Category: English

On the very first day of our honeymoon, I dragged my husband to a local photography studio to get some romantic couple portraits done. As the camera lens panned over him, the photographer casually asked, “Hey, how come you didn’t bring your girlfriend this time?” I was just about to raise my hand to show off my wedding ring when a familiar voice chimed in from behind us. “Marcus! What a coincidence seeing you guys vacationing here too.” The scowl that Marcus had been wearing all trip finally cracked, replaced by a warm, genuine smile. The girl shoved me aside, effortlessly taking my spot next to him. The photographer smoothly guided them through a series of cozy poses, and as they finished up, he smiled and said: “Congratulations! Wishing you two a happy honeymoon.” Marcus gently rustled the girl’s hair with pure affection and muttered a soft, “Thanks.” I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Just as I opened my mouth to clarify who the actual wife was, Marcus grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the studio. Right before we stepped out the door, my eyes locked onto the display wall he had been staring at earlier. In the framed photo, Marcus and Chloe were locked in a passionate, deep kiss. The timestamp on the photo was exactly one day before our wedding.

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Looking at Marcus now, every ounce of love I had felt for him evaporated. All the way back, Chloe and Marcus chatted and laughed, sharing inside jokes. I sat there like an invisible third wheel who couldn’t squeeze a word in. This man, who had been completely silent and cold to me, was now looking at another woman with eyes full of tenderness. I suddenly realized this marriage didn’t even need to begin. The moment we stepped into our hotel suite, Marcus threw his coat down and glared at me. “What was with that miserable face back there?” “You were the one who begged for this honeymoon. Now that we’re here, you’re throwing a tantrum and ruining the mood.” “Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?” I stared at him in utter disbelief, a bitter tightness squeezing my chest. When I was eighteen, the Franklin family empire went bankrupt. My parents essentially pawned me off to the Christians under the guise of an arranged alliance. The graduation trip my parents had promised me was canceled. Seeing how devastated I was back then, Marcus had wiped away my tears, promising he would take me on a trip every single year. The first year, Chloe got sick and was hospitalized, so we had to wait. The second year, Chloe took a bad fall after a breakup, and the plans fell through again. This year, Marcus finally agreed to take me. But as it turned out, he and Chloe had already been here, playing house as a happy couple. The suffocating silence in the room was crushing me. I just wanted a straight answer. “When did you and Chloe come here?” He shrugged casually, acting as if I was making a big deal out of nothing. “Chloe failed her job interview last month and cried all night. I brought her here to clear her head.” “To clear her head? Does clearing her head require mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” A long, heavy silence stretched between us. Then, Marcus snapped, his face flushing with anger. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.” “Chloe is like a sister to me. If there was actually anything going on between us, do you really think you’d be sitting here as my wife?” I let out a dry laugh. So, that was his truth. Chloe’s parents died saving Marcus’s life when they were kids. To make it up to her, his parents had initially set them up to be married. But then, Marcus claimed he fell in love with me at first sight. He used childish stunts like hunger strikes and running away from home to force his parents to agree to our match. When the Franklins went under, he finally got exactly what he wanted. “Let’s get a divorce.” His hands froze over the suitcase he was unpacking. He let out a scoff. “Just because I took Chloe on a trip to cheer her up, you’re throwing a fit and demanding a divorce?” “Catherine, when did you become so childish?” I said nothing, my heart aching in dull, heavy thuds. “Chloe has really sensitive skin and allergies. Go sleep in her room tonight so she can have this suite.” Seeing me stand still, he reached out and patted my head condescendingly. “You need to learn to be more generous.” My eyes welled up with uncontrollable tears. It was always like this. The jewelry she wanted, I had to give up. The designer dresses she wanted, I had to let her have. I had been yielding to her for seven long years. I sniffled, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ll give her the room. And you? I’m giving you to her too.” Hearing this, he pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. “It’s just a room! Stop turning everything into a federal case!” Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. The moment Chloe walked in, Marcus smoothly took her suitcase, opened it, and began unpacking her things one by one. That was when I noticed their toiletries were matching couple sets. She slid her room card into my palm, offering a sweet, innocent, yet apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Catherine. I booked my room so late, and the view isn’t great.” “I hate to make you suffer in that room… you don’t mind, right?” I suddenly felt a surge of petty amusement. “What if I said I do mind? Would you give me my suite back?” It was the first time in seven years I had ever said no to her. Chloe froze, her eyes instantly filling with tears. She began frantically stuffing her things back into her suitcase, acting as if she was being bullied. Marcus’s face darkened instantly. He grabbed my suitcase and hurled it out into the hallway. “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you.” The zipper on my suitcase burst, scattering my clothes all over the hallway floor. I sat slumped in the middle of the mess, looking absolutely pathetic and ridiculous. The heavy suite door slammed shut, cutting off my view of Marcus. The plastic room card in my hand felt like a burning coal. I laughed at myself, realizing for the very first time what a massive joke my life had become.

Instead of going to Chloe’s room, I went straight to the airport. On my phone, the wedding planner was blowing up my WhatsApp, asking me to confirm the final details for the ceremony. Before this trip, Marcus had held me close, promising he would give me the wedding of the century the moment we got back. I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting until my battery was down to one percent. Finally, I typed back: Change my name on everything to Chloe. I also bought the digital file of the photo I saw at the photography studio and sent it to them. Use this as the main welcome poster at the entrance. I figured Marcus would love my little wedding gift. Our trip was supposed to last a week, but by the time Marcus finally returned home, a whole two weeks had passed. He hadn’t even noticed that I left the honeymoon early, nor had he sent a single text to check on me. He tossed a luxury gift box onto my lap. “Chloe bought you this to apologize. It’s been weeks, Catherine. You should be over your little tantrum by now.” I looked at the box. It had a prominent ‘Gift with Purchase’ sticker on it, and the perfume sample inside was already more than half empty. He couldn’t even bother to pretend to care. I slowly stood up, pulled the pre-drafted divorce papers from my drawer, and slid them across the table. “Marcus, let’s get a divorce.” He glanced down at the papers, his brows knitting together in pure irritation. “Catherine, don’t you think you’re being incredibly dramatic?” “Your family literally threw you away and handed you to me like a piece of garbage. If you leave me, who else in New York would ever want you?” I snapped my head up to look at him. It was true—the moment the alliance with the Christians was finalized, my parents had kicked me out of the house. They called it “fostering a relationship” with my future husband. Looking at the man who had once promised to build a home with me, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. The love I had once been so proud of felt incredibly pathetic at this moment. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t find the words to argue. Because he was right. He slammed the door and left, telling me to use the night to clear my head. The next morning, when I arrived at the office, my colleagues were whispering and congratulating me, saying my promotion to Senior Project Manager was a done deal. But my blood ran cold when I opened the official announcement email and saw Chloe’s name listed as the new manager. I stormed into Marcus’s office with the printout, only to stop dead in my tracks. Chloe was leaning over Marcus, tenderly adjusting his tie. They looked like two high school sweethearts in the middle of a honeymoon phase. When Marcus saw me, his face immediately twisted into annoyance. “Knock before you come in. Even elementary school kids know that rule. Do I need to send you back to HR for basic etiquette training?” “You’ve been with this company for years, and you still have zero situational awareness.” Chloe, on the other hand, took a timid step back, looking like a frightened rabbit. “I’m so sorry, Catherine… I always do Marcus’s ties. I saw it was crooked and just reacted without thinking.” She quickly untied Marcus’s tie, shoved it into my hands, and ran out of the office crying. Once again, she made me look like the wicked witch who had ruined their pure love. Marcus’s voice boomed with anger. “You know Chloe has been depressed since she failed her job interview. It’s just one position, Catherine. Do you really have to fight her for everything?” This was different. I had pulled countless all-nighters and drafted dozens of proposals to earn this promotion. And with one casual sentence, he expected me to just hand it over. Watching him turn to leave, I called out, “Marcus, it’s either Chloe or me. Choose.” He paused for a fraction of a second, but didn’t turn back. He kept walking to chase after Chloe. I walked back to my desk. Looking at the cubicle where I had poured four years of my life, it felt utterly alien. That afternoon, the company-wide Snapchat group exploded. A coworker nudged my arm, sliding her phone in front of my face. “Catherine… is Mr. Christian actually your husband?”

Chloe had uploaded a photo of my marriage certificate with Marcus to the group chat. Her caption read: Wishing Catherine and Marcus a lifetime of happiness! My entire body went numb. The chat was scrolling at lightning speed with mockery and gossip from my coworkers. “I knew it! No wonder she landed all those major clients at her age. She was just riding her husband’s coattails!” “Please, her parents basically sold her. She’s been his live-in maid for seven years. Aside from a piece of paper, she has nothing.” “Did you see how Mr. Christian looks at Chloe? That’s real love right there. Catherine is just a placeholder.” The nasty, venomous words flooded my brain. My head felt like it was going to split open. I fled from my desk and slipped into the quiet stairwell to catch my breath. But as I walked down, I heard a soft, wet, gasping sound coming from the landing below. Chloe was whimpering, her shoulders trembling as her small hands weakly beat against Marcus’s chest. “Now everyone knows… you guys can be together openly now. She won’t have to ‘misunderstand’ us anymore.” “Are you happy now?” Marcus stared at her for a second, then leaned down to kiss the tears from her eyelids. “That’s enough.” “Don’t ever do that again without my permission.” Then, the heavy sound of kissing resumed. I don’t even remember how I dragged myself back to my office. When I walked in, Marcus was lounging on his leather sofa, looking thoroughly satisfied. I placed my physical resignation letter on his desk. His forehead creased with instant irritation, and he uncomfortably pulled up his collar. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” “Chloe didn’t mean to leak the certificate. She’s been crying in the restroom for an hour. I already lectured her about it.” We had been together for seven years, and he had never once publicly acknowledged my existence. The only couple photos we had were deleted by him because “it might negatively impact the company’s stock price.” I had lived like a shameful, hidden mistress for seven years. I stared at the fresh red mark on his collarbone and forced a hollow smile. So, that was his idea of a “lecture.” He stood up and reached out to wrap his arms around me. The thought of what they had just done in the dusty stairwell made my stomach violently churn. I lurched backward, dodging his touch, genuinely wondering how he did it. One second he was passionately making out with his foster sister, and the next, he could act like a doting fiancé to me. He casually tossed my resignation letter into the paper shredder, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m going to pretend I never saw this. As for the promotion, we’ll talk about it next time.” “Besides, given our legal status, it’s better if we keep a professional distance at work anyway.” It took me four grueling years to climb from an assistant to managing my own projects. How many more four-year periods did he expect me to wait? I waited year after year for a vacation. I waited year after year for a promotion. And with one word—”professionalism”—he wiped out every ounce of my hard work. But I was done waiting. I kept my voice completely professional. “If you want to keep your distance, my resignation actually solves all your problems.” He looked at me, a sudden wave of understanding washing over his face. “Ah, right. We’re already legally married, and the wedding ceremony is in two days. I make more than enough to support you anyway.” “My mother has been begging for grandkids. After the wedding, you can stay home and focus on getting pregnant.” I gave him a non-committal hum, waiting until he signed off on my exit paperwork before turning on my heel. As I reached the door, he called out, “Oh, and don’t forget—our parents are meeting in three days to finalize the wedding reception details. Don’t be late.” I didn’t answer. The moment I stepped out of the building, I booked a one-way ticket to London. A few days ago, I had received a job offer from a multinational firm over there. My future was waiting for me across the Atlantic.

Three days later, I still showed up to the dinner. An ugly beginning deserved a clean, dignified ending. When I arrived at the private dining room, it was completely empty. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus, and he immediately started yelling the moment I picked up. “Catherine! How old are you? Still playing games and showing up late? If you can’t even manage your time, how can I trust you with a manager position?” I opened the text notification on my phone. It was a new address. How hilarious. The venue had been changed, and I, the bride, was the last to know. When I finally arrived at the upscale restaurant, Chloe was sitting in my designated seat, making both sets of parents laugh hysterically with her sweet banter. The moment I walked in, the warm atmosphere turned ice-cold. Chloe immediately made a show of standing up to give me my seat, but Marcus’s mother grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. “Chloe, sweetie, stay right there.” She then turned her icy glare toward me. “If some people hadn’t used cheap, manipulative tricks, the title of Mrs. Christian would belong to Chloe right now.” “You’re in your twenties, yet you expect your elders to sit around and wait for you.” “You haven’t even officially moved into the Christian estate, and you’re already throwing your weight around like you own the place. Who do you think you are?” My parents sat there, offering nothing but awkward, tight smiles. Marcus shot me a warning glare, his eyes practically screaming threats. “On such an important day, you’re the only one who’s late. Aren’t you embarrassed?” I let out a long sigh, ignored the comments, and sat down at an empty seat. My heart was already dead. Looking at the table, every single dish was covered in heavy, spicy Mexican chili oil. Marcus picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of spicy meat, and put it on my plate. He leaned close to my ear. “Stop sulking. Everyone is watching. Smile.” Without a second thought, I scraped the meat directly into the trash bin. The smile on Marcus’s face froze. “I can’t eat spicy food.” My stomach had been ruined by stress ulcers over the years; spicy food was practically poison to my system. Years ago, when I had accidentally taken a bite of a spicy pepper, Marcus had panicked, rushing me to the ER for a full gastrointestinal scan. Since then, he had always personally checked every menu to make sure my food was bland. Chloe noticed my action and her face fell. “The elders are all sitting right here, Catherine. Who are you putting on this dramatic show for?” Marcus looked at Chloe, then back at me. He stabbed another piece of spicy food, his voice dropping to a cold, commanding whisper. “Eat it. Behave.” I set my fork down with a quiet clack. “Enjoy your dinner.” “I only came here to say one thing: I won’t be attending the wedding. Marcus and I are completely over.” With that, I stood up and walked out. Behind me, Marcus’s mother exploded into furious screeching, while my parents frantically rambled out awkward apologies. I drove straight back to my apartment, grabbed my pre-packed suitcases, and headed to the airport. Back at the restaurant, it took Marcus nearly an hour to soothe his mother’s anger, promising her that I would never act out like this again. But remembering the absolute finality in my eyes before I walked out, a sudden, cold dread crept into his chest. He pulled out his phone and shot me a text: Catherine, stop this childish nonsense. Come back and apologize right now. I didn’t reply. For the next few days, I didn’t send him a single text or call. He didn’t think much of it, assuming I was just experiencing cold feet and being shy before the big day. After all, I had chased him for seven years. He was convinced I could never survive without him. He figured this time would be no different. On the morning of the wedding, Marcus got up early, carefully grooming himself. He couldn’t wait to see me walk down the aisle. But the moment his car pulled up to the luxury hotel venue, his face went completely pale.

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I had just woken up from the anesthesia after my C-section. My husband gently placed a tiny baby girl in my arms. Suddenly, glowing lines of text flashed across my eyes like a live-stream chat. [Wait! That’s not your daughter. Your real daughter was swapped by your husband and Fiona Cross, the single pregnant mother you sponsored.] [They did it together.] [They put their own love child in your arms instead!] [They want their illegitimate daughter to replace yours and inherit the Montgomery family fortune!] [Your real daughter is right next to Fiona. She has a faint pink birthmark behind her left ear.] [In ten minutes, they will transfer her out of this hospital under the excuse of treating severe jaundice.] The blood in my veins turned to ice. In the next second, Fiona knocked and walked in. She smiled, looking innocent and harmless. “Mrs. Montgomery, my daughter has severe jaundice. She’s being transferred to another hospital in a few minutes. I wanted to come by and say goodbye.” The floating text in front of my eyes flashed rapidly. [Don’t let her leave!] [If she walks out that door, you will never find your daughter again.] I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. I forced a smile. “Jaundice? Let me take a look.”

The hospital room fell dead silent. Julian was the first to react. He sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his hand against my shoulder. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it was just enough to press down on my C-section wound, sending a sharp pain through me. “Chloe, you just woke up. Don’t move.” I stared at him. To the public, Julian Vance was the most respectable son-in-law of the Montgomery Medical Group. He was the man who would run out in the middle of the night to buy sour plums when I had morning sickness. He accompanied me to every single prenatal checkup. He told the media that marrying me was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. But the floating screen said otherwise. It was him. He had stolen our daughter and put his mistress’s baby in my arms. My chest choked with an unbearable ache. “I’m not moving too much,” I said, looking past him to Fiona. “She is a pregnant woman under my charity program. Since her baby has severe jaundice, it’s only natural for me, as her sponsor, to check on her. Is there something wrong with that?” Fiona’s grip on the baby bundle visibly tightened. “Mrs. Montgomery, the doctor said the baby shouldn’t be exposed to the cold wind. The transport ambulance is waiting downstairs.” “I heard jaundice is most obvious behind the ear. I’ll just check behind her ear. No need to unwrap her completely.” Her face turned pale. Julian tried to coax me in a gentle voice, “Chloe, Fiona has had a hard time. Her baby needs urgent care. Let’s not delay them.” “Will a five-second delay kill her?” I asked. His brows furrowed slightly. It was a silent warning. During our standoff, the nurse at the door walked in. Rachel. She was the one who had checked my wristband before my surgery. She wore a professional smile. “Mrs. Montgomery, the anesthesia hasn’t fully worn off yet. You might not be thinking clearly. The transfer paperwork for Fiona’s baby is already complete. The ambulance is waiting downstairs.” I looked at her. “What is her bilirubin level?” Rachel paused. “320.” “When was it tested?” “Twenty minutes ago.” “Where is the report?” Rachel’s smile stiffened. “It’s all logged in the electronic medical system.” A new comment floated across my eyes. [They just modified the numbers.] [The original record was only 176. It didn’t meet the emergency transfer criteria at all.] [They just want Fiona to take your daughter and make a quick escape before you find out.] My daughter was standing just a few steps away from me. Held by her biological father and another woman, about to be erased from my life forever. I forced myself to breathe steadily. “Since the jaundice is so severe, I’ll contact the head of the Neonatology Department at Crestview to check her personally. I’ll cover all the expenses.” Fiona raised her head instantly. “No need, Mrs. Montgomery. You’ve already helped me so much.” “I’m not asking for your permission.” I pressed the call button next to my bed and told the nurse aide who walked in: “Tell the head of Neonatology to come to my room. Also, before he arrives, Fiona and her baby are not allowed to leave this floor.” Rachel panicked. “Mrs. Montgomery, this goes against hospital protocol.” “I am one of the largest individual shareholders of Crestview Maternity Hospital.” I stared at her, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you really trying to talk to me about protocol?” Rachel’s face lost all color. Julian called out to me in a low voice, “Chloe.” I didn’t look at him. “Also, my own baby is not allowed to leave this room. Any checkups must be done right in front of me.” Fiona’s eyes welled with tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, is there some kind of misunderstanding? I just want to get medical care for my baby.” I stared at the bundle in her arms. “Then wait for the specialist to get here.” The floating text popped up again. [Step one: successful.] [But they have already altered the hospital system.] [They won’t let you see the birthmark that easily.]

The head of Neonatology didn’t show up. Instead, Dr. Thomas Sterling, the Vice President of the hospital, walked in. There was sweat on his forehead. Two nurses and an administrative director followed right behind him. Julian stood up and whispered a few words to him. Dr. Sterling’s gaze shifted to me, becoming instantly cautious and overly polite. “Mrs. Montgomery, congratulations on a successful delivery. Your health is the top priority right now. The hospital will handle everything else.” I asked, “Where is the department head?” “He is currently in surgery. But we can arrange phototherapy for the baby here.” “Then treat her in this hospital.” “According to the current records, Fiona’s baby has extremely high levels. We highly recommend transferring her to our partner clinic for observation.” I stared at him. “Crestview is the best private maternity hospital in the city. Are you telling me we can’t treat a simple case of newborn jaundice and have to send her away?” Julian walked over, leaning down to tuck my blanket in. “Chloe, you just had surgery. You shouldn’t be worrying about other people’s problems. I’ll handle Fiona’s arrangements.” I grabbed his wrist. “Did you sign the newborn birth confirmation?” His eyes flickered. “The hospital asked me to sign on your behalf.” “On whose behalf?” “I’m the baby’s father. It’s only natural for me to sign.” I looked at him and slowly let go of his wrist. “I wasn’t even awake yet, and you already signed to confirm the baby’s identity?” His perfect composure finally showed a crack. Dr. Sterling quickly intervened. “Mrs. Montgomery, it’s very common for family members to sign on behalf of the mother in clinical practice, especially since you were still recovering from anesthesia.” “Common doesn’t mean legal,” my voice went cold. “Bring me all the handover records, identity verification videos, and the umbilical cord blood storage codes from my delivery.” Rachel stood in the back, her fingers clutching her clipboard so hard they turned white. A comment floated by. [She’s panicking.] [She already swapped the ankle bands of the two babies and backdated the handover log.] [Don’t drink the water. Julian ordered a sedative to be added to it.] The moment I looked up, Julian was already holding the glass of water from the nightstand. “Drink some water first, Chloe. Your lips are dry.” I stared at the warm water. “You drink it.” His hand froze. “Chloe, what are you doing now?” “I said, you drink it.” Everyone in the room turned to look at him. The gentle mask on Julian’s face was about to shatter. “You shouldn’t be so paranoid after a C-section.” I laughed. “I’m paranoid? Then take a sip and prove me wrong.” He set the glass back down. “The doctor said you need to stay hydrated.” “Then have the nurse open a fresh, sealed bottle for me.” Rachel immediately chimed in, “The water in our ward is standardized. There’s nothing wrong with it.” I looked at her. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” She shut her mouth. Fiona stood by the door, cradling the baby as tears streamed down her face. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you are wealthy and powerful, and you look down on people like us in your charity programs. But just because you don’t like me, you shouldn’t stop my daughter from getting medical treatment.” With a single sentence, she painted a vivid picture. A rich heiress bullying a poor, single mother. What a perfect card to play. Dr. Sterling frowned. “Mrs. Montgomery, your emotional state seems highly unstable right now. Should I call a psychiatrist for an evaluation?” I stared him down. “Do it.” He was stunned. I continued, “And while you’re at it, call the legal department, the risk management team, and the hospital administration. If we’re doing an evaluation, let’s evaluate everyone.” Julian said in a low, warning tone, “Chloe, don’t make a scene.” I pressed a button on my smartwatch. My fingers were still trembling from the lingering anesthesia. I sent a text to Vivian: “My baby is in danger.” Vivian Carter was my late mother’s most trusted lawyer and the executor of the Montgomery Family Trust. She had once told me: “Chloe, marriages can fail, and people’s hearts can change. But the protective clauses in a trust fund never lie.” Back then, I thought she was too cold. Only now did I realize the painful truth in her words.

By 11:40 PM, the ward was in complete chaos. Rushed footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. I had already instructed Vivian to lock down the hospital. Fiona wouldn’t be able to escape. But I couldn’t sleep a wink. My daughter was still in another woman’s arms. How could I sleep? The door was pushed open. Rachel rolled in an incubator transport cart. Fiona followed right behind her. The baby had already been placed inside the incubator, covered by a transparent plastic dome, showing only a tiny, red face. Fiona’s eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Mrs. Montgomery, please stop blocking us. The doctor said if we delay any longer, my daughter might suffer brain damage.” Julian was there, too. He had changed his jacket, looking exhausted. “Chloe, I had Dr. Sterling call a specialist consultation. The conclusion is that we must transfer the baby first. If you’re still worried, I’ll ride in the ambulance with them.” The floating text flashed frantically. [Lies!] [They forged the consultation records!] [She taped over the baby’s left ear to hide the birthmark. You have to look!] [Once they enter the elevator, the underground parking lot has blind spots in the security cameras.] I pushed myself up against the headboard, trying to sit up. A sharp, ripping pain in my abdomen made my vision go black. The nurse aide quickly held me down. “Mrs. Montgomery, don’t get up! Your stitches will rip!” I gritted my teeth. “Bring the incubator here.” Rachel blocked it. “We are on a tight schedule.” “Bring it here!” She didn’t budge. I looked at Julian. “You said you’d ride in the ambulance, right? Then you personally bring the baby to me so I can look at her.” His eyes turned cold. “Chloe, you are disrupting hospital order.” “I just want to look at her once.” Suddenly, Fiona dropped to her knees. She clung to the edge of the incubator, sobbing hysterically. “Mrs. Montgomery, I beg you! My daughter is not your toy! Just because you have money, you can’t keep my child hostage here!” Her loud wails drew the attention of patients in the neighboring rooms. “What’s going on?” “I think it’s the Montgomery heiress. She won’t let a poor pregnant woman’s baby get transferred for treatment.” “Rich people are terrifying. They even want to control other people’s sick babies?” “She just gave birth, right? Is she having some mental breakdown?” The whispers crawled into my ears. But I only stared at the baby inside the incubator. She was crying. The final thread of my sanity snapped. I ripped the IV needle right out of the back of my hand. Beads of blood welled up. Julian’s face changed instantly. “Chloe Montgomery!” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to swing my legs out of bed. The moment my feet hit the floor, my knees buckled, and I fell forward. Julian caught me. Using the momentum, I grabbed the edge of the incubator and slammed open the side access port. Rachel screamed, “What are you doing?!” I reached my hand inside and gently parted the soft hair behind the baby’s left ear. In that split second. I saw it. A faint, reddish birthmark sat quietly on the skin behind her ear, looking like a tiny drop of red ink on paper. The floating chat exploded. Tears instantly poured down my face. “This is my baby.” The room fell dead silent. Fiona’s crying stopped for half a second. Then, she shrieked. “You’re lying! That’s my daughter!” Julian grabbed my shoulders and tried to drag me back. “That’s enough, Chloe!” I struggled, screaming at the top of my lungs, “She has a birthmark behind her left ear! She’s my daughter!” Rachel immediately chimed in, “Birthmarks are extremely common in newborns. You can’t claim a baby just because of a spot. Mrs. Montgomery, you just gave birth. You might be suffering from postpartum psychosis.” Dr. Sterling rushed to the door, his expression grim. “Get Mrs. Montgomery back into bed immediately. Call the psychiatric department for an emergency consultation if necessary.” I looked at their faces. I finally understood what it felt like to be forcefully fitted into the straightjacket of a “madwoman.” They were all waiting for me to break. First, they would label me as mentally unstable. Then, everything I said would be dismissed as the delusions of a crazy person. This was Julian’s ultimate advantage as my husband. Julian leaned down, his voice barely a whisper in my ear. “Chloe, don’t force my hand.” I looked up into his eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

He remained silent. That was his answer. The crowd in the hallway grew larger. Some people held up their phones, but the hospital security guards quickly blocked them. Fiona knelt on the floor, gasping for breath through her tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you helped me, but you can’t humiliate me like this. You have your own baby. Why do you want to steal mine?” The moment she said those words, the whispers outside changed. “Stealing a baby? Oh my god.” “Is she unhappy with her own baby? Does she think someone else’s baby is cuter, so she’s claiming it?” “Shh, keep it down. They’re rich. Even if she steals it, there’s nothing we can do.” “Postpartum psychosis is pretty common among wealthy women, right?” Two nurses held me down on the edge of the bed. My incision was completely numb with pain. Julian turned to Dr. Sterling. “She has been under a lot of stress during the pregnancy. She just woke up from anesthesia, and her emotions are highly unstable. I suggest letting her rest.” “I’m just worried about you,” he added softly to me. Fiona quickly sobbed in agreement, “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Montgomery just became a mother too. She’s probably just too anxious. I don’t blame her.” Rachel walked over holding a syringe. “Mrs. Montgomery, this is a mild sedative prescribed by Dr. Sterling. The dosage is very small and won’t affect breastfeeding.” I stared at the needle. I raised my wrist and spoke directly into my smartwatch: “Vivian, upload the audio recording to the cloud server right now.” All sound in the room died instantly. The next second, the ward door was pushed open. Vivian walked in holding her briefcase. Behind her were two police officers and the head of the Montgomery Foundation. Seeing my bleeding hand and pale face, Vivian’s eyes turned freezing cold. She turned to face everyone in the room. “Starting now, no one is allowed to move either of these newborns. No medical records are to be deleted, altered, or backdated. Anyone who violates this will be charged with destroying evidence.” Julian finally tore off his gentle mask. “Ms. Carter, this is a private matter between my wife and me.” “Didn’t you just say she’s mentally unstable?” Vivian looked at the police officers. “In that case, we need a third party to step in. We can’t have a husband making unilateral medical decisions for a supposedly ‘unstable’ patient.” “On behalf of Mrs. Montgomery, as the trustee of the Montgomery Family Trust, I am officially freezing all beneficiary status checks due to identity risks.” Julian’s face went completely pale. I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I looked at the police officers. “Officer, I request the immediate seizure and sealing of all Crestview Maternity Hospital’s newborn handover logs, delivery room access logs, surgical cord blood samples, placental pathology samples, newborn screening blood cards, transfer requests, and ambulance GPS records.” “Furthermore, seal all of tonight’s medical orders, including the sedative syringe they were about to inject into me.” Dr. Sterling broke into a cold sweat. “Mrs. Montgomery, you’ve misunderstood. This is just a family matter…” “It is not a family matter,” I said, projecting every word clearly. “I suspect a criminal conspiracy to swap newborns, forge medical documents, illegally transport an infant, and attempt to fraudulently claim the beneficiary rights of the Montgomery Family Trust.” The moment those words left my mouth, Fiona’s face drained of all color. The onlookers outside went wild.

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On the day of my wedding dress fitting, the zipper got stuck on my back. But instead of helping me, Carter took a phone call and walked out of the massive bridal boutique, leaving me all by myself. His excuse? His ex-girlfriend’s Samoyed, Cotton, was depressed and on a hunger strike. Carter just “had” to go and hand-feed him. This was the seventh time this month he had abandoned me for that dog. All because of a ridiculous pact they made when they broke up: “Whenever the dog has an emotional breakdown, both “parents” must be present to comfort him.” I stared at myself in the mirror, looking like a total joke in a half-finished wedding gown. Finally, I dialed the number I had ignored for three long years. “Damian Vance… does your offer from three years ago still stand?” On the other end of the line, the most ruthless and cold-blooded billionaire in New York’s elite circle spoke with a raspy, suppressed, and wild voice: “Ten minutes. I’m coming to get you. Chloe, you walked into my trap this time. Don’t even think about escaping for the rest of your life.” Later, Carter would kneel in the pouring rain, eyes bloodshot, begging me to look at him just one last time. But Damian simply wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing the cold tip of his black umbrella against Carter’s chin. “Get lost. Don’t dirty my wife’s eyes.”

The AC in the luxury bridal boutique was blasting, and goosebumps broke out across my bare back. The zipper of the wedding dress was stuck right at my waist. I reached behind, straining my arms, but I couldn’t pull it up no matter how hard I tried. “Carter, can you help me?” I called out through the curtain of the fitting room. No response. I pushed the curtain open just a crack. Carter was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, on the phone. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo—the groom’s suit we had just picked out yesterday. Right now, his brows were tightly knit, his voice filled with a rare, anxious tenderness. “Melody, don’t cry. What’s wrong with Cotton? Is he refusing to eat again?” Hearing the names “Melody” and “Cotton,” my fingers on the curtain froze. My fingertips turned a ghostly, bloodless white. Melody. His ex-girlfriend. Cotton. The Samoyed they adopted together. “Okay, don’t be scared. I’m on my way.” Carter hung up, and as he turned around, his eyes met mine. He paused for a second. A flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a calm, matter-of-fact look. “Chloe, I have to go,” he said, walking over. He didn’t even glance at the million-dollar gown I was wearing. “Melody said Cotton has been on a hunger strike since last night. He’s shivering under the couch. You know Article 28 of “The 36 Rules of Cotton’s Co-parenting” states that if the dog shows severe depressive symptoms, both owners must comfort him together.” That damn co-parenting agreement again. This was the seventh time this month. On the day we set our wedding date, he rushed off to sign a dental surgery consent form for Cotton. “Rule 5: Any medical intervention requires joint signatures.” On the day we did our wedding menu tasting, he left halfway through to buy a specific brand of goat milk powder. “Rule 15: Any dietary changes must be inspected by both parties in person.” On the day we mailed our wedding invitations, he spent the entire afternoon at Melody’s apartment watching the rain with Cotton. “Rule 19: Thunderstorms require double companionship.” Every single time, he used that professional, business-like tone to tell me, “Chloe, I promised Melody when we broke up. Cotton is a living soul. I can’t just abandon him. This is just a responsibility. Don’t overthink it.” I stared at him, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with wet cardboard. “Carter, today is our last dress fitting. The designer flew in all the way from Paris, and she’s only staying for two hours.” My voice was quiet, trembling with a pathetic weakness that made even me despise myself. He reached out, habitually trying to ruffle my hair, but I jerked my head away. His hand froze in mid-air. His brows furrowed deeper, his tone dripping with the impatience of a man used to getting his way. “Chloe, you used to be so reasonable. We can reschedule the fitting. I can pay double to fly the designer back here. But Cotton is in critical condition right now. He’s not just a dog—he is Melody’s emotional support animal.” “And what about me?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Does that mean your fiancée will always have to take a backseat to a dog and its owner?” Carter’s face darkened. He hated it when I questioned him like this. “I told you, it’s a responsibility. The agreement is in black and white. I can’t break my word.” He glanced at his Rolex, clearly losing his patience. “Try the dress on by yourself first. Tell the designer if you want any changes. I’ll pick you up later.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, pushing open the heavy glass doors of the boutique. A wave of summer heat rushed in, only to be instantly swallowed by the cold AC. I stood frozen, staring at the mirror. I looked like a complete joke—wearing a gorgeous, expensive wedding dress with a zipper stuck halfway down my back. The assistant walked over cautiously. “Miss Smith… do you want to keep trying?” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, the last trace of moisture in my eyes had evaporated. “No.” I reached behind and yanked the heavy gown down. The rough lace scratched my back, leaving angry red marks, but I didn’t feel a thing. “Miss Smith, about the remaining balance on this dress…” “Cancel the order. Keep the deposit.” I changed back into my own clothes, grabbed my purse, and spoke as calmly as if I were talking about the weather. When I stepped out of the boutique, the harsh sunlight stung my eyes. I pulled out my phone. I didn’t text Carter to scream at him. I didn’t post any depressing rants on Instagram. I simply scrolled to the very bottom of my contact list, staring at the number I had blocked, unblocked in the dead of night, but never actually dialed. Damian Vance. The most untouchable man in the city. Ruthless, cold-blooded, and terrifying. He was also the man who, on a rainy night three years ago, had pinned me against an alley wall with bloodshot eyes, asking me in a broken voice, “Why can’t you choose me?” I pressed the call button. It rang only once before he picked up. No “hello,” no casual greeting. Just heavy, ragged breathing, so intense I could almost feel the heat of a volcano ready to erupt through the screen. “Damian,” I said, my voice incredibly calm. “Does what you said three years ago still stand?” Silence stretched for two seconds. Then, the sharp “click” of a metal lighter echoed. The man’s voice was incredibly raspy, dripping with a dark, obsessive passion. “Chloe, do you have any idea what you’re doing right now?” “I do,” I said, watching the traffic rush by. “I don’t want to wait anymore. If you can…” “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he cut me off brutally. I heard the loud crash of a chair flipping over and people gasping in the background. “Ten minutes. Chloe, you walked into my life on your own this time. For the rest of your life, even if you die, you’ll die with my last name on your death certificate.”

After hanging up, I took a cab back to the penthouse I shared with Carter. The smart lock beeped, and the door swung open. The living room was cluttered with wedding favors we hadn’t sent out yet. I walked straight into the bedroom and pulled out a large black suitcase. I didn’t have much. When I first moved in, Carter had told me, “I’ll buy you whatever you need. You just need to bring yourself.” Now I realized he just didn’t want this place to have too many of my traces. After all, this place used to be his and Melody’s home. I had just finished packing a few everyday clothes when the front door opened. Carter was back. He carried a strong smell of veterinary disinfectant, mixed with a faint, sweet trace of Melody’s perfume. Seeing the open suitcase on the bed, he stopped in his tracks as he kicked off his shoes. “What are you doing?” He walked in, his brow locked in a tight frown. “Packing.” I didn’t even look up, throwing my toiletries into a makeup bag. Carter took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. He walked over and grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, have you had enough? It was bad enough that you threw a tantrum at the boutique, but now you’re doing the whole run-away-from-home act?” I yanked my hand out of his grip and looked at him coldly. “How’s the dog? Not dead, I assume?” “Chloe!” Carter’s voice raised, his eyes filled with disbelief. “When did you become so heartless? Cotton had acute gastroenteritis! The vet said if I had arrived a step later, he would have gone into shock! Melody was crying so hard she couldn’t even stand. Can’t you show some compassion?” I laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost came out of my eyes. “Carter, your compassion is truly overflowing. So overflowing that you can abandon your fiancée in a fitting room just to dry your ex-girlfriend’s tears.” I zipped my suitcase shut with a sharp, scraping sound. “I’m not throwing a tantrum, and I’m not running away. I’m just making room.” Carter stared at me, his chest heaving. He seemed to be trying to control his anger, trying to use his usual arrogant, condescending tone to put an end to my “childish behavior.” “Chloe, I know you feel hurt. But I’ve explained this a thousand times. The co-parenting agreement was signed when Melody and I broke up. Cotton was severely traumatized by our split back then. As a man, I have to take responsibility.” His tone softened, and he reached out, trying to hug me. “Alright, don’t be mad. I rescheduled the boutique. Tomorrow, I’ll cancel all my meetings and spend the whole day with you at the fitting, okay?” I took a step back, dodging his touch. “No need.” I pulled the cancellation receipt from my bag and tossed it onto the bed. “I cancelled the dress. They didn’t refund the deposit. Consider it my donation to your dog’s therapy.” Carter’s eyes fell on the receipt, his pupils shrinking instantly. “You cancelled it? Who gave you permission?!” His voice finally cracked, revealing a hint of panic. “Not just the dress,” I said, looking at him calmly. “The venue, the caterer, the florist—everything I was in charge of, I’ve cancelled. Carter, our wedding is off.” The air in the room froze. Carter stared at me for a solid ten seconds before letting out a cold scoff. “Chloe, you’re threatening me with the wedding?” He loosened his tie, his eyes turning cold again. “Do you honestly think I’ll buy into this? You love me so much you threw away your dignity. You’ve spent the last four years playing house and taking care of me like a maid. You really think you have the guts to leave?” His words were like a rusty blade, slowly carving into my heart. He was right. I had loved him so much. I loved him enough to tolerate him rushing over to Melody’s at midnight because of a phone call. I loved him enough to smile while helping him pick out dog food for that Samoyed. I had spent four years squeezing myself into the tiny cracks of their crowded, three-way relationship. “I didn’t have the guts before,” I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. “But now? You just make me sick.” Carter’s face turned pale. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a grip tight enough to shatter my bones. “Chloe! If you walk out of this door today, don’t you dare think about coming back. Even if you beg me on your knees, I won’t look at you again!” Right then, a sharp, aggressive car horn honked from downstairs. Three short honks, followed by two long blasts. It was the distinct custom horn of a Maybach—low, arrogant, and commanding. I shook off Carter’s hand and dragged my suitcase toward the door. “You won’t have to look at me ever again. Because someone is already here to pick me up.”

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During the seventh year of my secret relationship with Brandon Vance, we attended our firm’s annual ski retreat in Aspen. During the team lottery, he cheated so he could pair up with Hailey Thorne, his first love who had just returned to the country. In front of everyone, he handed my custom heated gloves to Hailey and said softly, “You get cold easily. Put these on.” The crowd went wild, cheering about how they were “meant to be.” I didn’t say a word. Instead, I quietly accepted the blue draft card handed to me by Julian Sterling, a man notorious in the venture capital world for his ruthless, cold-blooded tactics. Late that night, Brandon sent me a text: “Don’t throw a tantrum. This is just a test to see if you’re mature enough to handle being Mrs. Vance.” At that exact moment, I threw the seven-year anniversary watch I had custom-ordered for him straight into the deep snow. If anyone wanted to be the future Mrs. Vance, they could have the job. I was officially done. The snow in Aspen was heavy, but the heating inside the luxury chalet was so intense it made my skin itch. I stood on the outermost edge of the crowd, watching Logan Miller carry a raffle box to the center of the grand hall. “Alright, everyone! The rules for this year’s backcountry ski rally have changed!” Logan yelled excitedly, scanning the room. “Co-ed pairs, blind draw! If you pull the same color, you’re locked in. For the next three days and two nights in the wilderness, you survive together!” Whistles and cheers immediately erupted throughout the hall. The investment banking world is small. These men and women, usually suffocating in tight suits, loved nothing more than a little forced proximity and thrill in the wild. Hailey Thorne, wrapped in an expensive white mink coat, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, shrank timidly behind Brandon. The corner of Brandon’s mouth ticked upward. His tall frame shifted subtly, shielding her from the draft near the door. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. “I’ve got you.” “Oh, look at Brandon already playing the knight in shining armor! The rest of us better watch out on the slopes. Don’t run into his princess, or Brandon will have our heads!” The teasing grew louder and louder. I lowered my eyes, my hand stuffed deep into my coat pocket. My fingers tightly gripped the blue plastic card I had just drawn. No one knew that ten minutes before the game started, I had been standing near the second-floor stairwell. I had heard Logan whisper to Brandon: “Brandon, I marked the red cards. They’re at the very bottom right of the box. I kept them special for you and Hailey. That’s the best I can do for you, man.” And Brandon had merely given a casual, confident grunt in response. In our seven years of dating, he had never once acknowledged my existence in public. Before this trip, he had even asked me to book economy class while he flew first class. His excuse? “People at the firm talk too much, Chloe. For our future, we need to keep our distance.” And I had believed him. I genuinely thought that once this retreat was over and he was officially promoted to Managing Partner, he would fulfill his promise from seven years ago—to make our relationship public and propose to me. But now, he was walking toward the raffle box. His long fingers reached in, pulling out the marked red card with absolute precision. A second later, Hailey “coincidentally” pulled out a red card as well. “Oh my god—red! A perfect match!” Logan clapped, and the entire room erupted. Hailey’s face flushed red. She looked up at Brandon with watery, sparkling eyes. “Brandon, it looks like I’m going to be a burden to you for the next three days. I’m still such a terrible skier…” “It’s fine,” Brandon said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. He untied his cashmere scarf and wrapped it gently around her neck. “I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.” At that moment, my heart felt like it had been plunged into the freezing Colorado snow. That scarf… I had spent three months knitting it for him, stitch by stitch. I took a deep, shaky breath, pushing down the bitter taste in my throat, and raised my blue card. “Who has the blue card?” I asked. My voice wasn’t loud, but in the suddenly quiet room, it carried perfectly. Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. Logan blinked, trying to laugh it off. “Chloe, tough luck. Blue is the extreme backcountry route. It’s the most dangerous. Want me to swap it for you?” “No need,” I cut him off, my gaze sweeping the room. Hearing my voice, Brandon raised his head. Our eyes met through the crowd. His brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with a familiar, warning look that said: “Don’t start acting up now.” Just then, a cool, deep voice drifted over from the corner sofa. “I have it.” The crowd turned, gasping collectively. The man sitting in the corner stood up. He wore a minimalist black ski jacket. He was tall, with sharp, striking features, and carried an aura of absolute authority that warned everyone to stay away. It was Julian Sterling. The youngest, most ruthless venture capital titan on Wall Street, and the primary sponsor of this entire retreat. He walked over to me, opening his palm. A blue card lay quietly in his hand. “Looks like we’re partners, Chloe.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly turned tense. Nobody expected a mid-level investment director like me to be paired with a cold-blooded industry giant like Julian. Brandon’s face darkened visibly. He took a step forward, as if to say something, but Hailey gently tugged at his sleeve. “Brandon, my head hurts. I think the altitude is getting to me.” Brandon froze. His attention was instantly pulled back to Hailey. “Let me take you upstairs to rest.” Watching their retreating backs, I let out a mocking laugh. This was the man I had loved for seven years. For seven years, I had stood by him when he was just a broke kid, fighting alongside him until he secured his VP position. I had taken the fall for him in corporate politics, stayed up countless nights writing his due diligence reports, and even drank myself into a bleeding stomach ulcer at client dinners just to save his projects. Back then, he had held my hand by the hospital bed, his eyes red as he swore, “Chloe, once I make it to the top, I’ll give you the most beautiful wedding in the world.” But the moment Hailey—the college sweetheart who had dumped him for a rich guy, only to return now that she was divorced—reappeared, my seven years of devotion became nothing but a joke. That night, everyone gathered around the outdoor fire pit for a game of Truth or Dare. Hailey had changed into a form-fitting sweater, leaning closely against Brandon. The empty beer bottle spun, pointing directly at Hailey. Logan smirked. “Hailey, truth or dare?” “Truth,” she said with a gentle smile. “What is your biggest regret in life?” The entire circle fell quiet. Hailey lowered her head, her eyes welling with tears. She stole a quick glance at Brandon. “I regret being too young and foolish… and letting go of the boy who loved me more than anything.” A collective, knowing sigh rippled through the crowd. Brandon’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at Hailey, but the storm in his eyes was impossible to hide. The bottle spun again. This time, it stopped right in front of me. “Chloe, your turn!” Logan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Truth. Do you have a boyfriend?” I raised my head. Brandon’s gaze finally locked onto me. He was tense. He was terrified. Terrified that I would lose my mind and expose our seven-year relationship in front of everyone, ruining his touching reunion with his first love. Looking at his handsome, selfish face, a wave of nausea hit me. I picked up my glass of ice water, took a sip, and said calmly, “No. I’m completely single.” The second the words left my mouth, I clearly saw Brandon’s tense shoulders relax. But then, his brows knit together again, seemingly annoyed by how easily and cleanly I had denied him. “Single is great!” Logan quickly filled the silence. “Julian is single too. Sounds like the blue team might have some sparks flying!” Julian, who had been sitting quietly beside me playing with his lighter, let out a soft chuckle. “I certainly hope so.” Those five simple words were like a boulder dropped into a quiet pond. Brandon’s face turned completely black.

When I got back to my room that night, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. It was a barrage of messages from Brandon on Snapchat. “What the hell was that tonight?” “Why are you getting so close to Julian Sterling? Do you have any idea how ruthless he is in this industry?” “Hailey just got back to the States and her mental state is fragile. I’m only looking after her because of our history. Stop acting like a bitter housewife.” Looking at the gaslighting texts on my screen, I didn’t even have the energy to reply. A few minutes later, another message popped up, his tone softening: “Chloe, be good. Just put up with it for a few days. Don’t throw a tantrum. When we get back to New York, I’ll buy you that Chanel bag you wanted.” A slap in the face, followed by a sweet treat. For seven years, he had trained me like a dog with this exact method. Whenever I complained, he would say, “You’re going to be my wife, Chloe. You need to look at the bigger picture. Don’t be petty like other girls.” I shut my phone off completely and tossed it onto the nightstand. The next morning, the backcountry ski rally officially began. The Aspen backcountry was steep, and the temperature had plummeted to negative twenty. Before heading out, I realized I hadn’t packed enough hand warmers. My hands were already stiffening. Brandon walked over holding two pairs of high-end heated ski gloves. We had bought them together before the trip—one pair for him, one for me. I reached out to take them, but he walked right past me, straight to Hailey. “Hailey, your hands get cold easily. Wear these. The heating chip inside lasts for eight hours.” Hailey looked up, pleasantly surprised. “What about you?” “I’m fine. I run hot anyway,” Brandon said, smiling as he ruffled her hair. The colleagues standing around murmured about what a gentleman Brandon was. I stood there, looking at my red, freezing fingers. The very last spark of affection in my heart died right then and there. “Hands out.” A deep voice sounded from above me. I looked up to find Julian standing in front of me. Without waiting for my response, he took my freezing hands and pulled a pair of heavy, warm black professional ski gloves over them. They still held the warmth of his body. “These are…” “My spares,” he said flatly, not even sparing a glance at Brandon. “I don’t like my partner slowing me down because of frostbite.” Though his words were blunt, the warmth of the gloves made my throat tight with unshed tears. Brandon noticed the exchange. His face darkened, and he strode over, grabbing my arm. “Chloe, we need to talk.” He dragged me behind a large pine tree and hissed in a low, furious voice, “Are you insane? Accepting things from another man right in front of me?” I yanked my arm out of his grip and stared at him coldly. “Where were you when my hands were freezing to death?” “I told you, Hailey gets cold easily!” Brandon said, completely righteous. “You’re tough, Chloe. What’s wrong with making a small sacrifice? When did you become so selfish?” I let out a bitter laugh. Me? Selfish? For seven years, I had poured my youth, my career, and my resources into him. And in return, I was called “selfish.” “Brandon,” I said, my voice so quiet and calm it surprised me. “I don’t want your gloves anymore. I don’t want anything of yours.” Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked back to Julian.

The backcountry route was far more grueling than I had anticipated. Julian was an incredible skier, but he never sped ahead to leave me behind. He stayed exactly three yards ahead of me, carving a path through the fresh powder, stopping at every dangerous turn to wait for me. “Keep your center of gravity low. Don’t be afraid,” his voice came through the walkie-talkie, steady and incredibly grounding. Meanwhile, the red team was a disaster. Hailey screamed the entire way, constantly wiping out or getting her skis stuck. Brandon hovered over her, even taking off his own outer jacket to lay it on the snow so she could sit and rest. During our lunch break at the mid-mountain lodge, I was holding a mug of hot water to warm my hands. Hailey walked over, her eyes rimmed with red. “Chloe,” she said, biting her lip with a victimized expression. “I’m so sorry. I know you and Brandon are close colleagues. He’s been so busy taking care of me that he ignored you. Please don’t be mad at him.” On the surface, it was an apology. In reality, she was claiming ownership, while subtly reducing my seven-year history with Brandon to being “close colleagues.” Before I could speak, Brandon strode over, instantly pulling Hailey behind him. “Chloe, Hailey is easily frightened. Stop giving her attitude.” Looking at Brandon’s protective stance, I found it utterly pathetic. “Brandon, which of your eyes saw me giving her attitude?” “Don’t lie,” Brandon said, his brow furrowed with deep disappointment. “I know you’re upset. But Hailey just got back to the country. She has no one else here. As her old friend, it’s only right that I help her.” “As a senior director of the firm, you have no professional grace. You’re behaving like a jealous child. I’m truly disappointed in you.” I looked at him as if he were a stranger. This was the man I had loved. To protect another woman, he didn’t hesitate to drag my name through the mud in public. “Are you done?” I set my mug down, not giving him another second of my time. “If you’re done, get lost. You’re ruining my lunch.” Infuriated by my dismissive tone, Brandon was about to snap when Julian walked over, carrying two plates of grilled steak. He sat down right next to me, sliding one plate in front of me, his voice casual but dripping with authority. “Eat up. You need to keep your strength. Don’t waste your energy on irrelevant people.” “Julian, don’t cross the line!” Brandon spat, his teeth clenched. Julian didn’t even look up. He cut a piece of steak, chewed it slowly, and then finally raised his cold eyes to Brandon. “Aren’t you overstepping, Brandon?” Julian’s voice was like ice. “You protect your ex, I protect my partner. We mind our own business. Or what? Are you trying to keep both?” Brandon’s face went pale. Julian’s sharp words hit him right where it hurt, leaving him completely speechless. He glared at me one last time, grabbed Hailey’s hand, and stormed off.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443798”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My arm had a four-inch gash, blood dripping from my fingertips. Yet, the first thing my fiancé said when he woke up, the man I had just risked my life to save, was to ask if Hailey Sterling, who was cowering outside the door, was alright. Inside the top-floor conference room of the Cole Group, Julian Carter sat with a bandage on his forehead. He claimed he had “amnesia” from the hit and said he only remembered Hailey. His mother awkwardly told me to be patient and wait for him. Suddenly, my late grandmother’s voice exploded in my mind. “He is faking it. He played this exact same trick on you in your past life, bleeding the Cole family dry while keeping Hailey perfectly safe.” My grandfather slammed three marriage alliance proposals onto the mahogany table. Julian finally looked at me, his voice dismissive. He said he would still go through with our wedding, but demanded I stop making life difficult for Hailey. Without a single second of hesitation, I bypassed the Carter family’s contract and picked up the very last folder. “Grandpa, I choose Greyson Vance.”

Amelia’s POV My arm was sliced open, a four-inch gash oozing blood that dripped steadily onto the floor. But the fiancé I had nearly died saving didn’t care. The moment he opened his eyes, his only concern was whether Hailey Sterling was scared. Inside the VIP conference room of the Cole building, the silence was suffocating. Last night, a massive display shelf in the exhibition hall had collapsed. I had shoved Julian out of the way, but my own arm was ripped open by a jagged, rusty metal bracket. Now, Julian walked in with a small bandage on his forehead. He walked right past me, bleeding and pale, and wrapped his arms around Hailey, who was sobbing softly. “Don’t cry, Hailey. I remember you.” Hailey clung to his chest, her voice trembling. “Julian, I thought you forgot about me.” Julian’s mother smiled nervously at me. “Amelia, sweetie, Julian bumped his head last night. His memory is just a bit scrambled. You two grew up together, so I’m sure you’ll wait for him to recover, right?” I stared at the hugging couple. My wound felt freezing cold, matching the ice in my chest. Right then, a familiar, furious voice echoed in my head. “That pathetic jerk is faking amnesia! In your last life, he used this exact trick to manipulate you. He drained our family’s fortune to climb to the top while keeping Hailey safe. You died alone in a hospital bed because of them! I am still so angry!” My pupils shrunk. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. It was my Grandma Martha’s voice. She had died seven years ago! This was a wake-up call. Julian was faking amnesia just to back out of our engagement without looking like the bad guy. My grandfather, Arthur Cole, tapped his cane heavily against the floor. He signaled his assistant to lay out the marriage contracts. “Amelia, whoever you choose will get the Cole Group’s ten-billion-dollar project. I’m only asking you once. Have you made up your mind?” The Carter family’s proposal sat right in the middle. The very last one belonged to Greyson Vance. He was the sole heir of the Vance Group. We had been rivals since childhood, arguing every single time we met. Grandma’s voice screamed in my head. “Pick Greyson! In your past life, after the Carters threw you out, he was the only one who searched for you in the pouring rain and took you in. He has a sarcastic mouth, but his heart is pure gold! Amelia, trust me!” Julian finally deigned to look at me. “I will still marry you, Amelia. But Hailey is fragile. I love her now, so you have to promise not to bully her.” Hailey peeked from behind his back. “Amelia, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to be the only one Julian remembers.” In the past, if Julian even frowned, I would blame myself. But now, looking at his lying, smug face, I just felt sick. I didn’t hesitate. I reached past the Carter family’s folder and grabbed the last proposal. “Grandpa, I choose Greyson Vance.” “I’ll marry him.” The room erupted into chaos. The calm mask on Julian’s face shattered. He stared at me in pure disbelief. “Amelia, are you insane? You’re throwing away our future and choosing an enemy just to throw a tantrum?!” I didn’t even look at him. In front of everyone, I ripped off the promise bracelet I had worn for ten years and threw it onto the Carter family’s folder like trash. “It’s not a tantrum. You simply don’t deserve me.” In my head, Grandma cheered. “Yes! That’s my girl! If a man is trash, throw him in the dumpster!” As soon as the meeting ended, Julian and his friends blocked my path in the hallway. His friend, Tyler Brooks, sneered immediately. “Amelia, are you serious about Greyson? Come on, everyone knows you’ve been obsessed with Julian for years. He just has temporary memory loss, he’s not dead. Who are you trying to put a show for?” Hearing this, Julian’s expression softened, his ego returning. He looked down at me. “I know you’re just angry. I’ll still marry you. But Hailey just got back to the country. Don’t go around bothering her.” Grandma spat in my mind. “The nerve of this guy! Who does he think he is?” I scoffed. “And how exactly did I bother her?” Before the words fully left my mouth, Hailey pushed a heavy metal cart loaded with files right toward me. She acted like she didn’t see me, ramming it straight into my injured arm. My wound tore open again. Fresh blood soaked through my bandage instantly. Yet, Hailey cried louder than me. “Amelia! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please don’t hate me!” She sobbed, shrinking behind Julian. Julian didn’t even look at my bleeding arm. He shielded Hailey protectively. “Amelia! It was an accident! She apologized, what more do you want?!” Hailey raised her hand. “Maybe I should slap myself… if that makes Amelia feel better…” Julian grabbed her wrist, glaring at me. “Are you happy now? Do you have to use your status as the Cole heiress to bully people?” If this were the past, I would have desperately explained that I didn’t do anything. But today, I realized trying to reason with an idiot was pointless. It was better to just hit them. I stepped forward, raising my uninjured right hand. Smack! A loud, solid slap landed squarely on Hailey’s face. The hallway went dead silent. Hailey touched her swelling cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “That,” I said coldly, “is what using my status to bully someone actually looks like.” Julian lost his mind. “Amelia! How dare you!” Smack! I swung back and slapped Julian right across his face. “And that is what bullying looks like. Got it?” I shook my numb hand, looking at them like they were bugs. Julian had been pampered his entire life. This slap completely shattered his pride. Rage burned in his eyes. “Amelia! If you walk away today, I swear, even if you beg me on your knees, I will never look at you again!” “Then you better sew your eyes shut.” I pressed the elevator button. As the doors slid open, I left him with one last line: “Because no one is going to wait for you by the trash can.” As the doors closed, Grandma laughed hysterically in my head. “Incredible! That’s how you teach them a lesson! Don’t be afraid, Amelia, I’ve got your back!”

Amelia’s POV I walked toward the break room and heard Hailey’s muffled giggles coming through the gap in the door. “Julian, Amelia slapped you in public. Are you really not mad?” Julian’s voice was arrogant and cold. “She’s just throwing a fit. She’s been clinging to me like a desperate dog for years. She can’t live without me. I bet you within three days, she’ll come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.” Standing outside, my blood turned to ice. The amnesia was indeed a lie. The manipulation and contempt were real. He viewed me as a toy he could discard and retrieve whenever he pleased. “See? He’s a parasite!” Grandma was shaking with rage. “If a dog bites you, don’t try to talk to it. Let’s go!” I turned to leave, but a sudden commotion happened at the end of the hallway. A waiter slipped, and a tray of boiling hot coffee and shattered ceramic cups came flying right toward me. The break room door flew open. Julian saw the hot liquid flying toward my face. He instinctively took a step toward me, but Hailey shrieked and grabbed his arm. “Julian, I’m scared!” That split second of hesitation was all it took. Julian turned and hugged Hailey instead. I closed my eyes, bracing for the pain. But right before the boiling coffee could scald my face, a pair of strong arms pulled me hard into a broad chest. A man used his expensive designer jacket to shield me, blocking every drop of hot coffee and flying shard. A clean, cedarwood scent wrapped around me, and a deep voice grumbled over my head. “Amelia, are you stupid? Why didn’t you dodge?!” I looked up in shock. Greyson Vance was frowning, his dark eyes filled with suppressed anger. He stood before me like a wall, keeping me safe from the danger. Grandma let out a huge sigh of relief in my head. “That’s him! That’s the same protective back from your past life! He might have a smart mouth, but he actually shows up when it matters!” Julian’s face turned green when he saw who it was. He marched over and ordered, “Amelia, get over here!” I didn’t move. Greyson sneered, keeping his hand firmly on my shoulder. He glared at Julian like a wolf guarding his territory. “Her arm is literally bleeding, and you want her to go over to you so she can be your shield again?” Julian’s face flushed with anger. “This is between her and me!” “Not anymore.” Greyson smirked. “Amelia’s grandfather called me to pick up my fiancée. She chose me. Mr. Carter, don’t tell me you don’t know you’ve been dumped yet?” The word “fiancée” hit Julian like a sledgehammer. Hailey stopped crying out of sheer shock. Julian stared at me as if I were a stranger. “Are you crazy? You’re marrying this jerk just to get back at me?” This time, my heart didn’t ache. I only felt an incredible rush of freedom. “Julian, don’t flatter yourself. Greyson is ten thousand times better than you.” Greyson raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. “Can you walk, fiancée?” I nodded. He didn’t overstep by carrying me, but he offered his arm. “Let’s go get you patched up.” At the hospital. The doctor cut open my bloody sleeve. As the disinfectant hit the wound, I turned pale and bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. Greyson leaned against the doorframe, watching me coldly. “In the past, you’d cry for hours if Julian so much as sighed. Now your arm is practically ripped open, and you’re acting tough?” I glared at him. “No one will think you’re mute if you keep your mouth shut.” Greyson chuckled. “What? You were pretty quick to use me as a shield earlier.” I stayed quiet for a moment, then whispered, “Greyson, I didn’t choose you because I like you.” “Obviously. If you suddenly liked me, I’d have the doctor check your head too.” Greyson stopped smiling and looked at me with intense seriousness. “Amelia, you can use me to escape. But remember this: once you’re engaged to me, Julian has no right to touch you. Don’t you dare run back to him the moment you feel a little lonely.” “I would rather die than go back to him,” I said firmly. Greyson stared at me for three seconds, a faint smile touching his lips. “Good.” When we walked out of the clinic, Julian and Hailey were waiting by the exit. Seeing us walk out side-by-side, Julian’s face was incredibly dark. “Amelia, I’m taking you home. Stop making a scene in public.” He really believed I was just playing hard to get. Greyson casually switched the medicine bag to his left hand, and naturally wrapped his right arm around my waist, pulling me close. “No need to worry, Mr. Carter. The only one looking pathetic here is the one who got thrown out.” Julian’s eyes turned red as he stared at Greyson’s hand on my waist. “Take your hands off her!” Greyson didn’t back down. He leaned in close to my ear, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “Fiancée, there’s a dog blocking our path. Shall we go?” I leaned into his chest and nodded. “Yes, let’s go.” At the curb, Greyson opened the car door for me, naturally placing his hand over the frame to protect my head. As he got into the driver’s seat, I asked softly, “Why did you show up so fast?” Greyson started the engine. “Your grandfather called and said two stray dogs were barking at you.” “So you just came?” “Why wouldn’t I?” Greyson stepped on the gas, the sports car roaring as we left Julian in the dust. “Did you want me to leave you there to watch their cheap drama?” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. In my mind, Grandma clicked her tongue in satisfaction. “See? That’s a real man! Let the trash have the trash. Your good life is just starting!”

Amelia’s POV The Cole family’s banquet to announce the new marriage alliance was scheduled for two days later. During those two days, Julian called me over a dozen times. I blocked every single number. Finally, he sent a text message filled with his usual arrogance: Don’t take this joke too far. Our families’ alliance is not a toy for you to use to make me bow to you. Hailey has been crying for two days because of your slap. I expect an apology from you at the banquet tonight. I stared at the screen, scoffed, and handed the phone directly to my grandfather. My grandfather’s face darkened with rage after reading it. “Amelia, I really misjudged that boy.” I sat in the study, looking at my bandaged arm calmly. “Grandpa, I did too. This time, I want to choose someone who won’t hesitate to stand by me.” Grandma clapped happily in my head. “Exactly! A man who doesn’t respect himself is like rotten cabbage! Tonight, let’s show the Carters what it means to be out of their league!” That evening, the Cole estate was brightly lit. Everyone assumed the stars of the night would be Julian and me. Julian’s mother was wearing a designer gown, boasting to the guests. “Oh, Amelia is practically my own daughter. Julian marrying her is our family’s blessing.” She was already acting like she owned the place. Julian stood in the center of the crowd holding a glass of champagne, looking extremely confident. Hailey stood beside him in a simple white dress. When people asked about her identity, she looked down. “I’m just Julian’s friend. I don’t want to get in the way of his engagement with Amelia…” Her victim act made me look like some villainous, jealous woman. I watched from the entrance with absolute indifference. The grand doors opened, and I walked in, holding my grandfather’s arm. Julian’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me. He took a step forward, but the crowd suddenly parted. Greyson had arrived. He wore a custom black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and tall frame. His expression was cold and sharp. He ignored the guests trying to greet him and walked straight to me. In front of everyone, he ignored Julian entirely and asked softly, “Does your arm still hurt?” I blinked, touched by his concern. “Much better.” Greyson checked my bandage to make sure there was no blood, then turned to my grandfather, his cold demeanor softening. “Mr. Cole, apologies for being late.” My grandfather laughed heartily. “Just in time!” Not far away, Julian’s face turned pale. He stared at Greyson and me standing together. Hailey leaned against him weakly. “Julian, Amelia looks so beautiful tonight. She must be standing with Mr. Vance just to make you jealous. Don’t be mad, I’ll go talk to her later…” “Shut up,” Julian snapped, his eyes glued to me. I felt his gaze, but I felt absolutely nothing. My grandfather stepped onto the stage, and the ballroom fell silent. Julian’s mother was still daydreaming, nudging Julian to get ready to walk up. But Julian’s feet felt like they were glued to the floor as he watched Greyson stand mere inches from me. My grandfather raised the microphone, his strong voice echoing through the hall. “Thank you all for coming. Tonight, I want you to witness my granddaughter Amelia’s engagement. The Cole family and the Vance family have finalized our alliance. Amelia is now officially engaged to Greyson Vance!” The room erupted into shocked whispers! The smile on Julian’s mother’s face froze. She pushed through the crowd, outraged. “Mr. Cole! There must be a mistake! Amelia and Julian grew up together! Isn’t the alliance with the Carters?!” My grandfather looked down at her with a cold sneer. “Grew up together? Does that give your son the right to treat my granddaughter like garbage?” Julian’s mother turned pale. Julian pushed through the crowd, staring at me, his voice shaking. “Amelia, are you serious? You’re playing with your own marriage just to hurt me?” My voice was crystal clear. “I told you, I choose Greyson. I never play games.” Seeing this, Hailey rushed forward with teary eyes. “Amelia! Is this because of me? If you’re angry, I’ll leave right now! Don’t ruin your life over a tantrum. Julian loves you!” The guests’ looks turned suspicious. Before I could speak, Greyson let out a cold laugh. “Miss Sterling, if you donated your brain, I doubt anyone would want it.” Greyson’s eyes were like ice as he exposed her in front of everyone. “You claim you care about Amelia, yet you’re clinging to her ex-fiancé like glue? This isn’t a soap opera. Julian is just trash that the Cole family threw out. There’s no need to play the tragic martyr here.” Someone in the crowd laughed out loud. Hailey’s face flushed bright red, tears stuck on her lashes. Julian stepped in front of her, furious. “Greyson! Watch your mouth!” Greyson calmly dusted off his sleeve, looking at him with utter disdain. “Did you watch yours when you treated Amelia like trash? Oh, does it hurt now? Deal with it.” Julian was shaking with rage. I watched silently. In the past, I would have desperately explained myself to avoid Julian’s misunderstanding. But now, Greyson stood by my side, slapping every lie back into their faces. In my mind, Grandma laughed happily. “Amazing! I love this guy! You have to scald trash with boiling water!”

Amelia’s POV As the banquet drew to a close, Julian cornered me in a quiet hallway like a desperate dog. His eyes were bloodshot. “Amelia, you win! You got your revenge, and you dragged my family’s name through the mud! If you call off this fake engagement right now, I will take you to get our marriage license tomorrow!” Even now, he still thought I was playing hard to get. I looked at his face, a face I used to love, and found it pathetic. “Julian, do you have trouble understanding English?” I looked at him coldly. “I didn’t do this to win.” “I did this because you genuinely disgust me.” I shoved past his shoulder and walked away. At the end of the hallway, I let out a long breath. Greyson handed me a glass of warm water, smirking. “You looked so tough back there, but now your legs are shaking?” I took the glass and glared at him. “Would you die if you stopped teasing me for one second?” “Probably.” Greyson looked at me, a rare warmth in his dark eyes. “But honestly, Amelia, you did great tonight.” My eyes welled up with tears. Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the restroom. Hailey was sitting on the wet floor, her dress ruined, clutching a broken bracelet, sobbing. She claimed she only wanted to look at my engagement bracelet, but I pushed her. By the time I arrived, Julian had already helped her up. His first words to me were a demand. “Why did you push her?” I looked at the broken bracelet in Hailey’s hand. It wasn’t my engagement bracelet. Mine was still securely on my wrist. The fake one Hailey held was cheap and dull. But because she was crying so hard, the onlookers were already whispering about my “terrible temper.” Grandma cursed in my head. “Again with this trick! In your past life, she broke your jewelry and cried, making you look like the bad guy! Don’t let her get away with it!” I didn’t rush to defend myself. I walked up to Hailey, kneeled down, and asked calmly, “You say I pushed you?” Hailey flinched, shrinking into Julian’s arms. “Amelia, I don’t blame you. You’re just stressed today. I know you didn’t mean it.” “So you’re saying I did.” I nodded, grabbed Hailey’s wrist, and took the broken bracelet from her hand. Hailey shrieked, “What are you doing?!” I held the broken bracelet up to the light for everyone to see. “The diamonds on my bracelet are custom-cut, and there is a Cole family crest engraved on the inner band. Many people here have seen it. This cheap plastic piece in your hand doesn’t have the crest.” Julian’s face changed. Hailey stopped crying for a second, then quickly stammered, “I… I don’t know about jewelry. I just saw yours and wanted to look…” Greyson walked through the crowd, his voice chilling. “You don’t know about jewelry, but you certainly know how to pick a restroom with no cameras to stage a fall.” Hailey looked at him with teary eyes. “Mr. Vance, why do you keep targeting me?” “Because your acting is terrible.” Greyson turned to the staff. “Check who entered the restroom. There are too many eyes at this party. Crying loud doesn’t make you right.” A young waitress stepped forward, hesitating. “I… I saw this lady squatting by the door by herself. She was holding something the whole time. Miss Cole only walked in after she was already on the floor.” Hailey’s face drained of color. Julian tried to find an excuse. “Maybe she was just confused because she was scared.” I looked at him, the last trace of warmth in my heart freezing over. “Julian, you will always find an excuse for her.” Julian opened his mouth, but no words came out. Hailey sobbed, shaking her head. “No, Amelia, I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just afraid you hated me…” I tossed the fake bracelet into the trash can. “What you’re afraid of is none of my business. Next time you want to put on a show, use something cheap. You are not worthy of touching anything related to my family.” I turned and walked away. Greyson followed me, draping his jacket over my shoulders. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For what?” Greyson’s tone was still teasing. “If you had started explaining yourself back there, I would have really lost respect for you.” I glared at him. Grandma laughed in my head. “Good glare. In a marriage, you can’t let the man always have the upper hand.” My ears turned red. We weren’t even married yet, and Grandma was already calling it a marriage. Greyson noticed my red ears. “Are you cursing at me in your head?” “What?” I gasped. “Whenever you curse at me, your face gives it away.” Feeling guilty, I snapped, “You think too much.” Greyson didn’t push. He adjusted the jacket around my shoulders. “Let’s go. Your grandfather is looking for you. You did great tonight, don’t ruin it by catching a cold.” Hearing him say “fiancée” made my heart skip a beat. When Julian said it, it felt like a chore. But when Greyson said it, it felt safe. Grandma whispered, “Amelia, is your heart fluttering?” I replied internally, “No.” Grandma smirked. “Sure, honey. I’m not blind.” Greyson drove me back to the Cole estate. As I reached for the door handle, he stopped me. “Are you free tomorrow?” I looked at him warily. “Why?” “My grandmother wants to meet you,” he said. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll tell her no.” I blinked in surprise. I thought he would just demand I go, but he actually asked for my consent first. Grandma murmured, “He has manners.” I thought about it. “I’ll go. Since we are engaged, it’s only right to meet your family.” Greyson nodded, adding, “My grandmother’s name is Evelyn. She’s very direct. If she says something you don’t like, just argue back. No one in the Vance family will make you swallow your pride.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Is that how your family teaches you to treat guests?” “Our family doesn’t teach people to take insult.”

Amelia’s POV His words were quiet, but they made my heart swell. When I visited the Carters in the past, everyone praised me for being “obedient.” Obedient meant waiting for Julian when he was busy, yielding to Hailey when she arrived, and letting Julian’s mother walk all over me. The next day, I prepared myself for a difficult meeting with his grandmother. Mrs. Evelyn Vance sat in the garden. Despite her white hair, her eyes were sharp. She looked me up and down. “I heard you used to be obsessed with the Carter heir?” Greyson frowned. “Grandmother.” Evelyn waved her hand dismissively. “I’m asking her, not you.” I didn’t dodge the question. “I was.” “And now?” “Not anymore.” Evelyn stared at me for a few seconds, then smiled. “Good. Loving the wrong person isn’t embarrassing. Knowing they are trash and still jumping back into the dumpster is.” Grandma Martha nodded vigorously in my head. “I like this old lady! She speaks the truth!” Greyson drank his tea, hiding a smile. For the first time, I felt like this alliance wasn’t as cold as I thought. In the afternoon, Evelyn showed me an old photo album. There were pictures of Greyson as a boy, looking grumpy in the yard, while a younger me made faces at him in the background. I was stunned. “I don’t remember this.” Evelyn chuckled. “You had just argued with him, promising you’d never talk to him again. Then you turned around and stole his birthday cake.” Greyson cleared his throat. “Grandmother, that’s enough.” I stared at the photo. It turned out Greyson and I weren’t always enemies. In the years I had ignored, he was always there, standing just a little out of my sight. As we prepared to leave, Evelyn held my hand. “If you ever feel wronged, come to me. Don’t be afraid of Greyson. He looks mean, but his heart is soft.” Greyson coughed behind us. I smiled. “I will. Thank you.” Next, I decided to go to the Carter estate to pack up my belongings. This wasn’t a sudden decision. Growing up with Julian meant I had left too many things at his house. Books, photos, gifts, a scarf I spent weeks knitting, and a necklace Julian claimed he was “keeping safe” for me. Grandma said a clean break required action. “Take everything back. Leave nothing behind. Let them know you aren’t playing games; you are truly gone.” I agreed. I didn’t sneak in. I had the Cole family driver park right at their front door and brought two movers with me. Julian’s mother came out, her smile stiff. “Amelia? Julian isn’t home. Why don’t you come in and wait?” “No need,” I said. “I’m just here to take my things. I’ll leave once I’m done.” Her smile vanished. Several Carter relatives were in the living room, whispering. In the past, I would bring them gifts and help host. Today, I didn’t even take off my shoes. Julian’s mother whispered, “Amelia, let’s talk when Julian gets back. You two have years of history. Making a scene like this is embarrassing.” I replied calmly, “I didn’t start this.” The movers went upstairs and quickly brought down several boxes. The first was full of my books, the second was old gifts, and the third had albums and the hand-knitted scarf. I touched the dark grey scarf, my fingers pausing. I had stayed up late learning how to knit because Julian said he was cold in the winter. But after Hailey returned, he never wore it once, claiming it didn’t match his style. I pulled the scarf out and threw it into the trash can in front of everyone. Julian’s mother gasped. “Amelia!” I picked up the photo album. It was filled with photos of Julian and me. I didn’t tear them; I simply took out my solo photos and left the rest on the table. “These belong to the Carters’ memories, not mine.” Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires echoed outside. Julian rushed in, his face dark as he saw the boxes. “Amelia, what the hell are you doing?” “Moving out.” “Do you have to make a joke out of us?” I looked at him. “Julian, I kept my things here because I thought I was welcome. Now I know I’m not. What’s so funny about that?” Julian grabbed my wrist. “Have you had enough of this tantrum?” He squeezed hard, aggravating my injured arm. I gasped in pain. In the next second, Greyson’s voice boomed from the door. “Let go of her.” He had arrived with his own driver. When Julian didn’t let go, Greyson marched over, grabbed Julian’s wrist, and forced him back. “She said she’s leaving. Are you deaf?” Julian grit his teeth. “This is between her and me.” “She’s my fiancée now.” Greyson’s eyes were freezing. “Before you touch her, remember your place.” I grabbed the last necklace from the table and put it in my bag. I turned to Julian’s mother. “You don’t need to save a room for me anymore.” I walked out of the house. The sun was bright outside. The boxes were loaded into the trunk. Grandma whispered gently, “This is how you leave, Amelia.” I sat in the car, never looking back. I knew Julian was watching, and I knew if I looked back even once, he would think he still had a chance. Greyson sat next to me, unusually quiet. After a long time, he asked, “Does it hurt?” I touched my bruised wrist. “A little.” “I wasn’t asking about your wrist.” I froze. The Carter estate grew smaller in the rearview mirror. I whispered, “It hurts. But I can bear it.” Greyson kept his eyes on the road. “You don’t have to keep bearing it. From now on, if it hurts, say so. If you want to scream, do it. You didn’t leave the Carters just to learn how to be quiet.” My eyes stung, and I gave a quiet nod.

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In the seventh year of my marriage to Julian Prescott, I accidentally discovered his secret. He believed in a book, and that book had written all of our destinies in advance. Serena Hale was the only heroine in the book, destined to have everything. And I was the supporting character who targeted her at every turn and ended in misery. In the book, people like me were called the vicious female side character. Julian never married me because he loved me. He only wanted to keep me under his nose and watch me for Serena. Chapter 1 Ava Bennett POV Old Mr. Prescott’s seventieth birthday banquet was held with great ceremony, and almost everyone familiar in our circle had come. I stood beneath the hallway with my daughter Annie in my hand, lowering my head to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. “Mommy, what should I say when I see Great-Grandpa later?” “Say you wish Great-Grandpa good health.” Annie clutched the hem of my shirt and answered in her sweet little voice. Serena Hale walked over right then. She wore a plain white dress, her long hair loosely pinned behind her head, looking elegant and gentle. She crouched in front of Annie and smiled as she said to her, “Annie is such a good girl, come on, can I take you to say hello to Great-Grandpa? Great-Grandpa likes obedient little kids the most.” She was holding a cup of freshly poured hot water, and white steam was rising from the porcelain cup. The water was too hot, and I was afraid it would hurt the child, so I reached out to take it. “Serena, the water is too hot, let me hold it.” But the moment my fingers touched the rim of the cup, Serena’s wrist suddenly went limp, and the entire cup of boiling water poured straight toward Annie. Almost out of a mother’s instinct, I pulled Annie into my arms and pushed Serena away at the same time. Screams rang out at once. Annie’s hand was burned bright red by the hot water, and blisters rose on her pale, tender skin in the blink of an eye. She cried in my arms from the pain, and her whole body trembled violently. Serena had also fallen to the side, bracing one hand on the floor, her eyes red and looking very frightened. The surrounding guests instantly looked over. The crowd parted, and Julian Prescott strode over. I thought he would look at Annie first. But he did not even spare a glance at his daughter, who was crying so hard her whole body shook, and instead walked straight to Serena and helped her up. He looked at Serena, his voice filled with undisguised tension. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” Serena lowered her head, tears falling in streams, and timidly hid behind him as she said in a weak voice, “Julian, don’t blame Ava, I was the one who didn’t hold it steady…” Julian patted the dust off her clothes, and only then did he turn to look at me. His eyes were dark, carrying a chilling indifference. “Ava Bennett, why did you put your hands on Serena?” Holding Annie, who would not stop sobbing in my arms, I felt as if I had fallen into an ice cellar. “Julian Prescott, Annie was burned by hot water, didn’t you see the blisters on her hand? Take her to the back and find a doctor first!” “I’ve already had the doctor wait in the lounge.” Julian stood up and looked at me, his tone calm. “But I also saw that you pushed Serena.” “She deliberately poured hot water toward Annie!” My tears finally spilled out, and my voice shook terribly. “I only pushed her away to protect my daughter! You don’t believe me?” Julian’s brows furrowed slightly. He looked at me as if I were crazy, and his voice was cold to the extreme. “Serena can’t even hold anything heavy, so what would she use to deliberately burn someone? Ava Bennett, there should be a limit to your lies.” At that moment, my heart went completely cold. “There are so many guests here today, and it’s inappropriate for you to push someone in public.” Julian looked at me coldly. “Apologize to Serena.” “I didn’t do anything wrong, so why should I apologize?” I held the child in my arms tightly, my knuckles turning white from the force. Julian stopped wasting words with me. He took a step forward, reached out with both hands, and forcibly took the child from my arms despite Annie’s crying. “Julian Prescott! What are you doing! Give Annie back to me!” I rushed to snatch her back like I had gone mad. Julian protected Annie with one arm and turned to hand the red-faced, crying child to Serena, who had just steadied herself. Serena accepted her in a bit of panic, held her in her arms, and said weakly, “Julian, this doesn’t seem right, Annie is crying…” “Serena, hold the child for now.” Julian turned back and completely blocked me two steps away. He looked at me, his voice very soft yet carrying a cruelty that allowed no refusal. “Apologize to Serena, and after you apologize, you can take Annie to the lounge in the back to put medicine on her.” Chapter 2 Ava Bennett POV I stared at the husband in front of me in disbelief. Annie struggled desperately in Serena’s arms, crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little hands reached through the empty air toward me with all their strength as she called Mommy again and again. Julian stood in front of me, his expression cold. Between my dignity and my daughter, I had never had a second choice. I dug my nails hard into my palm, and the sharp pain came from my hand, yet it was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. I lowered my head and heard my own emotionless voice. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Serena held my hand with a gentle and forgiving look. “Ava, don’t say that, today really was because I didn’t hold it steady, so don’t be angry.” Whispers came from the surrounding guests. Everyone looked at Serena with eyes full of approval, and when they looked at me, only disgust and contempt remained. Only then did Julian’s expression ease a little. He took Annie back from Serena’s arms, stuffed her back into mine, and calmly instructed, “Take her to the back and let the doctor handle it, and don’t ruin everyone’s mood.” When the banquet ended, a light rain had begun outside. Holding Annie, who had been treated with medicine and had fallen asleep from exhaustion after crying, I waited for a long time in the cold, damp underground garage. The evening wind blew over me, so cold it made people shiver. In the end, it was the old family butler who came over with an umbrella. He handed me the umbrella and spoke with some difficulty. “Madam, Mr. Prescott drove Miss Hale home, and Mr. Prescott said you should call a cab back yourself.” I took the umbrella and gave a self-mocking laugh in the cold rain. I gave up completely. I did not want to stay in this home for even one more second. I took a deep breath, took out my phone, and called Serena’s cousin, Ethan Brooks. Ethan was the only person in the Hale family who saw Serena’s true face, and he had long hated the Hale family’s hypocrisy to the bone. “The thing you mentioned last month, about taking Annie abroad to settle down and hold an art exhibition, I agree, so help me arrange it, the sooner the better, and don’t let Julian know.” On the other end of the phone, Ethan’s voice was low and decisive. “Okay, handling the paperwork and preparing the house abroad will take about a week, so wait for my message and be ready to leave anytime.” After hanging up, I took Annie home. Julian had not come back yet. I carried Annie upstairs and carefully helped her change into her pajamas. Looking at the thin gauze wrapped around the back of her hand, my heart ached again and again. I swore that I would definitely take her away from here with me. I stayed by her side until her breathing evened out, and only then did I get up to go to the study for spare cotton swabs and medicine. The study door was half-closed, and the desk lamp was still on. A sheet of paper lay flat on the desk, and Julian’s handwriting was on it. His fountain pen writing was very neat, stroke by stroke, as if he were recording some kind of daily routine. I had not meant to pry, but after just one glance, my feet could no longer move. On that page was written: [Old Mr. Prescott’s birthday banquet, Ava Bennett will deliberately push Serena down out of jealousy and try to ruin Serena’s reputation, which is the beginning of her vicious nature being revealed.] Below that line, Julian had written two words heavily with a fountain pen, and the ink was very fresh, clearly written tonight: [Fulfilled.] Looking at those two lines, my hands began to tremble uncontrollably. No wonder Julian did not even look at Annie at the birthday banquet today and decided at once that I had pushed Serena. So in his eyes, this accident was not an accident at all, but a vicious scheme I had planned for a long time. There were many more lines on the paper, and each line had a clear date marked in front of it. Some had already passed, and behind each one was Julian’s own handwritten “Fulfilled.” And some dates had not yet arrived. Under that page of paper, there was also a journal pressed beneath it. The ink on the newest line was not fully dry yet, and it was a prophecy pointing to next Thursday: [October twenty-first, Annie’s kindergarten performance, Ava Bennett will be unable to tolerate Serena getting close to the child and will attack Serena again in the backstage lounge, causing Serena’s head to be injured and bleed…] The words after that were blurred by a blot of ink, and nothing could be seen clearly. Chapter 3 Ava Bennett POV In the second half of the night, I changed the medicine on the burn on the back of Annie’s hand once. The faintly bitter scent of burn ointment slowly spread through the silent room, and I knew this smell well. When I was sixteen, I had also smelled this scent countless times. That year, my father’s art studio failed because of poor business, and in the end, it did not survive that winter. When he left, the IOUs he left behind were more numerous than his belongings. Serena’s father, Mr. Hale, held my hand and said, your dad was half my teacher, so from now on, you will live with the Hale family, and we will raise you. From then on, I was taken in by the Hale family and became sisters with Serena, though we were not related by blood. The Hale family had a very beautiful three-story villa downtown. But after living there for two years, there was still no place that belonged to me in the shoe cabinet in the living room. My pair of worn sneakers could only ever be awkwardly stuffed beside the shoebox in the farthest corner. In that house, the first thing I learned was how to be sensible. Being sensible meant being the last one to start eating at the dining table. It meant taking the initiative to stand on the very edge during holiday family photos, and it meant never making any requests. The second thing I learned was to walk through school with my head lowered. My paint tubes had been maliciously filled with glue, and the lock on my art case had been pried open three times in two months. The worst time involved the sketchbooks I had saved for three years. All eleven of them were pulled out of my locker and thrown into the trash incinerator in the backyard. By the time I arrived, only a furnace of cold paper ashes remained. Inside were all the rabbits I had drawn for my father. When my father was alive, he always laughed and said the rabbits I drew always had one ear that could never stand up. Later, I deliberately drew them that way, with one crooked ear, and it became a secret sign only my father and I understood. But they were all burned to ashes. No one at school admitted who had done it. The homeroom teacher sighed and said to me, if we can’t find out, then let it go, Ava, it’s better to have one less problem. Serena would stand beside me and wipe away tears for me, saying to everyone with red eyes, Ava, don’t be sad, I’ll give you half of my sketchbook. At that moment, everyone in the classroom looked at her with gentle eyes and thought she was like an angel. What truly made me decide to leave the Hale family was a bracelet. On the day of Mrs. Hale’s fiftieth birthday party, one of Serena’s bracelets disappeared. In the end, that bracelet was found in the inner pocket of my backpack. Even now, I still remember the way everyone looked at me back then. The room was full of guests dressed in formal clothes, and not a single person spoke. Mrs. Hale’s expression darkened inch by inch. Serena was the first to cry. She clutched Mrs. Hale’s sleeve tightly and pleaded through tears, “Mom, Ava didn’t mean it, she must have just liked it too much, please don’t kick her out, okay?” The moment that plea was spoken, my theft was completely confirmed, and I could no longer explain myself. Under everyone’s contemptuous gaze, I bowed to Mrs. Hale. “I’m sorry.” That was the first time I learned to say those three words quickly and flatly. There was a boy in the crowd who kept looking at me. That was Serena’s cousin, Ethan Brooks. He looked at me for a long time, but in the end, he said nothing and turned his head away. The day after my eighteenth birthday, I dragged the old art case my father had left behind and completely moved out of the Hale family’s house. Serena walked me to the door and stuffed a paper bag into my arms. “Ava, your things, I’ve been keeping them for you.” Inside the bag was half a sketchbook, with charred marks along the edges, looking as if its edges had been charred deliberately with a lighter. She smiled sweetly at me, revealing two harmless little dimples. “Come back and visit often.” Back then, I still thought she was truly being kind. Chapter 4 Ava Bennett POV Julian Prescott and I met when I was twenty-two. At the time, I had just moved out of the Hale family’s house and barely made a living by drawing illustrations for eight hundred dollars each. Julian was my only client. He did not bargain, and he even noticed the crooked-eared rabbit I secretly drew in the corner of my drafts. After my dad died, he was the first person in the world to notice that rabbit. In the delivery notes, he asked me, “Why can’t the rabbit’s ear stand up?” At the time, I held my phone in that freezing room and cried all night, thinking I had met the person who understood me best in the whole world. When we met at the end of the year, Julian printed out every illustration I had drawn over the past two years and neatly bound them into a book as a gift for me. On the first page, he wrote, “These drawings should not be worth only eight hundred dollars each.” Half a year later, he proposed to me and even helped me pay off all the debts my dad had left behind. On the day we got our marriage license, Julian stood at the entrance of city hall and smoothed my wind-blown hair for me. He said to me, Ava Bennett, from now on, as long as I’m here, no one can make you lower your head again. At that time, I truly thought meeting him was the best thing that had ever happened to me in my life. … Early the next morning, Julian went out, and without even thinking, I knew he had gone to keep Serena company. I had always wanted to have a proper talk with him about what happened at the birthday banquet, but he did not come back reeking of alcohol until the early hours of the morning. I tucked the blanket Annie had kicked off back over her, gently closed the bedroom door, and went downstairs. The study door was not fully closed, leaving a crack. Julian sat behind the desk, pouring wine into a glass, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair. I stood at the doorway and looked at him. “Annie’s hand is covered in blisters, and she was in pain all night and couldn’t sleep, but as her father, don’t you have even one word to say?” Holding the wineglass, he did not even look at me. “The medicine has already been applied, and children’s skin heals fast, so she’ll be fine tomorrow.” “Yesterday, in front of everyone, you snatched the child out of my arms, shoved her to Serena, and forced me to apologize in public.” I walked in step by step, my voice trembling with anger. “Julian Prescott, Annie is only three, but she is already starting to remember things.” “Serena’s wrist ligament was severely torn yesterday, and even now she can’t hold a cup steady, didn’t you see that?” He finally raised his eyes to look at me, his tone filled with impatience. “And here you are, still in the mood to worry about what Annie will think.” Just then, Annie’s cry came from upstairs, but it stopped again very quickly. I instinctively turned my head to look toward the stairs, but Julian seemed as if he had heard nothing, and his expression was terrifyingly cold. “I am your wife of seven years, and Annie is your biological daughter.” My tears finally fell, and my nails dug hard into my palm. “Why is it that every time, we are the ones who get hurt, and we are also the ones who have to apologize and admit fault?” Julian set down the wineglass, stared at me, and fell silent for a full five seconds. “Because Serena can’t take it.” He said, “If anything happens to her at all, a lot of things can’t be suppressed.” I froze completely. “Suppress what? Julian Prescott, explain yourself, what exactly can’t be suppressed?” He did not answer my question and instead stood up, picking up the suit jacket from the back of the chair. “This ends here, and from now on, don’t interfere in Serena’s matters, and don’t ask again.” “We’ve been together for seven years.” I stood there and watched as he prepared to walk past me. “Julian Prescott, do you still have me and Annie in your heart at all?” He paused at the study doorway but did not look back. “Go check on Annie.” He said, “She cried all night, so she should be waking up soon.” He pushed the door open and left, leaving me alone in the study, while the wineglass on the desk still gave off a faint smell of alcohol. The warmer I once thought his words from back then were, the more ironic they felt now. Lost and dazed, I returned to Annie’s room. Annie slept uneasily, her tiny brows tightly furrowed, and suddenly, in her sleep, she cried out a muffled sentence like a dream: “Auntie Serena said Mommy is the bad woman in the story…” When I heard that sentence, all the blood in my body slowly turned cold. Serena was already teaching my daughter to hate me. And my husband was still forcing me to bow my head to her. Chapter 5 Ava Bennett POV Someone must have filmed what happened at the birthday banquet and posted it online. My name became a trending topic. The trending hashtag was #RichWifePushesSomeoneInPublic. The comments under the hashtag were filled with all kinds of abuse and insults. Some people even dug up my number and called me directly to curse me out, so I turned off my phone. My reputation had been completely destroyed, but I did not care about that at all now, I only cared about Annie. Whenever I thought of the prophecy in Julian’s notebook, which said I would deliberately injure Serena backstage during next Thursday’s performance. I could not sleep night after night. To prevent trouble before it happened, I tried sneaking into the study to see if I could steal that notebook. But when I went there the next day, Julian’s desk was already empty, and there was a brand-new lock on the drawer, as if he were guarding against me like I was a thief. When I combed Annie’s hair in the morning, I pretended to ask casually, “Annie, has Auntie Serena ever told you stories before?” “She has.” Annie shook her little head at the mirror. “Auntie told me a princess story.” “Then in the story, is Mommy there?” When I heard that sentence, my whole body froze. Because Annie looked at me in the mirror and suddenly said to me mysteriously, “Auntie said this story can’t be told to Mommy, and Auntie said Mommy is the bad woman in the story, and later she will steal Annie’s rabbit and beat Auntie Serena to death.” I never could have imagined that Serena had already been privately feeding my daughter such vicious words. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I did not know how much they had slandered me in front of Annie, and I did not dare to think too deeply about it. On Thursday, it was the day of Annie’s kindergarten performance. I stayed by Annie’s side every second and did not stay alone with any strangers. I also deliberately chose a seat near the aisle, so that if anything happened, I could run backstage the moment I lifted my leg. But Serena still came. Holding a bouquet of flowers, she smiled and waved at me from the auditorium entrance, saying Annie had personally invited her, so she had to come. When the fourth performance was halfway through, my phone vibrated with a SnapChat message, and the profile picture and note showed it was from Annie’s teacher: [Annie’s mom, one ear on the bunny hair clip Annie is wearing fell off, and the teacher can’t find it anywhere. The spare clip is in the props storage room on the second floor. Can you go upstairs and get it for her?] Because it involved Annie going onstage, I had no choice but to get up and head to the second floor. But when I entered the empty props storage room. My heart suddenly sank, and I realized I had fallen into a trap, so I turned and ran outside. When I passed a lounge around the corner on the second floor, Serena’s voice faintly came from inside, and she was calling Ava. I ignored her completely, gritted my teeth, and ran all the way back to the first-floor auditorium in one breath. From the time I left to the time I returned to my seat, it was four minutes at most. But before the fifth performance had ended, chaos erupted backstage. Someone shouted that something was wrong, and Serena had been pushed down in the second-floor lounge and injured. Serena had fainted on the ground, her temple hit the corner of the table, and a lot of blood had flowed out. At the infirmary door, Julian had already arrived. He stood beside the stretcher, looking at me coldly, his eyes full of disgust and caution. “Today, in the hallway by the props room on the second floor during the performance, you were the only person who went there, Ava Bennett, what else do you have to explain?” I clenched my fists tightly and defended myself loudly. “The teacher sent me a SnapChat message and told me to go to the second floor to get the spare hair clip! I was deliberately tricked into going up there by them!” “The teacher’s phone has been charging at the front desk all night, and she never sent you any SnapChat message.” Julian interrupted me, his tone full of disappointment. “Ava Bennett, don’t you think making up this kind of lie to shirk responsibility is too childish?” “I’m not lying! If you don’t believe me, go check, you’ll definitely find something.” I was so anxious that I defended myself again and again. When the stretcher was carried past me, Serena, who was lying on it, suddenly opened her eyes and clutched my wrist tightly. In a voice only the two of us could hear, she smugly spat a sentence beside my ear: “Ava Bennett, no one will believe you, and without evidence, if they can’t find out, then they’ll just let it go.” The ambulance siren howled as it sped away. I left Julian behind and rushed back into the auditorium like I had lost my mind. In the center of the stage, Annie was wearing that bunny hair clip with the drooping ear, dancing while looking toward the audience with expectation. And in her father’s seat, it was completely empty, with only a bouquet of flowers no one had taken away. That night, while I held sleeping Annie, the words Serena had said to me on the stretcher suddenly exploded in my mind. “If they can’t find out, then they’ll just let it go.” Those words were exactly the same. Fourteen years ago, when I was living under someone else’s roof, it was the day after my art albums were burned to ashes in the Hale family’s backyard. In the office, the homeroom teacher had also said to me in exactly the same tone, “If we can’t find out, then let it go, Ava.” At that time, there were only two people in the office, me and the homeroom teacher.

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When Ethan Grant pushed the key card in front of me, the tape from last night’s ER visit was still stuck to the back of my hand. “Spend one night with Michael Bennett and get the contract signed.” He kept his head down, flipping through documents without even looking at me. “This is the last bit of value you have to me.” I stared at that key card, the back of my throat tasting metallic. “I had a gastric hemorrhage. The doctor said if I drink again, I could die.” Only then did he finally lift his eyes, but his gaze went right past me to the door—Nina Shaw was walking in with a hand pressed to her forehead, saying in a soft, pitiful voice that her head hurt. Ethan immediately got up and pulled her into his arms, his tone so gentle he seemed like a completely different person. “Ethan, what if she won’t go?” Nina leaned against his chest, but her eyes stabbed straight at me. Only then did Ethan turn his head. He swept me a glance like he was handing out charity. “Won’t go? If the company goes bankrupt, are you going to take responsibility?” I lowered my head and saw the white scraps scattered inside the shredder by my feet. They were my name, and Boston University. I said, “Fine. I’ll go.” I’ll go to Boston University. I’ll never stay where I am and wait for you again. 1 Stella Hayes POV In the fifth year of helping Ethan Grant build his startup. He handed me the key card to a strange man’s room and told me to exchange myself for a contract for his first love. The name on the business card was Michael Bennett. It also listed the hotel address and room number. Beside it lay an itinerary confirmation, clearly stating it was a business suite and that check-in was tonight. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted my insides, each step sending cold sweat prickling across my skin. Last night, to help Nina Shaw close a difficult channel partner, I had taken three full bottles of hard liquor on her behalf, drinking until my stomach bled and I was dragged into the ER. Clinging to the last of my strength, I placed the bloodstained ER medical record on Ethan Grant’s desk. “Ethan Grant, I had a gastric hemorrhage. The doctor said if I keep drinking, it could kill me. I really can’t go to tonight’s dinner.” My voice was so weak it was barely audible, my face pale as paper. Ethan was looking down, flipping through documents. He did not even lift his eyelids. Just then, Nina Shaw pushed the door open in high heels and walked in, pressing a hand to her forehead as she leaned against the back of Ethan’s chair. “Ethan, I didn’t sleep well last night. My head hurts so much.” Ethan immediately put down the documents, stood up, and pulled Nina into his arms. His warm palm gently rubbed her head, his voice tender enough to drip water. “How were you so careless? I’ll have the driver take you back to rest right away.” After soothing Nina, Ethan turned his head. The moment his eyes landed on me, they dropped to freezing. He did not even look at the ER medical record. He swept it straight into the trash can by his feet. “Spend one night with him and help Nina secure this contract.” Ethan fastened the custom cuff link on his wrist without even raising his eyes. “This is the last bit of value you have to me. Once this is done, Nina will have a solid foothold with the board.” The penthouse’s AC cranked down to frigid temps, the cold seeping deep into my bones. I stood quietly in front of the large desk, my fingers trembling violently, disbelief filling my eyes. “Ethan Grant, are you insane?” My voice drifted in the air, full of incredulity. “We’ve been together for five years, and now you’re asking me to keep an old man who could be my father company, just to pave the way for Nina Shaw?” Ethan finally lifted his eyelids and glanced at me. His eyes held only condescending appraisal and indifference. “You were never worth much to begin with. Why are you acting so pure? The company needs this funding right now. Nina is too delicate to handle Michael Bennett, so it has to be you.” I dragged my eyes off the business card, skimming his polished, heartless features before settling on the dark carpet beside the paper shredder. Pale scraps of paper were scattered across the floor. They were my name, and Boston University. The admission letter I had personally given up back then to stay and help him build his company now lay shredded across the expensive carpet. My eyes instantly turned red. I pointed at the mess on the floor, my voice sharp with anguish. “What about my admission letter? I gave up my education for you back then. Even if you don’t love me, why did you have to shred it? Did you have to destroy the last thing I had left to hold on to?” “It was just a piece of useless paper. Keeping it in the drawer only took up space.” Ethan gave a cold laugh, pulled a first-class ticket to New York out of the drawer, and tossed it lightly onto the business card. “Did you really think you could go back to school? Face reality. Take the ticket and fly over tonight.” I bit down hard on my lower lip until the sharp taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked at the man I had loved for five years. It felt as if an invisible hand had clenched around my heart, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I understood. My five years of love, the life I had nearly sacrificed for him, was nothing more than a joke he could sell at any moment. “Fine. I’ll go.” I reached out with pale fingers, picked up the business card and ticket, folded them in half, and mechanically stuffed them into my coat pocket. “Ethan Grant, I hope you don’t regret this someday.” Ethan withdrew his hand in satisfaction and gave a scoff. “As long as you bring the contract back, what would I have to regret?” I turned around and walked out step by step. When I passed the discarded cardboard box, I saw the photo frame he had written on himself back then. On the back, it said, Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. What an absurd joke. Expressionless, I bent down, grabbed the scraps bearing my name from the shredder’s collection bin, put them into my bag, shut the door, and left. When I got back to my place, I did not turn on the lights. I placed the business card, itinerary confirmation, and ticket on the counter by the door. Ethan Grant must have thought I had given in. I stood in the dark for a long time, then crouched down on the cold floor and opened the Notes app. I recorded everything that had happened tonight. When I typed the sentence, This is the last bit of value you have to me. At last, I let out a very low, deeply suppressed, miserable laugh. It turned out that when a person was pushed to the edge, the first thing to shatter was not tears. It was that pathetic habit of still desperately trying to make excuses for the other person. 2 Stella Hayes POV Before dawn, I called the landlord. “Mrs. Wilson, this is Stella Hayes. I want to terminate the lease. I won’t be renting for the remaining four months. I’ll pay the penalty fee in full.” My voice sounded especially hoarse in the empty living room. The landlord on the other end was a little surprised. “Why so sudden? Didn’t your boyfriend tell me last time that he wanted to rent this place for that sister of his named Nina Shaw? He also said you should move out as soon as possible.” My hand tightened around the phone, my nails digging deep into my palm. So Ethan Grant had planned to drive me out long ago, just to make room for Nina. The home I had carefully built over five years was nothing more than a hotel room that could change owners at any time in their eyes. I took a deep breath, my eyes dead still. “We’re not getting married. We never will. I’ll return the apartment to you. He can rent it to whoever he wants. We broke up.” After hanging up, my fingertips slid across the phone screen until I reached the third photo. Time rewound three years. The album stopped on an old yellowed picture. In the photo, Ethan Grant was smiling smugly at the camera. My admission letter sat right beside his hand. I gave a cold laugh, took a screenshot, walked to the bookshelf, and yanked open the dusty old document box. From the very bottom, I pulled out that familiar note. The handwriting was forceful. It said, We are one and the same. I placed the note, the discarded photo of us, and the admission letter shredded into snowy scraps side by side on the table. On the way to the company, I opened my old email. I sent a message to a friend in Boston whom I had not contacted in years. “May I ask, is the legal aid center you work at hiring lately? I want to leave this place.” The other person quickly called me on voice chat, their tone full of worry. “Stella, what happened? You gave up school for Ethan Grant back then. Why do you suddenly want to come here? The pay is low, the work is messy and heavy, and it takes a huge emotional toll. Are you sure you want to come?” Standing in the cold wind, I tightened my grip on the phone, my voice firmer than ever. “I’m sure. I’ve been drained dry for five years. Now, I want to find myself again.” After hanging up, I listed every account jointly linked to Ethan Grant in the Notes app. Automatic utility payments, the residential community group chat, the company backup email. Every time I canceled one, I marked a heavy check on the paper. When I canceled the emergency contact, a red warning box popped up, asking if I wanted to sever the relationship. Expressionless, I pressed confirm. After finishing all of that, I took out a blank sheet of paper and wrote down my next plan. Terminate the lease, resign, go to Boston. Before folding the paper into the inner pocket, I uncapped my pen and wrote one sentence hard across the back. Never give myself up for anyone again. I returned to the company’s Executive Office. The area outside the Executive Office was quiet. When Nina Shaw pushed the door open, she did not even knock. The door slammed heavily into the filing cabinet beside it with a dull thud. Nina walked in, her gaze landing on my handbag. “I lost an expensive piece of jewelry. Let me see what’s in your bag.” I looked at her coldly and yanked my bag into my arms. “These are my personal belongings. You have no right to touch them.” Nina laughed contemptuously, her voice shrill. “Personal belongings? Even you are being kept by Ethan. What personal belongings do you have? Everyone, come look. She’s acting guilty because she stole something, right?” Coworkers outside who did not know what was going on began peering in one after another. I was shaking with anger. I turned to look at Ethan Grant in the office chair. “Ethan Grant, you’re just going to let her slander me and humiliate me in public like this?” Ethan frowned slightly, impatience in his tone. “Stella Hayes, let her look. If you didn’t steal anything, what are you afraid of? Don’t waste time.” That one sentence was like a rusty, blunt knife stabbing viciously into my heart. I clenched my teeth hard, tears spinning in my eyes, but I forced them back. I released my grip and pushed the bag to the edge of the desk. “Fine. Look. Look carefully!” 3 Stella Hayes POV A flash of triumph crossed Nina Shaw’s eyes as she reached in without the slightest courtesy. She did not care about my silence at all. She turned the handbag upside down. Everything inside scattered across the floor with a clatter. All of it was exposed under the eyes of every coworker in the office area. “Oh my god, what is this piece of junk?” Nina shrieked, her high heel stomping hard onto an old pocket watch that had rolled out. It was the birthday gift Ethan Grant had bought me at a flea market during the first year of his startup, using the only three hundred dollars he had left. The glass on the watch face had cracked long ago, but I had always treasured it and kept it close to me. There was a crisp crack. The thin heel of her shoe pierced straight through the face of the pocket watch. The gears and hands inside shattered apart, completely ruined. “Move your foot!” My eyes instantly turned bloodshot. Like I had lost my mind, I lunged forward, trying to shove Nina’s foot away. But Nina took the opportunity to fall backward, letting out an exaggerated cry as she collapsed right into Ethan Grant’s arms, who had just walked out of the office. “Ethan! I only wanted to see if she had stolen anything from the company, but she actually hit me!” Nina’s eyes immediately reddened as she huddled in Ethan’s embrace, looking wronged. Ethan’s face turned livid. He grabbed my wrist and flung me away hard. I staggered a few steps. My knee slammed heavily into the hard corner of a desk, and the pain made me suck in a sharp breath. I lifted my head and looked at Ethan Grant with red eyes. “She broke the pocket watch you gave me! That was five years of memories between us!” Ethan coldly swept a glance over the pile of scrap metal on the floor. There was not the slightest trace of warmth in his eyes. “A piece of trash worth a few hundred dollars. So what if it’s broken? What’s there to make such a fuss about? If Nina had gotten hurt, could you afford to compensate her? Clean up the trash on the floor, then apologize to Nina.” I stared fixedly at the remains of the pocket watch on the floor, then looked at Ethan Grant’s heartless face. At last, I understood. What had broken was not the watch. It was the five years of my youth. Nina not only rummaged through the handover documents, she also forcefully pulled out a kraft paper envelope. Several pages of lease-termination consultation records slid out of the envelope with a rustle. Nina deliberately raised her voice. “Lease-termination consultation records. So you already knew you weren’t worth anything and were preparing to move out? No wonder you didn’t even dare enter the client’s room.” I looked coldly at this shameless pair and said icily, “Are you done looking? You didn’t find any jewelry. Shouldn’t you apologize to me now?” Nina twisted her waist and turned to leave, tossing out one sentence. “Who knows if you moved it somewhere else beforehand?” At five thirty in the afternoon, the noisy company gradually quieted down, leaving only me in the break room. Ethan Grant walked in carrying a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee and placed it by my hand. “I just didn’t want to argue in front of her earlier. It wouldn’t have looked good. Don’t be so petty. It was just a bag. Don’t take it to heart,” Ethan coaxed in a low voice. I turned off the faucet. I turned around, picked up that cup of coffee, walked to the sink, and without warning, flipped my wrist. The entire cup of hot coffee poured into the drain without a single drop left. “Ethan Grant, do you think what I poured out was just a cup of coffee?” I lifted my head, my eyes cold as ice. “I’m not petty anymore. From now on, I won’t care about any of your business. Your first love is yours to serve.” Ethan’s face darkened. “What do you mean?” “You know exactly what I mean.” I picked up my own glass cup. When I passed by him, I did not pause for even a step. 4 Stella Hayes POV The handover checklist in my hands had already been checked carefully for the third time. The door to the CEO’s office was half open. Ethan Grant’s voice came from inside as he spoke on the phone. I only heard the name Michael Bennett. After the call ended, he walked to the door and ordered me around. “Come in. We’re talking about the project.” I picked up the handbag on the corner of my desk, stood up, and walked in. Nina Shaw was sitting on Ethan Grant’s lap, playing with an expensive diamond necklace. Ethan dotingly kissed Nina on the cheek. When he turned to look at me, his eyes immediately became the way someone looked at cheap merchandise. He pulled out a black bank card and tossed it onto the desk like he was giving alms to a beggar, pushing it to the center against the tabletop. The card faced upward. The direction he pushed it in pointed right at my heart. “This is your bonus for this project. There’s one hundred thousand in it. After the deal is done, there will be another payment. This money is enough for you to spend for a long time.” I looked at the diamond necklace glittering around Nina’s neck, then at the one-hundred-thousand-dollar bank card on the desk, and found it absurd beyond words. Ethan Grant could spend millions buying jewelry for Nina without blinking. Yet with a mere one hundred thousand, he wanted to send me into another man’s bed. My eyes reddened, my voice trembling, full of despair and self-mockery. “Ethan Grant, in your eyes, what exactly am I? An object you can sell off whenever you want?” Ethan frowned, his tone stern. “Don’t be ungrateful. Plenty of people would kill for this opportunity. Nina needs results right now. You’re part of the company, so you should contribute to the company. You won’t go? If the company goes bankrupt, are you going to take responsibility?” As soon as he finished speaking, Ethan Grant’s phone suddenly vibrated. The caller ID was Michael Bennett. He answered casually and leaned back into the leather chair. The man on the other end seemed to ask about me in a frivolous tone. The corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted into a smile, and he answered without hesitation. “She’s fine with it. Arrange it however you like. She’s very obedient.” That sentence completely shattered the last line of defense in my heart. I stared at him and suddenly asked, “Ethan Grant, what if after I go to New York, I never come back?” The call had already ended. Ethan gave a cold laugh, his tone thin and cruel to the extreme. “That’s your freedom. As long as you bring the contract back, you can go wherever you want.” My gaze slowly moved up from the bank card and fixed on his face. In the end, the tears never fell. I nodded. “Okay. I understand.” Back at my workstation, I sent out the second version of the handover documents. The body of the email was clear and orderly: “As of 5:30 p.m. today, all project materials handled by me have been fully archived. Any new arrangements from this point forward do not fall within the scope of my responsibilities.” Rachel Chen walked past with a cup of water and lowered her voice, concern in her tone. “Stella, you sent this email… Are you really leaving?” I closed my laptop with a crisp snap. “Yes. I’m leaving, Rachel. Take care of yourself from now on. Don’t be as stupid as I was, throwing everything away for a garbage man.” At ten that night, the company’s HR system opened the pre-resignation application portal right on time. I filled it out very slowly. When I reached the question asking whether I would accept an exit interview, I clicked the mouse and decisively selected no. When I left the company with my bag, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a hotel location pin from Ethan Grant. After reading it, I forwarded the location to my new email with a blank expression and marked it as Evidence No. Then I deleted his chat window completely. This five-year nightmare was finally about to end.

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Ten minutes before the wedding march was set to play, I was sitting in the bridal suite, touching up my lipstick. Ethan Sterling walked in with a glass of warm water and helped me adjust my veil. “Drink some water. Don’t be nervous. I’ll take you out in a bit.” I smiled, took the glass, and asked him if his tie was straight. The moment the glass was empty, the back of my tongue went numb. I looked up at him. He had already locked the door of the bridal suite from the inside. “I asked the doctor. The dosage is safe. Three hours of sleep is all you need.” The lipstick in my hand slipped, crashing onto the skirt of my wedding dress, leaving a stark red smudge. He knelt down and tried to wipe away the stain. “Sienna is pregnant. She’s carrying Julian’s baby. She can’t handle any stress right now.” “The child needs a legitimate status. For today, she’ll wear your dress and go through the ceremony. I’ll explain everything to the guests later.” I tried to stand, but my knees buckled, and I crashed against the vanity. He caught me, his voice still filled with that same gentle, coaxing tone. “Chloe, be sensible. Once her pregnancy stabilizes, I’ll give you an even bigger wedding.” Outside the door, the officiant began calling for the bride. My vision blurred, and I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, the first words came out through my gritted teeth. “Don’t touch me.” Ethan’s sister, Zoe Sterling, was crouching in front of me, twirling my wedding ring between her fingers. “Chloe, you woke up fast.” She tossed the ring onto the floor. “And here I thought the doctor my brother hired was reliable.” I pushed myself against the wall, trying to sit up, but my wrists were too weak to support my weight. My throat was dry and numb, and my chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. “Where is this?” “The hotel basement.” Zoe smirked. “Don’t be so tense. The wedding went beautifully.” I stared at her. “Who was the bride?” “Who else? Sienna, of course.” She held her phone up to my face. The screen was playing an Instagram livestream of the reception. Sienna was wearing my wedding dress, holding Ethan’s arm, standing right under the brightest spotlight. The officiant called out, “You may now kiss the bride.” Applause erupted from the crowd like a crashing wave. My fingers slowly curled into fists. “Zoe, give me the phone.” “Why?” She pulled the phone back. “So you can crash the wedding? So you can trigger Sienna’s panic attacks?” “That was my wedding.” “Not anymore.” She tilted her head, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on an ill-fitting dress. “Chloe, you’re a nice girl. You just don’t see the bigger picture.” I let out a cold laugh. “My wedding was stolen from me, and you’re talking to me about the bigger picture?” Zoe’s face darkened. “Don’t get sarcastic with me.” “Sienna is carrying Julian’s only child. Her emotions can’t handle any shock right now.” “You’re only missing out on walking down an aisle once. She’s missing her entire future.” I looked up at her. “Her baby needs a name, so a living person like me has to be drugged and locked away?” “Didn’t Ethan say he’d make it up to you?” Zoe frowned, looking at me as if I were being ungrateful. “Why are you so hard to please?” “Make it up to me?” My throat burned, but I couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping. “Locking me in a basement, letting someone else wear my dress, take my place, and receive my congratulations—you call that making it up to me?” “Don’t make it sound so ugly.” Zoe stood up, her heel stepping right onto the train of my dress. “You were never good enough for my brother anyway.” “The Sterling family only let you in because you were quiet, obedient, and didn’t cause trouble.” “Now that Sienna is pregnant, your constant whining just makes you look incredibly selfish.” I reached for my pockets. My phone was gone. Zoe saw my movement and smirked even wider. “Looking for your phone?” She pulled it out of her designer bag and waved it in front of me. “It’s off.” “My brother foresaw all your little tricks.” I stared at the phone in her hand. “I need to call Ethan.” “Call him for what?” “He’s busy giving toasts.” “With so many guests and media out there today, he doesn’t have time for your drama.” My chest tightened. The drug from that glass of water felt like a thick film coating my throat, making my breaths short and shallow. “Zoe, I’m having an allergic reaction.” She raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Allergic to warm water?” “To sedatives.” I leaned against the wall, my voice cracking. “If it’s severe, it can kill me.” Zoe stared at me. She froze for two seconds, then burst into laughter. “Chloe, your acting is so outdated.” “Faking a life-or-death crisis the moment you wake up? No wonder you’re just a commoner trying to claw your way into high society. This drama is so cheap, like those trashy soap operas.” I forced out every single word. “Give. Me. The. Phone.” “No.” She stuffed the phone back into her bag, leaned down, and patted my cheek. “Just stay here for three hours.” “Once Sienna finishes the ceremony, Ethan will come get you.” “And honestly, if you actually die, consider it your final contribution to the Sterling family.” Footsteps echoed outside, and a bodyguard poked his head in. “Miss Sterling, they’re about to cut the cake upstairs.” Zoe immediately smoothed down her dress. “Keep an eye on her.” I grabbed the hem of her skirt. “Zoe… I am really dying…” She looked down at me and smiled. “Chloe, your biggest flaw is that you think too highly of yourself.” The door was locked shut again. I slumped against the cold wall. It felt like someone was sucking the last bit of oxygen right out of my lungs.

The bodyguard went out for a smoke, leaving my phone carelessly on the shelf near the door. I crawled over, pressed the screen to light it up, and dialed Ethan’s number. His voice came through the speaker. “Chloe, where are you?” I gasped heavily. “Basement…” “I’m having… an allergic reaction. Call a doctor.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. In the background, someone laughed and shouted, “Ethan! Sienna says the baby just kicked. Come feel it!” Ethan lowered his voice. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m not.” “My tongue is numb… my throat is swelling… my chest is tight.” “The drug you gave me contained benzodiazepines, didn’t it?” His voice grew cold. “How do you know that?” “Because I can’t touch them.” “Ethan, I told you this before.” The clinking of glasses echoed from the phone. He was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped. “I don’t remember.” I leaned against the door frame, my body sliding down inch by inch. On the day of our pre-marital physical exam, I had written down my allergy history three separate times. Ethan had sat right beside me, holding my hand, promising that he would memorize every single one of my medical triggers. But that was the same day Sienna returned from abroad after her surgery. She had posted on Instagram, saying how much she feared the smell of hospital disinfectants. That very night, Ethan bought out half a flower shop to fill her hospital room. My medical report was carelessly stuffed under the car air freshener. I asked him, my voice trembling. “Do you remember now?” Ethan’s voice sounded impatient. “Chloe, today is an exception.” “Sienna almost fainted earlier. The doctor said she can’t handle any shocks.” “I asked Zoe to keep you in the basement because I was afraid you’d do something reckless.” I let out a choked laugh. “Afraid I’d be reckless, so you drugged me?” He lowered his voice. “The dosage was very light.” “The doctor said you would sleep for three hours at most.” “You’re awake now, which means you’re fine.” “I will die.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Ethan, I am really going to die.” He sighed. “Every time you’re unhappy, you exaggerate things to the extreme.” “Just bear with it a little longer. Wait for me.” “We still have the family toasts and reception. Once it’s over, I’ll come down.” I gripped the phone, begging. “I can’t wait… right now…” He cut me off, his tone still patronizingly gentle. “Chloe, Sienna saved my life.” “When I got into that car accident years ago, she was the one who dragged me out of the wreckage.” “Now she’s pregnant with my late brother’s child. I can’t let her be humiliated in front of everyone.” I froze. “The person who saved you… was her?” “Who else would it be?” “Please don’t start arguing with me about this now.” I clutched my chest, a bitter smile gracing my lips. Ethan’s voice softened a bit. “Chloe, you’re quiet again.” “I know you feel wronged.” “But don’t blow this out of proportion.” “I’ll explain everything to you after today.” “Just bear with it.” I leaned against the door, black spots starting to swim in my vision. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “If I die, will you regret this?” He paused. “Don’t say such jinxed things.” Someone called out to him in the background. “Groom, the toasts are waiting!” Ethan immediately answered them. The line went dead. The bodyguard came back, snatched the phone away, and cursed. “Still trying to stir up trouble, huh?” I opened my mouth, but only a raspy, broken breath came out. The bodyguard glanced at me and sneered. “Miss Sterling said you’re a good actor.” “Don’t actually play dead on me.” I wanted to tell him I wasn’t acting.

When Zoe returned, she was holding a half-empty glass of champagne. The bodyguard stood at the door, whispering, “Miss Sterling, her face looks really off.” Zoe cast a casual glance at me. “If her face looked perfectly fine, how could she play the victim?” I slumped against the wall, my breathing turning into rapid, shallow gasps. “Epinephrine…” I raised a trembling hand, pointing toward my bag. “My EpiPen… inside pocket.” Zoe looked down and rummaged through my bag, indeed pulling out a blue injection pen. She held it in her hand, her expression turning smug. “Oh, look at that. You even brought props.” “Give it… to me…” “Just because you asked?” She raised the EpiPen high out of my reach. “Chloe, admit one thing first.” I stared at her. “Admit what?” “Admit that you’re just jealous of Sienna today.” Zoe crouched down, her voice low and venomous. “Admit that you’re faking this illness just to ruin her big day and steal her spotlight.” “I’m going to record a video.” “That way, when Ethan asks, I’ll have proof to show him.” A raspy, bitter laugh escaped my throat. “You Sterlings are truly experts at stabbing someone and expecting them to thank you for the blade.” “Still stubborn, I see.” She opened her phone camera and aimed it at my face. “Come on, say it.” “Say that Sienna is kind and generous, and you’re just a petty, jealous bitch.” I closed my eyes. “No.” Zoe pressed the EpiPen against the edge of the table, slowly pushing down. “If you don’t say it, I’ll break it.” The bodyguard gasped. “Miss Sterling, is that thing really life-saving medicine?” “She says it is, so it is?” Zoe sneered. “Does she know better than a doctor?” “My brother asked. The sedative dosage is perfectly safe.” “Besides, even if something does happen, it’s just her own weak constitution trying to blackmail the Sterling family.” I forced my eyes open, my vision already blurring. “Zoe.” “What?” “Does your brother know how incredibly stupid you are?” Her face twisted in anger. With a sharp crack, she slammed the EpiPen onto the floor. The blue plastic casing shattered, and the liquid medicine seeped out onto the concrete. In that exact moment, the final string of hope inside me snapped. Zoe looked at the spilled medicine and lifted her chin proudly. “Don’t look at me like that.” “My brother hates it when you make that face.” “As if the whole world owes you something.” I stared at the shattered EpiPen and whispered, “There are only three hundred of those custom-formulated pens in the world.” “Who are you trying to scare?” “It’s a custom-made prescription. The serial number is printed on the inside of the casing.” I looked up at her. “What you just destroyed wasn’t just a pen. It was evidence.” Zoe froze for a moment, then laughed contemptuously. “Evidence?” “You’re just an orphaned, penniless designer. You think you can sue the Sterling family?” “Has my brother spoiled you so much that you forgot your own place?” I didn’t bother to explain. Because explaining was useless. A massive cheer suddenly erupted from upstairs. The wedding was reaching its finale. Zoe checked her phone, her smile returning. “Sienna is about to toss the bouquet.” “Guess who she’s going to throw it to?” I said nothing. She answered her own question. “Me, obviously.” She stood up and walked toward the door. The bodyguard hesitated. “What about her…?” “Keep her locked in.” The door slammed shut. I dragged myself toward the shattered EpiPen, dipping my finger into the tiny puddle of remaining liquid, and pressed it against my outer thigh. The dosage was nowhere near enough. The precious little air left in my lungs was still slipping away. I reached into the hidden pocket of my wedding dress. Sewn inside was a thin, metallic signal transmitter. Before my grandmother passed away, she had slipped it into my hand. She had said, Chloe, you don’t have to return to the Lockwood family. But you must keep yourself alive. I had laughed back then, thinking she was being dramatic.

Zoe’s voice drifted in through the crack under the door. She was on the phone. “Ethan, she’s still putting on a show. She’s complaining that I broke her little rescue pen.” Ethan’s background was incredibly noisy—people clinking glasses, shouting “congratulations!” He asked, “How is she?” “She can talk, she can crawl, she’s full of energy.” Zoe laughed. “I think she just wants to steal Sienna’s spotlight.” Ethan was silent for two seconds. “Don’t rile her up.” “I’ll come down as soon as I take Sienna back to her room.” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to bang on the door. The sound was incredibly faint, like fingernails scratching against wood. “Ethan…” The hallway went quiet for a second. Zoe brought the phone closer to the door. “Chloe is calling for you.” Ethan’s voice softened. “Chloe, I’m listening.” I pressed my forehead against the cold door. “Tell them… to open the door.” “I can’t… breathe.” “I really can’t… hold on much longer.” Ethan sounded thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. “Chloe, today is our wedding day.” “Do you have to force my hand today?” “Force your hand?” “Do you have any idea how many people are upstairs right now?” His words came faster. “The press, our relatives, our business partners.” “If you crash the reception now, what happens to Sienna?” “She’s carrying my brother’s baby.” “My brother’s last wish was for me to take care of her.” “So I should just die in the basement?” My voice was so faint it was almost non-existent. The other end of the line went completely silent. A few seconds later, he said, “No one is asking you to die.” “I’m just asking you to wait.” “Why can’t you ever put yourself in my shoes, just this once?” Leaning against the door, I suddenly found it hilarious. When his stomach ulcer flared up, I drove across the city in the middle of the night right before a major design deadline to get his medicine. When his mother looked down on my background, I swallowed my pride at the dinner table, pretending not to understand her sharp barbs. After Sienna returned, he abandoned me at movie theaters, restaurants, and anniversary hotel rooms over and over again. I had always put myself in his shoes. But in the end, he wanted me to give up my very life. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “I regret it.” He paused. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying you.” The other side of the phone felt like it had been abruptly muted. Zoe was the first to explode. “Chloe, are you insane? My brother marrying you is the best thing that ever happened to your pathetic life!” Ethan suppressed his anger. “Chloe, don’t say things in anger.” “I’m not angry.” I pulled the signal transmitter out of my wedding dress. “I also regret saving your life.” Ethan’s voice instantly turned freezing cold. “What did you say?” Zoe burst into laughter. “Oh, here we go. The ‘life-saver’ drama again.” “Are you going to claim Sienna stole your entire life next?” I ignored her. The transmitter had only one button. My fingers were shaking violently. It took me three tries to finally press it down. Ethan’s voice was still coming through the speaker. “Chloe, Sienna is the one who saved me.” “Everyone in the Sterling family knows that.” “Don’t insult her with these desperate lies.” I smiled faintly. “Fine.” “Then I hope you and your savior grow old and gray together…” Ethan’s breathing grew heavy. “You’re becoming completely unreasonable.” I could barely hear him anymore. My ears were filled with the rushing sound of blood pounding against my eardrums. Outside, Zoe murmured impatiently. “Just hang up, Ethan. Sienna is looking for you.” The call was cut off. The bodyguard kicked the door from the outside and tossed my phone back in through the gap. “Stop acting.” “When Mr. Sterling comes down, you can explain yourself to him.” I didn’t have the strength to reply. I picked up the phone and dialed a number. A number I had deleted but remembered for years. On the third ring, the call connected.

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I bought three window AC units for my family with my very first paycheck. But when I pushed the front door open after a grueling shift, my bedroom still felt like an absolute oven. Instead of the cool breeze I had paid for, there was nothing but a massive, heavy watermelon sitting on my mattress. My mom patted the thick green rind, looking incredibly pleased with herself. “I moved the AC units into Zack’s and Serena’s rooms. There was an extra one, so we put it in Serena’s art studio. You can just sleep with this cold watermelon tonight, Chloe. It’ll cool you down just fine.” My mouth opened, but the tight, suffocating pain in my chest choked back any words. She had completely forgotten. Only last month, I had been rushed to the ER with severe heatstroke. When I was discharged, the doctor explicitly warned that I couldn’t be exposed to extreme heat again. I turned my head toward the art studio at the end of the hallway. The crisp, cool air was practically leaking through the crack of the door. My dad was adjusting the easel light for my sister, Serena. My brother, Zack, was holding a plate of freshly sliced cold watermelon, feeding it to her piece by piece. And Luke, my boyfriend of three years, was holding the remote, carefully adjusting the AC vent for her. “Let’s angle the airflow upward, Serena. We don’t want you catching a cold before your big exhibit.” I wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead, looked at the ridiculous watermelon on my bed, and suddenly, the urge to fight just evaporated. I pulled out my phone and replied to the text from my manager: “You mentioned that transferring to the San Francisco branch would fast-track my promotion to a permanent role. I accept.” Having survived twenty-two suffocating summers in this house, I was finally ready to give myself a spring that would never end.

I locked my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and walked toward the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water. Just then, the art studio door clicked open. Luke walked out, holding Serena’s empty glass. Seeing me standing in the hallway, he paused. “Chloe, you’re home.” “Yeah,” I mumbled, brushing past him to reach for the pitcher. Luke followed me into the kitchen, setting the glass down on the marble countertop. “Your mom told you about the AC units, right?” “Serena is prepping for that major digital art exhibition. Her studio can’t get too warm, or her tablet overheats and her hand gets too sweaty to draw properly. It affects her flow.” “So you gave her the AC I bought.” I raised my glass and took a tiny sip. “It’s just for a few days,” Luke tried to explain. He reached out to touch my sweaty forehead, but I tilted my head, dodging his hand. His hand froze in mid-air before he awkwardly shoved it into his pocket. “Your room does get a lot of sun, but if we put the outdoor unit outside your window, it would face Serena’s bedroom. The noise would keep her up. She’s a light sleeper, Chloe. You know that.” Of course I knew. The entire family knew Serena was a light sleeper, had a sensitive stomach, and couldn’t handle being too hot or too cold. That was why she got the master bedroom, while I was tucked away in the suffocating corner room. “Yeah, I know,” I said, putting my glass down. Luke let out a sigh of relief, a small smile finally appearing on his face. “I knew you’d understand. You’re always the mature one.” He reached out to ruffle my hair. “Tomorrow’s the weekend. I’ll take you to Target to get a cooling gel mattress pad, and we’ll buy a nice, quiet tower fan to make up for it.” “No need.” I took a step back, escaping his touch. Luke’s hand froze again. “Chloe, don’t be petty.” His tone hardened slightly. “This exhibition is a massive deal for Serena’s career. As her sister, is it really that hard to show some support?” “I am supporting her.” “I said no to the fan because I really don’t need it.” Luke stared at me for a few seconds, trying to find any sign of silent resentment on my face. But my expression was completely blank. “I’m covered in sweat. I’m going to take a shower.” I turned and walked out. Behind me, the heavy thud of his glass slamming onto the counter echoed through the kitchen. I walked back into my oven of a bedroom. The giant watermelon still sat on my bed, its skin glistening with condensation. I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside sat a sky-blue handheld fan. Carved into the plastic handle were five letters: Chloe. During our sophomore year of college, the dorm AC broke during a heatwave. Luke had run through five different blocks in the blazing heat just to find this for me. I traced the carved letters with my thumb. My fingertips turned white. I held the fan, about to put it back in the drawer, when my door was suddenly kicked open. Zack barged in, holding a plate of watermelon. The heavy wooden door slammed right into my elbow. Crack. The sky-blue fan slipped from my fingers, hitting the hardwood floor. The plastic casing shattered into pieces, and the tiny fan blade popped out, rolling uselessly under the bed. Zack glanced down at the mess. Without a shred of remorse, he stepped right on the broken plastic, crushing it further. He dumped the plate onto my desk. “Chloe, Serena said you had a long day at work, so she wanted me to bring you some watermelon.” There were only three soggy, pale green rinds left on the plate, with barely any red flesh on them. “Thanks.” I didn’t look at the plate, keeping my eyes fixed on my laptop screen. Zack glanced at the shattered fan, then at the giant watermelon on my bed, and cleared his throat. “Look, about the AC… don’t take it personally.” He scratched his head. “I’ll get my bonus next month. I’ll buy you another one.” “Sure.” I closed the tab on my screen. Zack blinked, caught off guard. He probably expected me to decline, just like I always did, sacrificing my own comfort just to get a hollow compliment about how “selfless” I was. But this time, I just accepted it. “You’re… not mad?” he asked, sounding unsure. “No.” I stood up. “I’m just tired. I want to sleep.” Zack smiled, clearly relieved. “I knew it. You’ve always been the reasonable one.” He patted my shoulder. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the weekend, I’ll take you out for some good food.” “Okay.” I nodded quietly. He turned and left, shutting the door behind him. The suffocating heat immediately rushed back to wrap around me. I picked up the leftover watermelon rinds from my desk and dumped them straight into the trash can. The red juice dripped onto the broken fan pieces. It looked almost like blood. I didn’t bother cleaning it. I just pulled out my suitcase and started packing my clothes. I didn’t need to wait for next month. Because by next Wednesday, I wouldn’t be in this house anymore.

The next morning was Saturday. Early in the morning, the hallway was buzzing with noise. My mom was frantically looking for Serena’s designer dress, and my dad was busy polishing his shoes. “Chloe, hurry up and get dressed! Luke booked a private room at that fancy French place downtown. We’re celebrating the smooth prep for Serena’s gallery show!” My mom knocked sharply on my door. I pulled it open, only to see her holding a delicate silk shawl that belonged to me. It was a special gift from my college mentor, who had brought it back from Paris. I had kept it wrapped in tissue paper, never once wearing it. “Serena said the restaurant’s AC might be chilly, so she’s borrowing this shawl.” Without even waiting for my reply, my mom draped the silk over Serena’s shoulders. “Fine,” I said, turning toward the bathroom. By the time I finished getting ready, Luke’s car was already waiting downstairs. The family walked down, laughing and chatting. I trailed behind, watching Zack eagerly open the passenger door for Serena. Just as I reached for the rear door, Luke rolled down his window. “Chloe, can you sit in the back?” he said, his hands resting casually on the steering wheel. His tone made it sound like the most natural request in the world. My hand froze on the handle. The front passenger seat already had Serena’s custom orthopedic pillow resting on it. “Serena’s feeling a bit dizzy today. If she sits in the back, her motion sickness might flare up,” Luke explained. “Sure.” I pulled my hand back, opened the back door, and slid in next to Zack. The car’s AC was blasting. Serena wrapped my silk shawl tighter around herself, turning to smile sweetly at Luke. I leaned back against the seat, watching his tender profile in the rearview mirror. I remembered when I used to get motion sickness. Luke would always just tell me to suck it up because we were almost there. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of taking care of someone. He just didn’t want to take care of me. At the restaurant, the hostess led us to a private booth. Luke pulled out the chair right next to his. Serena slid into it naturally. “Chloe’s boyfriend is so incredibly attentive! We can definitely rest easy knowing she’s in good hands,” Serena teased with a playful giggle. I didn’t say a word, walking straight to the empty chair in the far corner. When the menus were handed out, everyone took turns ordering. My mom ordered a table full of expensive seafood—all of Serena’s favorites. “Chloe, what do you want?” my dad asked casually. “I’ll have the lamb chops,” I said, looking at the menu. “Oh, absolutely not. Serena is highly allergic to lamb,” my mom immediately cut in. “Okay,” I said, closing the menu and handing it back to the waiter. Under the table, Luke gently nudged my knee with his. I pulled my legs back, avoiding his touch entirely. He turned his head to look at me, lowering his voice. “I’ll take you out for your favorite tacos tonight. Just the two of us, okay?” “No, thank you.” I kept my eyes on my water glass. “What is your problem now?” His voice carried a sharp edge of irritation. “Everyone is happy today. Stop ruining the vibe with that long face.” Looking at his furrowed brows, memories from not too long ago flooded my mind. Before I brought Luke home to meet my family, I had been terrified. I was terrified he would be like everyone else, unconditionally choosing my sister, who had spent her entire life stealing the spotlight. I had cried as I told him my fears. He had laughed softly, calling me a silly girl, and promised he would always, without exception, stand by my side. He gave me the courage to bring him into my life. And then, he took that balloon of courage and popped it with his own hands. The food arrived quickly. Serena suddenly looked across the table at me. “Chloe, about that illustration project for Luke’s company… I still have a few final drafts to finish up.” “Are you free this weekend? Could you help me finish the line art?” Instantly, all eyes at the table locked onto me. Whenever she took on freelance gigs she couldn’t handle, she would dump the grueling prep work onto me. The credit went to her, the paycheck went to her. “I’m busy.” I kept eating, not even looking up. The table went dead silent. “Chloe!” My mom’s face darkened. “You’re just lounging around the house anyway. What’s wrong with helping your sister out?” “It’s my weekend,” I said, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “And I have my own work. I need to put in overtime.” “Your stupid little internship?” Zack sneered. “Serena’s project is a major campaign for Luke’s company. If she messes this up, can you even afford to pay for the damages?” I put down my fork and looked at Luke. He was the project manager for this campaign. Luke avoided my gaze, taking a slow sip of his water. “Chloe, the deadline is really tight.” “You draw fast. Help Serena out a bit. Consider it a personal favor to me.” Looking at him, a sudden wave of dark humor washed over me. This man was supposed to be my boyfriend. Yet here he was, asking me to help another woman as a “favor.” “I said, I’m busy.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. Serena’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “It’s fine, Luke. If Chloe doesn’t want to help, I’ll just pull an all-nighter. I can finish it.” “With your health? You can’t pull an all-nighter!” Zack snapped, turning to glare at me. “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you? Is this still about the stupid AC yesterday?” “Fine. Put the AC back in my room, and I’ll help her draw.” For the first time in my life, I spoke my mind. The air in the room turned ice-cold. “You think you’re so tough now that you have a job? How dare you hold a grudge against your own family!” My dad slammed his palm onto the table. “I’m full. Enjoy your dinner.” I stood up, walked out of the private room, and wiped away the tear that slipped down my cheek. As soon as I stepped out of the restaurant, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email from the HR department in San Francisco. They were reminding me to fill out the onboarding paperwork and send it back by next Tuesday. I pulled up the keyboard and typed: “Received. I will submit everything shortly.” I looked back at the closed doors of the restaurant. No one had run out after me. Instead, a text from Luke popped up: [You were incredibly immature today. Your parents are furious, and Serena was crying. I’ll set up another dinner later so you can properly apologize to them.] I didn’t reply. I deleted our entire chat history. Three years of messages, gone in a second. There wouldn’t be a next time. And the apology he wanted? He would be waiting for eternity.

On Monday morning, I emailed my signed transfer agreement back to HR in San Francisco. By Monday afternoon, I was packing my desk when my phone started vibrating. It was Luke. “Chloe, where are you right now?” His voice was hoarse, thick with a panic he couldn’t hide. “At the office.” I wrapped a picture frame in bubble wrap and put it in a box. It used to hold a photo of the two of us. Just a minute ago, I had shredded the photo along with some old files. “Get home as soon as you can. Something terrible happened.” “The final illustrations Serena submitted… the client’s legal team flagged them for blatant plagiarism.” I didn’t stop packing, tearing off a strip of tape to seal the box. “Oh,” I said dryly. “The client’s legal team sent a formal cease-and-desist. They’re demanding massive damages and a public apology.” Luke’s voice grew heavier. “I have to go. Just get home right after work.” The line went dead. I looked at the black screen, slipped my phone into my pocket, and carried my box toward the elevator. When I opened the front door to the house, the living room lights were off. Only the dim orange glow of the streetlights filtered in through the balcony. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Serena sat in the middle of the couch, burying her face in her hands, weeping softly. My mom was rubbing her back, while my dad sat with a grim scowl. Zack was pacing back and forth, looking highly agitated. Luke sat in an armchair, a half-burned cigarette dangling between his fingers. His face was pale. The moment she saw me, my mom stood up and rushed over. “Finally! You’re back!” She grabbed my wrist, her grip so tight it pinched my skin. “Your sister is in deep trouble. You have to take the fall for her!” I yanked my hand back, setting my bag down on the entryway table. “Take the fall? How?” I looked at her. “Luke said that if someone steps forward and claims those specific illustrations were just personal practice drafts leaked by a freelancer, the company can shift the blame away from Serena.” “Your sister is a famous artist. Her reputation cannot be ruined by a plagiarism scandal!” “And?” Looking at their desperate faces, my heart felt colder than ice. Zack stopped pacing and glared at me. “So you’re going to sign the confession!” His tone was entirely matter-of-fact. “You’re just an intern anyway. The worst they can do is fire you. Once the drama blows over, you can just find another job.” I turned my eyes to Luke. He kept his head down, watching his cigarette ash drop onto the rug. “Is this your idea too?” I asked him. Luke looked up, his eyes darting away guiltily before hardening. “Chloe, the client just wants a scapegoat. If you sign the liability waiver, I’ll compensate you under the table. I’ll even pull some strings to get you a new job.” I stared at the man I had loved for three years. To save his precious Serena’s career, he was completely willing to throw my entire professional future under the bus. “If I sign that, my reputation in this industry will be permanently ruined,” I stated, my voice dead calm. “Who cares about your stupid reputation!” Zack snapped, losing his patience. “Your pathetic little salary is barely worth keeping anyway. Do you have any sense of family loyalty?” “Chloe, your sister has always been fragile. She can’t handle this kind of blow,” my dad added, his voice heavy. “We raised you, we paid for your life. It’s time for you to pull your weight for this family.” I stood there, watching this absurd theater. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. It had gone completely numb. When people start talking to you about “family loyalty,” it usually means they’ve already decided you’re the one who needs to be sacrificed. I let out a soft, mocking laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “And what if I refuse?”

I didn’t stay to watch their ugly reactions. I walked straight into my room and locked the door. Outside, they pounded on the wood, shouting curses and accusations. I put on my noise-canceling headphones, blocking them out completely. I spent the night in that sweltering, airless room. The physical toll of my previous heatstroke chose that exact night to flare up again. My head spun so badly I could barely stand. My throat felt bone-dry and cracked. I finally unlocked my door, intending to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. The moment I stepped into the living room, I saw Serena, her eyes swollen like plums, clinging to my mom. “Mom, forget it. Stop forcing Chloe.” “I’ll take the blame. It doesn’t matter if my career is over or if I go to jail… just pretend you never had me as a daughter.” “Don’t say that!” My mom squeezed her tight, her eyes turning into daggers as she glared at me. “As long as I have a breath in my body, I will not let anyone ruin you!” My dad slammed his fist on the table. “Chloe Miller, if you don’t sign that paper today, pack your bags and get the hell out of this house!” Zack rushed over, slapping the water glass right out of my hand. Smash. The glass shattered, sending sharp shards flying across the floor. “If you don’t help Serena, you aren’t leaving this house to go to work today!” “Why should Serena’s career be ruined while you get to act like nothing happened?” “If she can’t draw, you don’t get to work either. That’s only fair!” I gripped the doorframe, looking at my brother. It was laughably absurd. For twenty-two years, no one in this house had ever used the word “fair” when it came to me and Serena. I had cried and demanded fairness once. My mom had simply looked at me and said: She had only planned on having two kids—Zack and Serena. A perfect pair. But then I was an accident. My existence ruined her perfect family aesthetic. So I had no right to ask for fairness. Yet now, they were demanding “fairness” from me. I laughed out loud. But tears slipped down my cheeks anyway. My dry lips split, letting a metallic taste of blood seep into my mouth. Luke was gently pressing an ice pack against Serena’s swollen eyes. He didn’t even look at my pale, trembling face. “Chloe, think carefully.” “If you don’t sign, not only are you not leaving this house today, but I will make sure you are completely blacklisted from this industry.” “But if you sign, we can go back to how things were. I’ll even find a position for you in another company.” I lowered my eyes, hiding my trembling hands behind my back. I swallowed the blood in my mouth, forcing myself to look defeated and broken. “Fine. I’ll sign.” My voice came out hoarse and cracked. “But I need to go to the office first. I have to submit a formal leave of absence, and then I’ll meet you at Starry Media.” Hearing me finally break, the tension in the room instantly vanished. My mom let out a cold sniff. “Good to know you still have a shred of conscience.” Zack stepped back, letting me pass. “See? If you had just been this reasonable from the start, we wouldn’t have had all this drama.” I turned back to my room. I caught a glimpse of the rotting watermelon sitting in the hot corner of my room. I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. An Uber was already waiting for me downstairs. On the way, Luke sent me a Snapchat: [Carter, the Legal Director of Starry Media, is here. When you get to the conference room, don’t say anything stupid. Just sign the paperwork, and I’ll take you to that nice French place tonight. I’ll even order a brand-new, silent AC unit for your room.] But now, the French dinners… The AC units… The family, the boyfriend—I didn’t need any of it anymore. When the Uber arrived at the high-rise, I didn’t go up. I pulled a thick manila envelope from my backpack. I handed twenty dollars to a courier in the lobby and asked him to deliver it directly to the top floor. The recipient: Carter, Legal Director of Starry Media. Then, I got back into the Uber. “Change of destination, please. To the airport.” As the car merged into traffic, I opened Luke’s chat. [The package you wanted has been delivered.] I tapped send, and without a second of hesitation, blocked his number. Then, I left the family Snapchat group. From this moment on, I was running toward a spring that belonged entirely to me.

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Seven months into my pregnancy, Ethan Carter handed me a cup of boba tea. I took a huge, unsuspecting gulp. An agonizing burn, like liquid fire, instantly seared my throat. It was ghost pepper syrup. I coughed so violently that I couldn’t even stand straight. The sudden, intense pressure made me lose control, and warm fluid began trickling down my thighs. My pale maternity dress was instantly ruined, damp and stained, as drops fell onto the polished tiles of the shopping mall. Amelia Rose, Ethan’s little assistant, suddenly ran out from behind a pillar and threw herself into Ethan’s arms. “See? I told you pregnant women have no bladder control. A few coughs and she leaks everywhere.” “Ethan, you lost the bet. You have to take me to the movies tonight.” “Besides, Clara is in such a messy state now, you probably don’t even have the appetite to touch her, right?” Ethan caught her by the waist, a lazy smile on his face. “Fine, I admit defeat.” Amelia leaned against Ethan’s shoulder, looking at me with a sweet, mocking smile. “Let’s bet again. Do you think Clara is going to cry?” Ethan turned his head to look at me. He didn’t try to cover my stained dress. He didn’t stop the onlookers from filming me with their phones. He just smiled and said, “I bet she will. She cares about her pride more than anything. She won’t last three minutes.” The two of them walked into the elevator, laughing and whispering, leaving me standing alone under the mocking, curious stares of the crowd. I didn’t cry. I just pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Late that night, hundreds of bodyguards surrounded Amelia’s apartment complex. I pressed a cold dagger against her cheek and smiled softly. “Want to make a bet, Amelia?” “Let’s guess if my next cut will be on your pretty face, or straight through your heart.”

Amelia stared at the blade pressed against her cheek, trembling as she shrank back into her chair. “Clara Vance, don’t do anything crazy!” “There are security cameras everywhere here! If you touch a single hair on my head, Ethan will never forgive you!” Even now, she was still trying to use Ethan to threaten me. I pressed my wrist down slightly. Amelia screamed and shut her eyes tight. The blade scraped past her ear, cutting off a lock of her hair. “Relax,” I whispered. “I always pay my debts. I’m just playing a little game of my own.” “Let’s bet on how many cups of ghost pepper water it will take for you to cough and wet yourself.” I signaled my bodyguards to open the cardboard box on the table. Inside were dozens of cups of prepared ghost pepper water. “You had your fun with me this afternoon. Now, we’re going to play the exact same game.” “Drink.” Amelia clenched her teeth, refusing to open her mouth. Just as a bodyguard forced a cup toward her lips, Ethan’s furious voice roared from the doorway. “Stop!” He pushed past the bodyguards blocking the entrance and rushed inside. Seeing Amelia pinned to the chair, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He pulled her into his arms, shielding her. “Clara, what the hell is wrong with you?” The moment Amelia saw him, her tears fell like rain. “Ethan, I was just playing a harmless prank on Clara this afternoon.” “But she brought all these people to corner me. She even threatened me with a knife.” She pointed to the lock of hair on the floor. “If you had come any later, she would have ruined my face.” Ethan stared at her for a long time, making sure she wasn’t actually hurt, before finally turning his cold gaze to me. “Amelia went a bit too far this afternoon, I admit that.” “But did you really have to make such a big scene?” “You’re healthy. A little coughing fit won’t kill you.” “Amelia has a weak stomach. Drinking this stuff will actually put her in the hospital.” So he remembered Amelia had a weak stomach. But he completely forgot that I was seven months pregnant, and my doctor had repeatedly warned me to avoid anything spicy or irritating. I didn’t bother arguing with him. I only asked one question: “Did you tell her about my pregnancy incontinence?” Ethan fell silent for a few seconds. “I only mentioned it casually once,” he muttered. “How was I supposed to know she would turn it into a bet?” When I was three months pregnant, I leaked for the first time because of a sudden sneeze. Back then, I had locked myself in the bathroom, too embarrassed to even open the door. Ethan had stood outside, gently comforting me for an hour. Later, he carried me to the bed and changed the sheets himself. He told me there was nothing to be ashamed of between husband and wife. He promised me, “This will be our little secret. No one else will ever know.” But now, even his little assistant could use my deepest embarrassment as a joke to humiliate me. Amelia hid behind his back, pretending to be innocent. “Clara, don’t get the wrong idea.” “Ethan was just worried about your postpartum recovery, so we talked about it.” “I even looked up pelvic floor physical therapy for you.” I looked at her coldly. “Was posting that video on Snapchat also to help me recover?” Amelia’s face stiffened for a second, but she quickly sneered. “I only sent it to a few friends in a group chat.” “They were the ones who shared it online. It’s not my fault.” She held her phone up to my face. The video of me in the mall had already been shared tens of thousands of times. The comment section was filled with vile laughter mocking my body and my stained dress. Someone had even made a GIF of my humiliated expression. Ethan glanced at the screen. “The internet has a short memory,” he said dismissively. “The trend will die down in a few days, and no one will remember.” He said it so easily. Because he wasn’t the one filmed in his most vulnerable moment. He wasn’t the one being laughed at by tens of thousands of strangers online. I ordered my bodyguard to pour another cup of ghost pepper water. “I won’t make things difficult for her.” “Drink this, delete the video, and make a public apology on Instagram.” “Then, we’ll call it even.” But Amelia didn’t reach for the cup. Instead, she gently touched her lower abdomen. The crying, pitiful girl from seconds ago was gone, replaced by a smug, victorious look. “I can’t drink this.” “The doctor said pregnant women should avoid spicy things.” I thought I had misheard her. “What did you say?” Amelia pulled a prenatal report from her designer bag and unfolded it in front of me. “I’m pregnant. The baby is Ethan’s.”

I stared at the medical report, completely speechless. Amelia seemed highly satisfied with my reaction. She wrapped her arm around Ethan’s, intentionally pressing her belly against him. “Clara, don’t be mad.” “I never wanted to take your place as Mrs. Carter.” “But don’t be too controlling. My baby will still need to see their father often in the future.” Ethan didn’t push her away. Instead, he looked down at her gently and murmured, “The doctor told you not to stand for too long. Go sit on the sofa.” He helped Amelia to the couch and ordered my bodyguards to take the pepper water away. Only after making sure there was nothing in the room that could harm her did he turn his attention back to me. His tone was incredibly calm, as if we were discussing a minor business deal. “Once, when I accompanied you to your prenatal checkup, Amelia wanted to play a game. She dared me to kiss her in the hospital hallway to see if you would catch us.” “We got carried away, and I lost control.” “But I never planned on divorcing you. I won’t let her threaten your position as my wife.” He even walked over and gently adjusted my coat for me. His touch was as warm as it had always been. But the words coming out of his mouth were ice cold. “Clara, we both grew up in this upper-class circle.” “Which man in our circle doesn’t have a few women on the side?” “Keeping a quiet, obedient mistress to relieve stress is completely normal.” “You were raised to be a perfect society wife. You should know when to make a scene and when to look the other way.” I stared at him, suddenly remembering the Ethan from many years ago. Back then, Ethan hated nothing more than the so-called “rules” of high society. His father had kept countless mistresses outside. His mother had spent her entire life clinging to her title as Mrs. Carter, yet she didn’t even get to see her husband one last time before she died. On the day of her funeral, an eighteen-year-old Ethan had knelt in the grief hall all night, his eyes bloodshot. The next morning, he had held my hand and promised: “Clara, I will never, ever become a man like my father.” When he was twenty-two, the Carter family tried to force him into an arranged marriage with another heiress. Ethan had flipped the tea table right in front of both families’ elders, grabbed my hand, and walked out of the Carter estate. Behind us, dozens of relatives roared in anger, and a fleet of luxury cars blocked the driveway. He didn’t even look back. That night, the Carter family froze all his credit cards and repossessed all his properties. With only a few hundred dollars left in his pocket, he had looked at me and laughed: “What’s there to be afraid of?” “Even without the Carter family, I can still give you the best life.” And he had kept that promise. When he proposed, he rented a private island. Hundreds of drones formed my name in the night sky over the ocean. The pink diamond on my engagement ring was bought at a Geneva auction for a staggering nine-figure sum. On the eve of our wedding, he had signed a Prenuptial Agreement with an Infidelity Clause right in front of all his family elders. The agreement clearly stated: If he ever cheated or fathered a child with another woman during our marriage, all his shares in the Carter Group, his family trusts, and his offshore assets would be transferred entirely to my name. At that time, everyone tried to persuade him not to sign it. But Ethan had handed me the pen, his face glowing with absolute confidence. “Sign it, Clara.” “I’ll never give you a chance to use it anyway.” I had believed him with all my heart. So, when the Carter Group’s capital chain broke, I convinced my father to use the Vance family’s funds to bail him out. When he was attacked by the board of directors, I handed him all of the Vance family’s voting rights. The day Ethan secured his position as the sole heir of the Carter Group, he held me tight and said: “Everything I have now was given to me by you.” “In this life, you will be my only wife.” Now, he still ruled the Carter Group. But he had finally become the very monster he used to despise.

Seeing that I remained silent, Ethan assumed I had finally accepted the reality. His voice softened. “Once the baby is born, I’ll buy Amelia a house in another city and give her a generous allowance.” “She won’t ever show up in front of you.” “You will still be Mrs. Carter, and our child will be the only legally recognized heir to the Carter fortune.” Amelia leaned back on the sofa, gently caressing her stomach. “Clara, Ethan still loves you the most.” “I’m happy enough just having him visit me once in a while.” She sounded so submissive. But the smugness in her eyes was glaring. They probably thought I would be just like Ethan’s mother, swallowing all the humiliation just to keep up appearances. I smiled slightly and turned to my bodyguard. “Call the legal team in.” “Trigger Clause 7 of the Prenuptial Agreement.” The moment I finished speaking, a dozen lawyers walked into the room. Leading them was Robert Davis, who handed a set of documents directly to Ethan. “Mr. Carter.” “Miss Rose’s prenatal report is sufficient proof of your infidelity, which violates the terms of the Prenuptial Agreement.” “As of this moment, your 37% shares in the Carter Group are officially transferred to Miss Clara Vance.” “Furthermore, the Vance family’s financial funding to the Carter Group is officially terminated.” Ethan’s phone immediately began to ring loudly. It was the Chairman of the Board. Even from a distance, I could hear the panicked roaring on the other end. “Ethan! What the hell did you do?” “The Vance family just pulled all their investments! The bank is calling in our loans!” “The board is demanding an emergency meeting to suspend you immediately!” Ethan gripped his phone, his face draining of all color. “Clara, we’ve been together for so many years.” “Are you really going to ruin everything I’ve built over a stupid little mistake?” I looked at him and laughed. “Ethan, didn’t you say you wanted to keep a mistress?” “I’m leaving her to you.” “As for the house, and the money you wanted to use to support her…” I snatched the keys to his luxury penthouse right out of his hand. “They are all mine.” “From today on, I am leaving you with absolutely nothing.” I turned to walk out. Behind me, Ethan finally lost his cool, desperately calling my name. I didn’t look back. At the door, I cast one last look at Amelia. “Congratulations,” I said. “This completely broke man is all yours now.”

But just as I stepped over the threshold, Robert Davis called out to me. “Miss Vance, wait.” His tone was heavier than I had ever heard it before. “We just checked the marriage registry database.” “There is no record of a marriage registration between you and Mr. Carter.” I froze in my tracks. “What do you mean?” Robert glanced at Ethan, his expression grim. “It means the marriage certificate you hold is fake.” “Mr. Carter’s only legal wife, from the very beginning, has been Amelia Rose.” I slowly turned around. The last trace of panic on Amelia’s face had vanished. She pulled two marriage certificates from her bag and waved them at me with a triumphant grin. “Clara, did you really think I was just Ethan’s hidden mistress?” “The pathetic, unregistered side piece has always been you.” I stared at the date on the marriage certificates. Three years ago, June 17th. The exact same day Ethan and I had supposedly gotten married. On that day, after we got our certificates, I had cried tears of joy in Ethan’s arms. Ethan had kissed away my tears and told me: “Clara, from this day on, we are legally husband and wife.” But it had all been a lie. Amelia giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, by the way, I made a bet with Ethan that day too.” “I bet him that you trusted him so much, you wouldn’t even realize the officiant he hired was a fake, and you’d never check the registry database.” “I told him if you found out, I would leave him forever.” “But if you didn’t notice, he had to go to the real City Hall and marry me.” She flipped open the certificate. “And guess what? You didn’t notice a thing.” “While you were happily going home with your fake certificate, Ethan came to pick me up. We made it to City Hall right before they closed and registered our real marriage.” I looked at Ethan. “Is what she’s saying true?” Ethan avoided my eyes, looking guilty. “It was just a bet, Clara.” “I didn’t think things would turn out like this.” It was just a bet. Because he lost a bet, he handed my rightful title of wife to Amelia. And because I trusted him blindly, I lost my entire marriage without even knowing it. Amelia patted her stomach, her smile growing sweeter by the second. “Ethan even said that day that you were so easy to fool. A little hug, a quick kiss, and you’d never think to double-check.” “Clara, you’ve been a fool for three whole years.” “And now you want to use a Prenuptial Agreement to take his shares? Don’t you find that hilarious?” Robert Davis rapidly flipped through the agreement, his face turning pale. The very first clause of the prenuptial agreement stated: This agreement shall only take effect upon the date of legal marriage registration by both parties. But Ethan and I had never been legally married. Which meant whether he cheated or got Amelia pregnant, the agreement was completely invalid. I couldn’t touch a single share of his 37% holdings. Ethan finally looked up, adjusting his collar. The confidence returned to his eyes. “Clara, it’s not too late to stop this.” “Tell the Vance family to restore the funding and stop pressuring the board.” “I can overlook the fact that you broke into this apartment with a mob tonight.” “In the future, you can move to the suburban villa. Just focus on having the baby and stop causing trouble.” I stared at him. “And if I say no?” Heavy, synchronized footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. Several police officers walked through the door. Amelia immediately threw herself into Ethan’s chest, crying hysterically while pointing to her head. “Officers, it’s her!” “She broke into my home with hundreds of men, held a knife to my face, and tried to force me to drink toxic liquids!” “I’m pregnant! She wanted to murder me and my baby!” Ethan held her tightly, looking at the police. “Officer, Clara Vance has been mentally unstable lately.” “She caused a scene at the mall this afternoon, and now she’s bringing armed men to my home.” “I’m genuinely terrified she will hurt my wife and our child.” Wife. He could finally call Amelia his wife, openly and proudly. The officer looked at the dagger in my hand, then at the bodyguards filling the room. “Miss Vance, we’re going to need you to come with us to the station for questioning.”

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