chronicled their relationship, and the later ones showed Maxwell’s relentless thoughts of Eleanor, even years later. [November 9, 2021. I’m with someone else now. I won’t wait for you.] That day was one of the many times I had confessed my love to Maxwell. Eventually, he agreed to be with me. But now I realize it wasn’t because he was moved by my feelings; it was because that day, Eleanor had gone abroad. [March 10, 2022. I slept with someone else. You’re dating someone else. We’re even now.] I remembered that night well. Maxwell had been drunk, clinging to me, not letting me leave. In the end, he sweet-talked me into sleeping with him. [May 16, 2023. Are you really not coming back? I hate you. I’ll never forgive you!] That year, Maxwell had held me tightly and pulled a diamond ring out of his pocket, putting it on my finger. He looked at me with tender eyes and promised, “Adeline, I will marry you.” I took a deep breath but couldn’t summon the courage to read any further. I scrolled to the most recent post. [I lost to you in the end. After all these years, I still can’t let go. I will always love you.] The picture was of the two of them, smiling happily, hands tightly clasped together. Tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes, dripping onto the screen and blurring my vision. I felt stabbed by lies and betrayal, my heart bleeding. It dawned on me. Throughout the three years we’d been together, Maxwell’s love had never truly been mine. I finally understood that his love for Eleanor was intense and sincere, lasting for years. Maxwell had been willing to overcome every obstacle to be with Eleanor again. Even though she had abandoned him years ago, he still loved her without fail. But what about me? I shook, finally understanding everything. No wonder Maxwell never argued with me. It was because he never cared about our relationship in the first place. No wonder Maxwell never paid attention to my feelings. It was clear I didn’t matter to him. No wonder Maxwell had been so frantic when he fell down the stairs and broke his leg. It wasn’t because he was in a rush to see me but because Eleanor’s unexpected return had unsettled him. I forced myself to hold back the tears, taking screenshots of everything as evidence. I suddenly realized that maybe this was for the best. At least now, I wouldn’t be softhearted anymore. If I hadn’t accidentally overheard his comments behind my back, if I hadn’t found his secret Twitter account, I might have lived my whole life deceived, foolishly believing he had truly given up on his first love. I finally saw through Maxwell’s charming exterior, recognizing the darkness within. I understood now that all his love for me had been a lie. Now, I no longer had any reason to continue this relationship. At that moment, my boss, Jasper Blackwood, called. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “Adeline, there’s an opportunity to work at our Peregrinia branch. I wanted to ask if you’d be interested. You’d be stepping straight into a director’s position, and this opportunity is quite rare.” Jasper tried to persuade me earnestly. This wasn’t the first time a promotion had come my way. Last time, because I wanted to settle down with Maxwell in Eldoria, I firmly turned down the opportunity to work in Fendell, even though it had once been a dream I truly cherished. But now, there was nothing left worth giving up my dreams for. “Thank you for offering me this opportunity. I’m willing to take the position in Peregrinia.” My resolve to break up had never been stronger. My mind was desperately signaling for self-preservation. Even though my heart ached like it was being torn apart, I was willing to endure the pain. After hanging up, I immediately booked a flight to Peregrinia for a few days later. Once discharged from the hospital, I went straight home and packed up all my belongings. During this time, I didn’t run into Maxwell. I guessed he was still busy with Eleanor. The next day, while sitting in a taxi on my way to the airport, I saw Maxwell’s Twitter account had been updated the night before. [At our reunion, my heart couldn’t help but betray the longing within.] The picture showed him and Eleanor holding hands, fingers tightly intertwined. I calmly swiped past it, but the pain in my chest still lingered, faint yet sharp. Then Maxwell sent me a message. I guessed he must have noticed the changes at home. [You were discharged yesterday? Where are you?] I didn’t reply. He called me repeatedly, but I hung up each time. Finally, a minute before I boarded the plane, an unknown number called. I answered, and Maxwell’s anxious voice came through the phone. “Adeline, where have you gone? When are you coming home?” I smiled quietly, keeping my tone calm. “Maxwell, I know Eleanor is back. She’s the one you truly love, isn’t she?” I laughed bitterly, mercilessly exposing his scheme. “Now that she’s back, it’s only right that I, as her substitute, should step aside.” The announcement that the plane was about to take off came at just the right moment. I heard Maxwell gritting his teeth and shouting, “Adeline, where the hell are you?!”

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