Category: English

Thirty minutes before the private jet was scheduled to land, the air suddenly grew turbulent. The red wine in Damian’s hand sloshed, and the deep crimson liquid spilled down the side of the glass onto his custom-tailored trousers. His fiancée, Tiffany, gasped, recoiling with a look of distaste. She pointed at me, snapping, “Are you completely incompetent? Can’t even hold a glass steady? Hurry up and clean it for Damian!” I immediately knelt on the thick leather carpet, a warm towel in hand. My head bowed, my trembling fingers reached towards the legs of the man I’d once spent countless nights with. A soft, contemptuous chuckle came from above me. The next second, his icy fingers pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. “Crystal, you used to be so high and mighty. Now, for money, you’ve certainly mastered the art of kneeling.” I lowered my gaze, avoiding his scrutinizing stare. “Damian, I’ll cover the cleaning fee for your trousers, of course.” “Cleaning fee?” He slowly unbuckled his belt. “Since it’s my private jet, my rules go.” He leaned in close to my ear, his voice low, a demonic whisper. “You weren’t cleaning pants when you were in this position before.” 0

Crystal POV The hand holding the towel froze in mid-air. The air in the cabin seemed to solidify. Tiffany watched from the side, a hint of displeasure in her eyes. She probably hadn’t heard Damian’s whisper, likely just assuming he was scolding a clumsy flight attendant. I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions within me. In the past three years, the most important thing I’d learned was to endure. “Mr. Damian, you’re joking.” I lowered my head, continuing my task, dabbing away the wine stain on his trousers with the towel. Through the expensive fabric, I could feel the tension in his thigh muscles. I guessed it was a physiological reaction of extreme aversion or extreme restraint. “Tiffany is right, I’m clumsy.” As I wiped, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the newly opened bottle of red wine. Romanee-Conti. He used to only open it for me on anniversaries. Now, he was splashing it around like water. Damian didn’t speak again, just watched me coldly. His gaze was like that of someone looking at a dog begging for scraps. Seeing his silence, Tiffany seemed to think he was still angry. To appease him, she turned and snapped at me again. “Clean it properly! These trousers are custom-made. If you damage them, you couldn’t pay for them even if you sold yourself!” I dutifully replied, “Yes, Tiffany.” Of course, I knew I couldn’t afford them. All my possessions combined now probably couldn’t buy one toilet seat on this plane. After wiping away the last bit of wine stain, I prepared to stand up. Damian suddenly extended a foot, stepping on the hem of my skirt, which was on the carpet. My movement to rise halted, and I almost lost my balance and fell onto him. I clumsily steadied myself, still kneeling. “Damian?” I looked up, puzzled. He leaned back in his seat, his long fingers idly tapping the armrest. “If it’s an apology, is just cleaning it enough?” He pointed to the bottle, still half-full. “This wine isn’t breathing enough; I don’t like the taste.” “Since Crystal is a professional, why don’t you help me ‘wake’ the wine again?” Tiffany looked confused. “Damian, wasn’t this wine just ready?” Damian ignored her, his eyes locked on me. “With your mouth.” 0

Crystal POV I froze in place. “To ‘wake’ the wine with your mouth” – it was humiliating slang in this line of work, or perhaps a game for lovers. When we were together, he’d played that game at home. But now, we were thousands of feet in the air, in front of his fiancée. He wanted to strip away my last shred of dignity and stomp on it. “What? Not willing?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “I hear you’re really desperate for money now? That you’ll do anything for cash?” “If you ‘wake’ this bottle of wine properly, the tip for this trip will be doubled.” Doubled. Those two words pierced my ears like needles. I thought of my brother, still lying in the hospital, and that bill, like a death warrant. Pride means nothing when you’re fighting for survival. I slowly reached out and grasped the cold bottle of wine. “Alright, Damian.” I pulled out the cork, tilted my head back, and took a mouthful of wine. The liquid warmed in my mouth, its bitter taste spreading. I leaned over, approaching the empty stemmed glass, and slowly poured the wine from my mouth into it. The red liquid formed a thin stream, falling into the bottom of the glass. Tiffany let out a short gasp, seemingly startled by the sensual yet humiliating scene. “Oh my god, how disgusting.” She covered her mouth, a look of repulsion on her face. I ignored her, taking a second, then a third mouthful. Each sip felt like swallowing broken glass. Damian just watched, his expression shifting from playful mockery to deep intensity, finally settling into a cold, dead stillness. It wasn’t until half the bottle was in the glass, and I felt a little tipsy, my cheeks flushed. “Enough.” He suddenly spoke, his voice chillingly flat. I stopped, a drop of red wine still clinging to the corner of my mouth. He suddenly stood up, sweeping the wine-filled glass away. With a crash, the crystal glass shattered against the cabin wall, breaking into pieces. Red wine splashed everywhere, just like the bloodshot eyes I’d seen in the rain-soaked night when I’d left him. “Get out.” He pointed to the galley outside the cockpit, his tone violent. I clumsily wiped my mouth, lowered my head, and stumbled out. The moment I closed the cabin door, I heard him tell Tiffany inside, “Don’t let me see such filthy things again.” 0

Crystal POV Hiding in the narrow galley, I leaned against the cold metal cabinet door, gasping for breath. My hands were still trembling. My stomach was churning; the after-effects of half a bottle of red wine were kicking in. I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to keep myself sober. Crystal, you can’t cry. If you cry, you lose. When you walked away with fifty million, you should have known this day would come. That fifty million? I didn’t spend a single cent on myself. It all went into that bottomless pit. But I couldn’t say anything. If I did, Damian, that lunatic, would tear his whole family apart. Back then, he was on the precipice of securing control of his family’s empire; any wrong move would shatter him. So, I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the vain, mercenary, and treacherous woman. Just then, the intercom in the galley rang. I jumped, hesitated, but picked it up. “Crystal, Damian wants you back in.” It was Tiffany’s voice, tinged with schadenfreude. “He said you haven’t finished your ‘special services’.” I closed my eyes, then opened them, and hung up. I straightened my disheveled uniform and forced a standard professional smile into the mirror. Whether he wanted to hit me or curse me, I had to take it. As long as he paid. 0

Crystal POV Pushing open the cabin door, Tiffany was no longer in her seat. The entire passenger cabin held only Damian. He had unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, revealing his sculpted collarbone, and held an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Seeing me enter, he tilted his chin, signaling me to approach. “Where’s Tiffany?” I asked instinctively. “She went to sleep.” He impatiently tossed the cigarette onto the table. “Come here, take off my shoes.” I walked over and knelt at his feet. This seemed to be my standard posture when facing him. I reached out to untie his leather shoes. His feet were large. In winter, I used to love tucking my cold feet into his embrace for warmth. Now, my hand had barely touched his ankle when he kicked it away. The force wasn’t great, but the humiliation was extreme. “Why are your hands so rough?” He frowned, his gaze falling on my hands, covered in small cuts. Those were from recently washing dishes for a part-time job. “You never used to do menial tasks, did you?” “What, did that billionaire go bankrupt? Can’t even afford a housekeeper, making you do the work yourself?” The “billionaire” he referred to was a sugar daddy I’d made up. To make him give up on me, I’d told him I was with a billionaire ten times richer than him. I lowered my head, continued untying his shoelaces, my voice steady. “People have to live, Damian.” “Live?” He scoffed, then suddenly bent down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up. His excessively handsome face was close to mine, his breath fanning my face. “Crystal, when you took that fifty million, didn’t you say you were going to live a good life?” “Is this the ‘good life’ you chose? Being a flight attendant, serving drinks, kneeling to clean pants?” His eyes held a deep, ingrained hatred. “Yes.” I met his gaze, smiling carelessly. “The money ran out, so I had to come out and earn more.” “If Damian feels sorry for me, why not write me another check?” At that, the fury in Damian’s eyes exploded. He violently flung my hand away, with such force that I slammed against the cabin wall. “Dream on.” He pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it directly in my face. Green bills fluttered down, hitting me, then scattering across the carpet. “That’s your tip from before.” “Pick it up.” He pointed to the money on the floor, his eyes dark and menacing. “Pick up every single bill.” “When you’re done, go to that room and clean yourself up.” “Tonight, I’m going to ‘inspect the goods’.” 0

Crystal POV I squatted on the floor and began picking up the money. One bill, two bills, three bills… My movements were slow, but deliberate. Each bill I smoothed out, folded neatly, and placed in my inner pocket. This money would buy my brother two more days in the ICU. Damian stood nearby, looking down at me. I guessed he wanted to see me break down, see me crying and begging, or perhaps throw the money back in his face, like I used to. Unfortunately, the Crystal of today had only knees, no spine. After picking up the last bill, I stood up and bowed to him. “Thank you for the reward, Damian.” With that, I turned and walked towards the room he indicated – the only luxurious suite on this plane. Closing the door, I leaned against the doorframe, and my body finally began to tremble uncontrollably. “Inspect the goods.” Was he trying to humiliate me, or did he genuinely want… I dared not think deeper. The phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated. It was a text message from the hospital. “Crystal, your brother’s account balance is less than two thousand. Please renew the payment as soon as possible, or some life-sustaining equipment will be disconnected.” Two thousand. Not even enough for one day’s expenses. I clutched the phone, my knuckles white. That small tip was just a drop in the ocean. I had to get more. If one night with him could buy my brother’s life-saving money, then so be it. After all, this body used to be his too. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Hot water poured over me, but it couldn’t wash away the bone-deep chill. After showering, I emerged wrapped in a bathrobe. Damian hadn’t come in yet. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking out at the clouds. It was pitch black, nothing to see, just like my future. I don’t know how much time passed, but the doorknob turned. Damian walked in. He had taken off his suit jacket, wearing only a black shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He held a glass of wine, carrying the faint scent of tobacco. He hadn’t turned on the main lights, leaving only a dim bedside lamp. The light and shadow cast on his face made his features appear even more defined and sharp. “Cleaned up?” He walked to the bed, placed the wine glass on the nightstand. His gaze swept over me. That look wasn’t like someone looking at a woman; it was like someone looking at an item for sale, waiting for its price. I nodded, then actively untied the sash of my bathrobe. If I was selling, I had to embrace the role. The bathrobe slipped, revealing a silk slip dress underneath. Damian’s pupils contracted sharply. I guessed he remembered; this slip dress, he had given it to me three years ago. I’d kept it, and today, on a whim, I’d worn it underneath. “This dress…” He reached out, his fingertips touching my collarbone, so cold it made me shiver. “Still wearing it?” “Because it’s cheap and durable.” I lied. “Is that so?” He scoffed, his palm sliding down my waistline, finally stopping at my lower back, pulling me abruptly closer. I was forced to press against him. “Crystal, is that billionaire tired of this body of yours yet?” “I heard rich men like to play kinky games; he didn’t break you, did he?” His words were crass and piercing. I bit my lip, forcing a seductive smile, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Damian wants to try, doesn’t he?” “As long as the money is right, I’ll do any position.” The words had barely left my lips when I felt his muscles tense. The next second, as if he’d touched something foul, he violently pushed me away. I fell onto the bed, a little dazed. “Disgusting.” He spat the word through clenched teeth. “You think you’re worthy of my touch?” He turned, picked up the wad of money I’d just collected, and flung it onto the bed. “Take your money and go sleep on the couch.” “Don’t soil my bed.” 0

Crystal POV I hugged the blanket, curled up on the couch in the outer room. The inner room door was tightly shut. That night, I slept restlessly. My dreams were filled with old memories of Damian and me. Back then, he was still a rebellious rich kid. To pursue me, he’d once arranged 999 roses beneath my apartment, getting chased by security guards. Later, when his family faced trouble, his father became critically ill, and there was internal strife within the family for control. He was pushed to the brink, almost facing prison. That evidence of money laundering? I had forged it myself, and I had personally handed it to Marcus, his sworn enemy. Everyone thought I had betrayed him. Only I knew that if that evidence wasn’t handed over, the true black ledger would be exposed. Damian would not only lose everything but also face massive debts and prison time. And Marcus had promised me that if I did this, he would spare Damian’s life and give me money to save my brother. I had no choice. I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the greedy, treacherous woman. When the plane landed, it was early morning in London.Misty, cold, and damp. I packed my things, ready to disembark and leave. This trip was over. It was time for me to get out. Just as I reached the cabin door, the pilot stopped me. “Crystal, please wait.” The pilot looked serious, handing me a document. “What’s this?” I had a bad feeling. “This is your new contract,” the pilot explained. “The management company for this aircraft was acquired by Damian’s company yesterday. Damian specifically requested you as his personal flight attendant and butler.” I glanced at the contract. Term: Lifelong. Penalty for breach: Ten million. It was practically an indentured servitude contract. “I won’t sign it.” I pushed the contract back. “I’m resigning.” “You can resign.” Damian’s cold voice came from behind me. He descended the air stairs, coat on, followed by the ever-present Tiffany. “You can resign, but first, pay the ten million breach penalty.” He walked up to me, looking down. “Can’t afford it?Then behave yourself.” “From today, you are Damian’s dog.” “Bite whoever I tell you to, and when I tell you to kneel, you don’t stand.” Tiffany chuckled, covering her mouth. “Damian, you’re too mean! How can you say that about Crystal? She’s your old flame, after all.” “You think you’re worthy of mentioning the word ‘flame’?” Damian shot her a cold glance, scaring Tiffany into immediate silence. He turned back to me, his eyes glinting with a perverse playfulness. “Get in the car, Crystal.” I didn’t know where he was taking me, but the look in his eyes triggered a primal fear in me.

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The night of my father’s funeral, I was kidnapped. They forced me to film an eight-hour sex video. The next day, that video spread through the entire town. My fiancé Ryan immediately canceled our wedding. The girls’ academy also terminated my teaching position. When I was drowning in despair, my fiancé’s uncle, Marcus, proposed to me. I grabbed onto that single ray of light in the darkness. Until six months after the wedding, one night I overheard Marcus talking with his friend: “Marcus, it was you who hired those men to kidnap Claire six months ago, wasn’t it? For Lily’s sake, don’t you think you went too far?” “I had no choice. Only by destroying Claire’s reputation could Lily get Ryan and secure the teaching job at the academy. I can’t protect Lily for her entire life, so I could only clear the obstacles in her path.” “You have no idea how the men in this town look at Claire now. They want to assault her right on the spot.” “Don’t worry about it!” Marcus said. His friend gasped in shock: “Marcus, have you lost your mind?! Have you even watched that video?! Claire was tortured by three men for eight hours straight. She was covered in blood!” “Enough! Don’t you think I know how much Claire is suffering? But that’s all in the past now. These are just rumors and gossip.” A chill seeped from my ears into every crack of my bones. I pressed my hand tightly over my mouth and stumbled away from the scene. The moment I stepped out of the hotel entrance, someone grabbed my waist. A group of drunk men leered at me with disgusting smiles: “Isn’t this the slut from the video? She looks so proper and uptight usually, who knew she was such a whore in private?!” One of the drunks even started tearing at my clothes right there in public. “Name your price!” I fought desperately to break free, but how could I resist a group of men? Soon, my outer shirt was ripped apart. The crowd erupted in waves of lewd laughter again. The terror from six months ago swept over me once more. Just when I thought the nightmare was about to repeat itself, Marcus’s familiar voice suddenly came from behind me. “You bastards! How dare you touch my woman?! Do you have a death wish?!” As soon as he finished speaking, a group of bodyguards surged forward from behind Marcus. They beat those drunks until they were wailing on the ground. I trembled and shrank into the corner, watching this man who had once again saved me from hell. But aside from fear, there was no warmth left in my heart. Marcus saw me huddled in the corner. He came over and draped his coat over my shoulders, his eyes full of heartache. “I’m sorry, Claire. I shouldn’t have let you come pick me up so late. This is my fault. Trust me, time will heal everything. People will gradually forget about that video. I’ll stay by your side every step of the way…” On the way back, Marcus held my hand and wouldn’t let go. After a long while, perhaps thinking I had fallen asleep, Vincent, who was driving, let out a long sigh. “Marcus, you need to find someone else to do these things in the future. I really can’t bring myself to do it anymore. If you had come out two minutes later, her clothes would have been stripped off in public!” Vincent’s words struck me like a thunderbolt. So those drunks at the hotel entrance were also planted there by Marcus in advance. Marcus gently moved me aside, then grabbed Vincent by the throat and growled in a hoarse voice, “Shut your mouth! If you let Claire find out, your wife and kids will die!” Vincent frantically apologized. Marcus gently pulled me back into his arms, planted a soft kiss on my forehead, and murmured to himself: “Claire, just bear with it a little longer. I’ll make it up to you for the rest of our lives…” But this inhuman torture— I really couldn’t endure it anymore. That night when we got home, after watching Marcus fall asleep, I secretly went to the study and wrote a letter to my aunt, who taught at the drama academy.

Early the next morning, as soon as I woke up, I heard Marcus instructing Vincent: “Today is the opening ceremony at the girls’ academy. After Claire wakes up, do whatever it takes to get her to go.” “But she doesn’t like crowds, and there will be so many people at the opening ceremony—” “It’s not your place to tell me what to do!” Marcus snapped. A few minutes later, the bedroom door was pushed open from outside. A pair of familiar hands ruffled my hair. “Claire, today is the opening ceremony at the girls’ academy. Our family foundation sponsored many students, so I need to attend. You rest well at home.” I forced a smile and agreed. Not long after Marcus left, Vincent looked at me eating breakfast and stammered, “Mrs. Marcus, my son said when you substitute taught at their school, lots of kids really liked you. Today is the opening ceremony. The children would definitely love to see you…” “I’ll go, Vincent. Let’s get ready and leave.” When I arrived at the venue and saw Lily’s provocative gaze, I knew why Marcus had insisted I come. When it came time for the new teacher representative to speak, Lily took the microphone and looked at me like a dagger. “Today, my speech topic is self-respect and dignity. Now I’ll play a educational video for everyone…” As soon as Lily finished speaking, my piercing scream echoed across the entire campus. On the giant screen that Marcus had just donated to the girls’ academy—three stories high— the video of my assault was now playing. Three long whips struck my naked body in turns. The messy, blood-stained bed made it clear to anyone what had happened. That piercing pain swept over me again. Before I could recover, a slap landed on my left cheek. A student’s mother next to me pointed at my nose and cursed: “How dare a woman like you show your face at a girls’ academy?! Look at how slutty you are in that video! Absolutely disgusting!” Then my hair was grabbed forcefully. I was dragged from my chair to the ground. Angry curses rang out above my head. “Your dad gave his life to secure this job for you, and you threw it away because you’re a slut! Your mom was so shocked she died clutching your dad’s ashes. How do you still have the face to live in this world! You should have died with them!” “A whore who sleeps with everyone! You’re the shame of our town! You should be tortured to death by men!” I collapsed on the ground, letting countless fists and feet rain down on me. “Claire, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened. That video must have been swapped…” Lily stumbled toward me, helping block people’s attacks while apologizing non-stop. But beneath her guilt-ridden eyes was clearly the triumph of a plan well-executed. The Lily family was a wealthy household known throughout town. With such status, plus being a teacher at the academy, naturally no one dared provoke her. After they stopped, Marcus came running over in a panic from behind. Seeing me, he immediately embraced me. “Claire, why did you come? Didn’t I tell you to stay home and wait for me?” Marcus was such a good actor. If I hadn’t heard those words with my own ears, I would have fallen for his tenderness again and again.

Everything I experienced at the school made me break down again. My eyes were empty, unconsciously rejecting anyone’s touch. Marcus looked at me with heartache written all over his face. Eventually I was injected with a sedative and taken away in an ambulance. When I woke up again, it was completely dark outside. The pungent smell of disinfectant made me realize I was still in the hospital. My whole body was bound with restraints. In a daze, I heard Marcus’s familiar voice outside the hospital room. “Lily, seeing Claire like this, are you satisfied now?” “I am. Ryan dated her for eight years. If I didn’t use extreme measures, I was afraid they’d rekindle their old flame. It’s just hard on you, having to spend your life with such a woman. Every time I think about it, my heart aches for you. In this life, because of my family situation, I can’t marry you…” Through the foggy glass door of the hospital room, I saw Marcus pull Lily into his arms. His hoarse voice carried the bitterness of unrequited love: “No… Lily, you don’t owe me anything… I’m doing all this willingly for you. Now that you’re carrying my baby, that’s already the greatest blessing for me. Besides, Claire treats me well. You don’t need to feel guilty…” The man and woman outside the room kissed passionately. Mixed with their desire was the man’s low, choked voice. He really loved her so much. They even had a child together. Old wounds tore at my heart, sending waves of piercing pain. Large tears fell from my eyes. So from beginning to end, I was the one who was unnecessary… I forced myself not to listen to the intimate sounds from outside the door, but those sounds wrapped around me like a curse, driving me mad. I buried my head in the blanket, my teeth biting the corner so hard they left traces of blood. I lost track of how much time passed. The hospital room door was slowly pushed open from outside. A wave of perfume hit my nostrils. Before I could react, a pair of slender hands pinched my chin. “Claire, don’t be nervous. It’s me, Lily…” Hearing the woman’s name, I struggled desperately in the darkness, trying to break free. She laughed softly and helped untie the restraints binding my body. “Claire, who seemed so proud and unyielding, turns out to be such a pathetic waste after all. Of the two men in the Marcus family, with just a flick of my finger, either one would abandon you and run to me. Especially Marcus—he’s truly sacrificed so much for me…” “Such an upright man, yet to give me the teaching position at the academy, to fulfill my marriage, he personally drove his mentor to death, and personally sent his mentor’s daughter into other men’s arms. Tell me, what kind of love is that?” “When your dad died, he stupidly begged Marcus to take good care of you. And your pathetic mom probably still thought Marcus was your family’s savior! So foolish! Your dad’s ashes were scattered by Marcus’s own hands!” Lily’s words struck me like lightning. I had always thought my father committed suicide because he couldn’t cope. I never imagined it was Marcus who drove him to death. My father was Marcus’s mentor, who gave everything to teach him all his life’s knowledge. How could he bring himself to do it… I used all my strength to spring up from the hospital bed, gripping Lily’s throat tightly. But before I could apply pressure, the hospital room door was violently pushed open from outside. Seeing it was Marcus, Lily immediately ran to him crying. “Marcus, I just felt sorry for Claire and wanted to help untie her restraints so she could move around. But she insisted I stole everything from her and tried to strangle me like a madwoman!” Before I could explain, Marcus came forward and slapped me across the face. “Claire! Everyone around you has been good enough to you! What the hell are you making a fuss about?! You failed to grasp everything yourself—why blame Lily?! Crazy woman!” After saying this, he ignored me collapsed on the floor and left with Lily in his arms. The moment the hospital room door closed, Lily turned back and smiled at me with contempt. She was right to mock me—I was worthless. But they seemed to forget one thing: Even a cornered rabbit will bite…

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In the building’s WhatsApp group, Marcus Stone, the property manager, suddenly posted several messages: 【”Beauty Chic Rent-Free Offer”】 【All single female residents in this building are eligible for full rent waiver with this voucher.】 【Terms: Must perform all household duties for male residents, including but not limited to hand-washing undergarments.】 【Must keep bedroom doors unlocked overnight to facilitate “emotional connections” with male residents.】 【In the event of unintended pregnancy, all male residents will crowdfund baby formula and assist with childcare.】 The messages were followed by repulsive comments from male tenants: 【Marcus is such a legend—this’ll help the ladies save up for those designer purses.】 【Girls these days are too lazy to do chores anyway—this’ll be good exercise for ’em.】 An agreement treating women like communal property and posted openly in the group chat? I screenshotted everything and immediately called 91 I never expected that right after the police left, Marcus’s goons would kick in my door. “Think you’re better than everyone else? Ruining the building’s vibe, huh?” My belongings were scattered everywhere. My undergarments were kicked all the way down the hallway. “Since you refuse to cooperate, you’re the new janitor! Get your ass to the storage closet. Every toilet in this building is your responsibility to scrub!” After I’d dutifully cleaned the toilets for weeks, the property manager came crawling back, begging me to move back into a proper unit. 1. “Claire Bennett, I’m offering you a second chance.” He blew smoke rings in my face. “The storage closet doesn’t have windows, but at least it’s private. I’ll waive your rent if you keep the bathrooms spotless daily.” The male tenants nearby snickered and catcalled. “Marcus is such a stand-up guy, still letting her crash here.” “Women like her who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut deserve to be homeless.” The speaker was Derek Walsh from apartment 302. His leering gaze always made my skin crawl. I crouched down and picked up my belongings one by one. My hand brushed against the shattered perfume bottle. Blood started oozing from the cut. I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t shed a tear. Showing vulnerability now would only egg them on more. “What’s the matter? Got something to say?” Seeing me stay silent, Marcus kicked over my storage bin. My underwear spilled across the floor. Derek picked up a lace bra, held it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. “Fancy brand too. Smells just like a little slut.” “Give that back to me!” I lunged forward to grab it back. Derek tossed the bra to the guy behind him. They tossed my intimate clothes around like a game, cracking crude jokes the whole time. “Want it back? Beg for it.” Marcus blocked my way. “Marcus, this is an illegal eviction.” I locked eyes with him. “I have a signed lease agreement. It’s legally binding. I still have six months left on it.” “Agreement?” Marcus pulled my lease out of his pocket and ripped it to pieces. “In this building, I make the rules.” “Either you move into that storage closet, or get the hell out with your garbage right now.” “But let me warn you—no security deposit refund. And I’ll make sure every landlord in this neighborhood knows you’re a destructive tenant who trashed the unit.” I work as an auditor. This is crunch time for my current project. I can’t afford to hunt for a new place right now—it would derail my work completely. If I leave now, both my professional reputation and career could be ruined. “Fine. I’ll take the storage closet.” Marcus looked surprised that I caved so easily. “Should’ve just cooperated from the start.” “Everyone clear out. Let our new cleaning lady tidy this mess properly.” They left snickering, leaving total chaos in their wake. I gathered my trampled clothes and walked toward the storage closet at the end of the hallway. The door had no lock—just a rusted latch. Inside were stacks of discarded cardboard boxes. The air smelled like mildew and rot. This was going to be my “home.” I pulled out my phone and stared at a familiar profile picture. Ryan Cooper. We went to college together. He lives in this building too. Earlier, he’d stood at the back of the crowd, saying absolutely nothing. I texted him: 【Why didn’t you say anything?】 After a long while, he finally responded: 【Claire, you overreacted. Marcus was just messing around. You had to call the cops and make everything awkward for everyone.】 I didn’t bother replying. I turned off my phone and tried to sleep.

The storage closet had no windows. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. I woke up to someone pounding on the door. “What time do you call this? Still sleeping? The bathroom stinks so bad nobody can use it!” It was Marcus’s voice. I checked my phone. It was only 6 AM. I forced the door open. Marcus kicked a filthy bucket toward my feet. “Go clean it! If you mess up our morning routine, you’ll regret it.” I picked up the bucket and headed to the shared bathroom on the second floor. Before I even stepped inside, the pungent smell of urine hit me. The toilet seat was covered in yellow stains. Cigarette butts and used tissues littered the floor. There was dried white residue on the sink. These assholes did this on purpose. Before, everyone at least tried to keep things somewhat clean. Now they were dumping all their filth here just to humiliate me. I put on rubber gloves and grabbed the toilet brush. “Well, look who it is—our fancy auditor.” Derek walked in wearing nothing but his boxers. He stood at the urinal, completely unashamed, and unzipped right in front of me. The sound of him peeing echoed, accompanied by his intentional whistling. I turned my back to him and scrubbed the inside of the toilet bowl vigorously. “Claire, why do you have to make this so hard?” Derek finished, zipped up, and walked over. He leaned against the doorframe, checking me out from behind. “Just sign that ‘Beauty Rent-Free Agreement.’ You won’t have to do this crap work, and you’ll get free rent too.” “We might be a little rough around the edges, but we’ve all got skills. We’d definitely make you feel good.” I tightened my grip on the toilet brush. “Get out.” “Bitch, quit acting like you’re pure.” Derek sneered and spat a thick glob of phlegm onto the sink I’d just cleaned. “I’m waiting for the day you get on your knees and beg me.” He strutted out. I turned on the faucet and washed his spit down the drain. After cleaning three bathrooms, my back was killing me. Back in the storage closet, I was about to change clothes when the door pushed open again. It was Ryan Cooper this time. He was wearing a suit, looking like some corporate hotshot. Too bad looks are deceiving. Deep down, he was just another asshole. “Claire, I brought you breakfast.” He handed me a couple pieces of dry toast. “I don’t want it.” “Don’t be like that.” Ryan set the toast on a cardboard box. “I know you feel wronged, but if you’re going to live here, you need to go along with them.” “Marcus is actually a decent guy. He just cares about his reputation. You calling the cops yesterday embarrassed him.” The man I once had a crush on could actually say something like this. “That was sexual harassment! It was degrading!” I kept my voice down. “What sexual harassment? It was just a joke.” Ryan scowled. “I saw that post in the group too. It was just a joke to lighten things up.” “Besides, that rent-free thing? If you don’t want to sign it, don’t sign it. Who’s forcing you?” “Now look what you did. Everyone treats you like the enemy. I’m embarrassed by association.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You’re embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” “I’m the one who told you about this place. Now you’ve created this mess, and Marcus is giving me grief because of it.” Ryan self-righteously pointed the finger at me. “Claire, you’re so selfish. You never think about how your actions affect others.” “If you really want to fix this, buy a couple bottles of wine tonight and apologize to Marcus.” Looking at Ryan’s hypocritical face made me realize how blind I’d been. This was the “nice guy.” This was supposed to be “looking out for me.” When push came to shove, he had the backbone of a wet noodle. “Take your toast and get out.” Ryan’s expression soured. “Claire, don’t be ungrateful! I came here to help you as a friend.” “If you want to play janitor so badly, don’t come crying to me later!” He grabbed the toast, threw it on the floor, and stormed off. I checked my phone. My supervisor had messaged me in the work group: 【Claire Bennett, where’s today’s report? Do you still want this job?】 I took a deep breath and replied: 【Sending it now.】

That evening when I got back to the apartment, the vibe was even more hostile. In the first-floor lobby, several guys were sitting around drinking. When they saw me walk in, the noise died down. Marcus held up a bottle, his face flushed. He was clearly drunk. Next to him sat a woman in skimpy clothes, draped in his arms. “Marcus, is this the chick who talked back to you?” “She’s not even that hot. Not like me.” “That’s right, nobody’s as hot and compliant as you.” Marcus squeezed the woman’s butt, making her giggle. “Babe, tell her the perks of signing the agreement.” The woman smugly tilted her chin and dangled her room key. “My rent’s completely free, and Marcus even bought me a new designer bag.” “We’re all adults here. It’s a win-win. Why act so prissy?” So someone actually signed that disgusting agreement. This woman was Marcus’s “poster girl.” “You hear that, Claire?” Derek spoke up from the side. “Jasmine here knows how to play ball.” “It’s not too late to change your mind. Just come over, chug this bottle, let us kiss you a little, and we’ll waive your rent too.” He pointed at the whiskey bottle on the table, eyeing me with ill intent. I ignored them and headed for the storage closet. “Hold it right there!” Marcus slammed the bottle on the table. “I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?” I stopped and turned to face him. “I’m only here to clean, not to drink with you guys.” “Still got that attitude, huh?” Marcus stood up unsteadily and staggered toward me. “Cleaning? Perfect timing. The toilet’s clogged. Go fix it.” “Now?” “Duh! Right now!” Marcus pushed me. “Don’t even think about sleeping until it’s fixed!” I clenched my jaw and headed to the bathroom. The second I opened the door, I nearly gagged. The toilet was stuffed with toilet paper, and sewage had overflowed everywhere. This wasn’t an accident. It was intentional. They’d crammed entire rolls of toilet paper in there and dumped leftover food. “Look at her face!” Derek and Ryan were laughing outside the door. They stood in the hallway, holding up their phones to record me. “Claire, do a good job. If this video goes viral, you’ll be famous.” Ryan said maliciously. “I already got the title: ‘High-Class Career Woman Unclogs Toilets at Night – What a contrast!’” I picked up the plunger and got to work. Sewage splashed onto my pants, but I was beyond caring. No matter how I fought back, they just saw it as entertainment. They got off on trampling my dignity. If that’s how they want to play it, they asked for what’s coming next. Half an hour later, the toilet was finally unclogged. I stood up straight and looked at my sorry reflection in the mirror. The laughter outside continued. There were even sounds of… things I can’t describe. That woman Jasmine and Marcus had gone into a room and left the door wide open on purpose. The noises were loud enough for the whole hallway to hear. This was their way of showing me what happens when you follow the “agreement.” I splashed water on my face, which helped clear my head. Back in the storage closet, I noticed the door latch had been messed with. It was just a simple latch, but it was definitely out of place. My heart dropped. I immediately checked my things. Someone had stepped on my blanket—there were clear footprints on it. Cigarette butts were floating in my water cup. My laptop, which I’d left under my pillow, was gone. It had the audit report I needed to submit soon, plus lots of important client data. “Where’s my laptop?” I rushed to the lobby and shouted at Derek, who was drinking. “What laptop? Didn’t see it.” Derek spread his hands, looking like a total jerk. “Quit playing dumb! It was there when I left!” “You didn’t keep an eye on your stuff. How is that our problem?” Marcus stuck his head out of the bedroom, his clothes all messed up. “Maybe you’re broke and sold it yourself to pay rent.” “Yeah, trying to frame us?” Ryan chimed in. Suddenly, I heard running water from the laundry sink in the backyard. I ran over and found my laptop submerged in the laundry sink. There was even a rock weighing it down. It was all over. My report. My data. My career. Completely ruined by these assholes. “Oops, my bad.” Derek stood behind me. “I was doing laundry earlier. Didn’t notice there was a laptop in there. Just tossed it in, I guess.” “But don’t sweat it. You’re a janitor now anyway. Why do you need a laptop?” “Maybe you should beg Marcus to buy you a new one.” I stood there, staring at the laptop in the water. My anger hit a boiling point, then suddenly turned ice cold. I wanted to scream, to fight, to destroy something. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t take them all on alone. You want me to be a janitor? Fine. I’ll be the best damn janitor this place has ever seen. I turned and gave Derek a cold smile. “It’s cool.” “Out with the old, in with the new, right?” Derek looked confused. He clearly expected me to lose it. “Are you nuts?” I ignored him and headed back to the bathroom. This time, I didn’t pick up the toilet brush. My eyes landed on the sink counter, on that row of colorful toothbrushes. I knew exactly whose each one was. I grabbed Marcus’s blue toothbrush and walked over to the toilet I’d just unclogged, still stained with filth.

The next day was Saturday—their so-called “party day.” Marcus announced they were throwing a cocktail party tonight to celebrate the building’s “new policy initiative.” All tenants had to attend. And of course, I was the server. First thing in the morning, they put me to work. They’d bought tons of burger patties, sausages, and cocktail ingredients for me to prep. “Claire, get these glasses spotless. If there’s even a smudge, you’ll be licking them clean.” Derek dumped nearly a hundred glasses in front of me. “Got it.” After last night, they thought I’d finally broken. That false sense of victory made them drop their guard around me. I knelt by the sink, washing glass after glass. Ryan walked past and stopped. “Claire, that’s better.” He sighed dramatically. “Women shouldn’t try to be so tough. See how much nicer things are now? Everyone’s getting along.” “If you play your cards right tonight, I’ll talk to Marcus about moving you back to your real room.” I looked up at him. “Thanks, Ryan.” He nodded approvingly and reached to pat my head. I ducked and picked up another glass. “Ryan, I don’t need your help. Go enjoy the party.” Ryan awkwardly pulled his hand back and forced a smile. “Alright then. Such a hard worker.” That evening, the party got underway. On the rooftop, the air reeked of smoke. Guys were shirtless, yelling and hooting. Jasmine and the other girls who’d signed the agreement wore skimpy outfits, moving between the men, pouring drinks and feeding them snacks. I brought up a tray of mixed drinks. Marcus grabbed my wrist. “C’mon Claire, dance for us.” “I don’t know how.” I pulled my hand free and set down the tray. “Don’t know how? Then what are you good for?” Marcus reeked of booze, his eyes glassy. “Oh right, you’re good for scrubbing toilets.” The whole rooftop erupted in laughter. “To reward our star cleaner, here’s a cocktail just for you.” Derek picked up a strong-looking cocktail and forced it toward my mouth. The straight whiskey burned my throat. “Drink up!” he yelled in my ear. I had to take a sip. The bitter taste hit my tongue hard. “Taste good?” Derek slapped my cheek. “It’s good.” I swallowed, fighting back the nausea. “Atta girl.” Derek seemed satisfied and turned to grab another bottle. Then Marcus suddenly shouted, “Hold up!” Everyone turned to look at him. He stumbled onto the table, holding up his bottle. “Tonight’s been great.” “To celebrate the success of our beauty rent-free program, I’ve got a special reward for Claire.” He pointed at me with an evil grin. “Starting today, Claire isn’t just cleaning. She’s also doing our laundry—including underwear!” “Hand wash only! I’ll check every morning!” “If they’re not spotless, or if even one goes missing, you’ll pay a $500 fine!” The crowd went wild again. Ryan joined in: “Claire, this is a privilege. Not everyone gets this chance.” I stood in the middle of the crowd, being watched and humiliated. Their twisted faces looked even more grotesque in the firelight. Was I angry? Absolutely. “Sure.” I lifted my head. “I’ll make sure they’re extra clean.” Marcus didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. He just thought I’d finally accepted my fate. “Now you’re getting it!” He hopped off the table and went to make out with Jasmine in the corner. The party lasted until the early hours. They got completely wasted. Some passed out on the floor. Others stumbled back to their rooms to keep partying. And I got stuck cleaning up the mess. I picked up the bottles one by one and bagged the trash. Finally, I made my way to the second-floor bathroom. Their dirty laundry was piled up there. Underwear formed a small mountain, reeking horribly. I looked at the pile and smiled coldly, taking photos with my phone. I put on gloves and picked up Marcus’s underwear. But I didn’t head for the sink. I walked over to the toilet that countless people had just vomited in. I threw the underwear in and used the brush that had scrubbed who knows how many layers of filth to stir it around. Once. Twice. Watching the underwear swirl around in the yellow sewage, soaking up all that filth. The tightness in my chest eased a little. But this wasn’t enough. Not even close. My eyes went back to the sink. They’d drunk so many cocktails and eaten so much food tonight. Their teeth must be full of gunk. Tomorrow morning, they’d brush extra carefully. I grabbed Marcus’s toothbrush and scrubbed it hard against that sewage-soaked underwear. The bristles worked their way into the fabric, picking up invisible bacteria and viruses. Then I stuck the toothbrush deep into the toilet bowl and scraped it against the thick layer of grime. When I was done, I put the toothbrush back where I found it. Then Derek’s. Ryan’s… Every single one got the same special “treatment.” Moonlight streamed through the window, hitting those colorful toothbrushes. They looked so clean. So innocent. Who would ever guess they were covered in their owners’ own filth? “Enjoy.”

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Two years ago, my close friend Marcus’s restaurant was on the verge of bankruptcy. I put my neck on the line and gave him the entire corporate catering contract for my company. A million dollars in annual food service fees. I thought he’d be grateful. Until someone sent me a recording. Marcus’s wife Vanessa said: “He has no idea how much she’s skimming off the top in kickbacks. Acting like such a saint.” I listened to it and laughed. But I didn’t confront him. Instead, I gave the contract directly to his competitor. Two years ago, Marcus’s restaurant was hemorrhaging money. He couldn’t make payroll for months and was about to shut down. He came to me with red-rimmed eyes. A man pushing thirty, crying in front of me. “Nora, please help me. This restaurant is my father’s life’s work. I can’t let it die like this.” We grew up together. I couldn’t watch his restaurant go under. During that period, I fought against everyone’s resistance at the company. I literally pounded my fist on the conference table in front of several senior board members. I put my position as Operations Director and my personal reputation on the line, guaranteeing his restaurant could provide the highest quality food service. In the end, I secured the exclusive catering contract for the company cafeteria. A steady million dollars a year in revenue. Enough to bring him back from the dead. The day we signed the contract, Marcus grabbed my hand. He cried even harder than before. He said: “Nora, I’ll remember this favor for the rest of my life.” “From now on, my life belongs to you.” Vanessa, standing beside him, completely changed from her usual cold distance. She was all bows and smiles, her face plastered with flattery. She poured me water, massaged my shoulders, calling me “hon” with every other breath, closer than an actual sister. “Hon, you’re our family’s savior. We’ll do anything for you from now on.” The more sincere those remembered smiles were, the more vicious the voices in that recording sounded. Two years. Just two years. The friendship I’d protected with everything I had was nothing more than a transaction they could brag about and trash-talk in their eyes. What I thought was a lifeline had become their story about my “greedy kickbacks.” A wave of physical nausea rolled up from my stomach. I didn’t do what they probably imagined—call them in a rage to demand answers, to argue my case. There was no point. Arguing with backstabbers who’d never appreciate you would only dirty my mouth. I saved that recording along with the email, carefully filing it away in an encrypted folder. Then I closed my email like nothing had happened. I opened the company’s supplier database and typed in: Flavors Haven. Marcus’s competitor’s restaurant. I calmly finished my work, then left the office.

The next day was Saturday. I didn’t have to go into the office. But my internal clock still woke me up at seven sharp. Outside the window, the sky was gray and overcast, like it might rain. I didn’t stay in bed. I got up, washed up, and made myself a simple breakfast. My phone buzzed. A small company group chat was lighting up. A few colleagues from different departments I was on decent terms with were chatting. “Oh my God, did you guys eat yesterday afternoon’s food? I almost threw up that steak.” “I seriously think their kitchen knocked over the salt shaker. It was so salty it tasted bitter.” “It’s been two months now, right? The cafeteria food keeps getting worse. Either too salty or too greasy, and there were bugs in the vegetables.” “Shh, keep it down. After all, they’re Nora’s relatives. We shouldn’t say too much.” “What relatives? I heard they’re friends. Really close ones.” “Still, they should at least be worth what we’re paying, right? The quality—even fast food takeout is better than this.” That one phrase, “Nora’s relatives,” was like a tiny thorn stabbing into my eye. I put down my sandwich. Instantly lost my appetite. Because of Marcus, my professionalism had already been discounted in my colleagues’ eyes. I’d become the person who played favorites, who sacrificed employee benefits to take care of her “connections.” I opened Ins and scrolled down out of habit. Vanessa’s profile picture popped up in the latest posts. A carefully edited selfie with a brand-new red sports car steering wheel in the background. The logo in the center of the wheel gleamed. On her hand was a just-purchased luxury brand bag, latest collection. The caption read: “My husband works so hard. All our effort deserves the best rewards!” Every word dripped with undisguised pride and showing off. I clicked on the image and zoomed in. Blinding. I laughed coldly. So this “effort” meant talking behind my back, painting me as a greedy bloodsucker? Meant cutting corners on employee meal standards over and over, skimming costs to fund your luxury lifestyle? Under the post, Marcus’s comment was pinned at the top. A heart emoji followed by: “As long as you’re happy, babe.” So loving. So harmonious. My finger unconsciously scrolled up, flipping through their Ins from the past two years. From cautious at first to completely shameless later. New car today, new house tomorrow, European vacation the day after. Vanessa’s Ins was basically a nouveau riche flexing documentary. And me? I looked down at my phone that I’d been using for nearly three years. The screen edges already had some scratches. These past two years, to help balance their restaurant’s books, to get them back on track as quickly as possible, I’d even proactively suggested shortening their payment terms from quarterly to monthly. That meant how much extra communication and reporting I had to do. How many times I had to go back and forth with the finance department. Had they forgotten all that? No. They hadn’t forgotten. They just thought it was all perfectly natural. That it was what I should do. The suppressed fire in my chest finally found an outlet and blazed up. I wasn’t running a charity. My kindness and loyalty weren’t cheap goods they could squander and trample on however they wanted. I exited Ins and found a number in my contacts I’d barely ever called. The name read: Rachel. I dialed her number. “Hello?” A crisp, capable woman’s voice came through. “Hi, this is Nora.” My voice was so calm it didn’t ripple at all. “I’d like to meet with you to discuss our company cafeteria catering contract. Do you have time tomorrow?”

Rachel and I met at a café in the city center. She arrived before me. When I walked in, she was sitting by the window with a laptop in front of her, fingers flying across the keyboard. She wore a well-fitted beige suit, hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her whole presence radiated professionalism and competence. Seeing me, she immediately closed her laptop, stood up, and extended her hand. “Nora, pleasure to finally meet you.” Her hand was warm and firm, her gaze open and bright. “Rachel, likewise.” We sat across from each other. No unnecessary small talk. Rachel pulled out a thick stack of documents from her briefcase and pushed them toward me. “Nora, this is the preliminary catering proposal and quote we’ve prepared specifically for your company.” I picked it up and flipped through. The proposal was incredibly detailed. From nutritionally balanced menu combinations to a full week of non-repeating daily menus. Even customized meals for special occasions—everything was thoroughly considered. Every ingredient’s source and inspection report was attached. Most importantly, her quote—while guaranteeing higher quality—was actually ten percent cheaper than Marcus’s restaurant. I looked up at her. Rachel met my gaze squarely. “Nora, I won’t hide this from you. Vanessa and I have history.” She wasn’t lying, just calmly stating facts. “My previous head chef got poached by her with triple the salary. He also took several of our signature recipe formulas with him.” “After that, she spread rumors everywhere that our ingredients weren’t fresh and our hygiene didn’t meet standards.” I listened quietly without interrupting. I’d heard whispers about these restaurant industry feuds, but hearing it from someone directly involved hit differently. Rachel’s face showed no resentment, only a businessperson’s cool composure and honesty. “So if your company is willing to give me this opportunity—” She paused, her tone absolutely certain, “I’m willing to cut another two percent from this base, and personally, I’ll sign an unlimited joint liability food safety guarantee with the company.” “I need this contract. Not just for profit, but to prove my restaurant is better than theirs.” In her eyes flickered an unyielding, vibrant ambition. This contrasted so sharply with Marcus’s pathetic weakness and Vanessa’s petty vanity. I appreciated her. A reliable adult, a trustworthy business partner—this was exactly what that should look like. “Rachel.” I closed the proposal, leaned forward slightly, and looked into her eyes. “Your professionalism and honesty have impressed me.” “No need for the additional discount. Let’s go with this quote.” “I only have one requirement. From day one of our partnership, I want my colleagues eating the best work meals in the entire city.” Rachel’s eyes lit up instantly. She nodded emphatically: “Nora, you have my word. I stake my reputation on it.” We drafted a letter of intent on the spot. As we shook hands goodbye, Rachel said: “Nora, thank you.” I smiled. “You should thank your own professionalism.” Back at the empty office, I sat at my desk and opened my computer. First, I drafted a formal report on terminating the catering service partnership with Marcus’s restaurant. The report contained zero personal emotion. Just facts. I attached screenshots from the past three months from the company’s internal forum and anonymous feedback channels—all the complaints about poor cafeteria food quality and questionable hygiene, along with negative satisfaction statistics. Employee satisfaction had dropped from ninety percent two years ago to barely thirty percent now. Shocking. Next, I drafted a second report proposing an open bidding process to bring in a new cafeteria vendor. In the proposal, I created a clear comparison chart between Rachel’s proposal and pricing versus Marcus’s restaurant’s current service and costs. Which was superior was obvious at a glance. All documents ready. I saved them on my desktop, naming the folder “Final Solution.” Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened. I stared at the cold text on my computer screen, feeling completely calm inside. Everything was in place. Tomorrow would be a very interesting day. Monday morning, nine o’clock. The company’s internal bulletin board and every employee’s inbox simultaneously received a notice from the Operations Department. “Announcement Regarding Change of Cafeteria Catering Service Provider.” Black and white text, official wording—but like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake. The entire company exploded. Break rooms and office areas instantly flooded with cheers. One colleague even posted on Ins: “Best thing that happened today—finally don’t have to eat slop anymore!” Ten-thirty AM. Marcus’s restaurant delivery truck rolled up to the company building as usual. Then got stopped by security. “Sorry, starting today our company’s switching catering providers. Your truck can’t enter the garage anymore.” The driver was Marcus’s cousin. He was completely stunned. He immediately called Marcus. When Marcus got the call, he probably thought it was a mistake too. He hung up and started frantically calling me.

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The night before my wedding, I found out my mafia boss fiancé had a child outside of our relationship. He was sorting through the invitations, his voice calm, almost detached: “It was a mistake from my youth. The child is born, I have to take responsibility. She had nowhere else to go, so she’s staying at the estate with Leo.” My entire body stiffened, a cold dread seizing me. It took me a long time to find my voice: “So, these three years we’ve been together… what was all that?” “I wronged you. Whether we get married or not, that’s your call.” My hand instinctively pressed against my lower abdomen. There, a secret was hidden, one I had planned to tell him today. My chest ached with a dull, suffocating pain. “So, for three years, every holiday when you said you had urgent business to handle—” “I was seeing them.” He cut in, his tone flat. “Anya is good with the boy, and Leo is well-behaved.” Three years. He could have told me sooner, but he kept it a secret. A subtle cramp twisted in my lower abdomen. I instinctively covered the spot. Dante’s eyes dropped to my hand, and his brow furrowed. “You look unwell.” He stepped forward, reaching for my forehead. I recoiled abruptly, my spine hitting the cold tile wall. “Don’t touch me.” Just then, his phone rang. From the other end came a woman’s muffled sobs, laced with a faint accent: “Dante, Leo has a fever. Can you please come see him?” Dante rubbed his temples. “Alright, I’ll send a doctor over.” Hanging up, he looked at me: “The boy’s quite fragile.” I laughed, tears streaming down my face: “Take me to them.” He was silent for a long moment. His phone vibrated again. This time, it was my dad, Richard. “Chloe, I’ve sent out all the wedding invitations! Everyone’s saying Dante is powerful, and that you have good taste!” I choked back my sobs: “Dad, I’m busy. I have to hang up!” After I hung up, Dante said: “The invitations are out, the hotel’s booked. I’ve given you the grand wedding you wanted.” I looked up at him: “Are you trying to threaten me with this?” “I said, you can choose whether or not to go through with it! You just need to think clearly.” I choked on my words, then let out a mocking, hollow laugh. “Get out.” Dante paused. “Chloe…” “I said, GET OUT!” I grabbed a glass nearby and hurled it at him! He didn’t dodge. “You’re too emotional right now. I’ll come back when you’ve calmed down.” The door softly clicked shut. I slid down the wall, collapsing to the floor. My phone vibrated. It was Uncle Mike. I took a deep breath before answering: “Uncle Mike?” Uncle Mike sighed: “Chloe, your dad has late-stage cancer. He doesn’t have much time left. He kept it from you, hoping to see you get married, to build a family.” My phone slipped from my grasp, falling to the floor as silent tears ran down my face. After a long time contemplating, I called Dante. “Tomorrow’s wedding? It’s on as scheduled!”

Before the wedding, I insisted on seeing the woman and her child. Dante agreed. The car drove towards a heavily guarded mansion in the city’s outskirts. My heart sank with every passing mile. The estate looked incredibly expensive. Then, I saw the mistress. She was stunning. “This is Chloe King.” Dante’s introduction was curt. The woman greeted me: “Hello, Ms. King, I’m Anya!” I looked behind her. A thirteen-year-old boy stood in the shadows, his features eerily similar to Dante’s, watching me with cold, disdainful eyes. Dante waved him over: “Leo, come here.” The boy slowly walked closer, calling out without expression: “Dad.” Dante instructed the maid: “Bring Mrs. King’s slippers.” The maid brought the slippers, but it was Dante who knelt and helped Anya put them on. I froze. He just called her Mrs. King! Less than three minutes into the meeting, I stood up and said: “I need to go.” Anya walked me to the door: “I heard your father sent out invitations everywhere. How ridiculous. You’re just a mistress, and your family has the nerve to brag.” Without hesitation, I slapped her. Her face quickly swelled and reddened: “You hit me?!” I stepped closer, glaring at her, “Dare to mention my father one more time, and I’ll tear your mouth off.” Dante rushed over at the sound. Seeing Anya’s swollen face, his brow furrowed: “Chloe, you promised not to cause trouble for her.” I met his gaze, “Ask her what she just said.” Anya’s voice was thin and trembling, laced with tears: “Dante!” But young Leo suddenly looked up, glaring at me and shouting: “How dare you hit my mom?!” I looked coldly at the mother and son, not willing to indulge them, and stated directly: “Dante, she just called my father a pimp, saying he sold me off to you as a mistress!” Dante took a deep breath. “Even if she said something inappropriate, you shouldn’t have resorted to violence. When did you become so utterly unreasonable?” Unreasonable? I watched as he subtly shielded Anya and Leo behind him, and my anger turned to a dull ache of despair. I lifted my head, forcing back the tears. I used to crave a grand wedding so much. Now, I just wanted it to be over. On the wedding day, the sun shone brightly. Everything went smoothly until the moment before we were to exchange rings. The banquet hall doors burst open, and Anya rushed in. “Dante… Leo’s gone missing!” Before she finished speaking, she collapsed to the floor. My heart instantly clenched. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father’s strained smile. I forcefully suppressed all the surging emotions within me. I saw Dante instinctively about to rush off the stage. I grabbed his hand tightly, pleading pathetically: “Dante, the ceremony is just twenty minutes from being finished. Please, can you just play along with me? My dad is watching us.” I tried to force a smile, one that looked uglier than any cry. Dante’s brow was tightly furrowed, and he challenged me: “Anya has collapsed, and Leo is missing. You still want me to stay here and finish this twenty-minute charade with you? Is your ‘ceremony’ more important than a human life?” The next second, I was violently thrown off by him, my mind in a daze, knocking over the champagne tower behind me. And he, to the shock of all the guests, strode quickly towards the unconscious Anya. “Dante!” I screamed with all my might to stop him, “If you leave now, I’m breaking up with you for good!” The entire hall fell silent. But he just turned his head, throwing back a cold, harsh remark: “You look so… unfamiliar to me right now.” Then he gestured for his men to help Anya up, and left without looking back. The wedding host stood awkwardly on the stage. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. The sharp pain in my lower abdomen intensified. Until my pristine white gown was stained red…

Shortly after the car started, Anya slowly regained consciousness in Dante’s arms. She leaned weakly on his shoulder, murmuring things like “I didn’t mean to, I was just so scared when I couldn’t find Leo.” Dante absentmindedly hummed in response. Suddenly, Chloe’s final look at him flashed before his eyes. A strange pang hit his heart, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. Women were such a hassle. They made a huge fuss over every little thing. Was his personal safety so trivial in her eyes? His phone suddenly vibrated. He answered, his tone impatient: “Speak.” On the other end, his trusted subordinate Jax’s voice was unusually panicked: “Mr. King, something big happened with Ms. King…” Dante rubbed his throbbing temples. “What happened?” “I don’t know, but they say Chloe was covered in blood!” Dante just froze for a moment, then let out a scoff, “She’s really playing the victim, isn’t she?” “Just yesterday you were saying she’s too proud, that she’d never tolerate Anya and Leo’s presence, right?” His voice was firm and derisive. “She just wants to blow things up, force me to make a public statement, and completely ditch Anya. Isn’t that always how women try to manipulate things?” “But this time it just feels… off! Did Chloe have a miscarriage? They say her father collapsed right there! The whole place was chaos!” The stress of the past few days and the current confusion pushed Dante’s irritation to its peak. “Alright, Jax.” Dante cut him off. “You know how much I’ve wanted a child with her all these years. She never got pregnant.” Jax tried to say something else, but Dante’s voice came again: “I’ve just spoiled her too much, that’s why she thinks she can manipulate me like this.” “But…” “Enough. I know what I’m doing. I’ll hang up now; I’ll deal with this when I’m done here.” Dante hung up without further discussion, tossing his phone aside. He told the driver to drive carefully, then adjusted his posture slightly to make Anya more comfortable in his arms. His fingertips brushed away the sweat-dampened strands of hair from her forehead. See. Anya was so simple, so obedient, needing his complete protection and control. And Chloe… His eyes darkened. When did she become so cunning, resorting to such methods to compete? He felt a pang of disappointment. He’d thought they were soulmates. He chose to be honest before the wedding because he believed their bond was strong enough. But she needed to know there were some lines she couldn’t cross. Upon arriving at the mansion, after much coaxing, Leo locked himself in his room, and Anya took a sedative and fell asleep. Dante sat in his study, an unexplainable frustration simmering within him. At this moment, he clearly realized that his carefully planned wedding had been ruined. It could have gone so smoothly… Anya timidly knocked on the study door: “Dante, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to. I didn’t know the wedding was today, and Leo was just having a tantrum and hid. I just panicked and wanted to see you, I never thought it would turn out like this.” “Did I… cause you and Ms. King trouble again?” Looking at her fragile, helpless demeanor, Dante’s irritation finally dissipated. He sighed, his tone softening slightly: “It’s fine now. Just keep a closer eye on Leo from now on, don’t let him run off. You should rest too.” As he turned to handle some business, his encrypted phone rang. It was one of his men at the hospital. The man’s voice was urgent as he relayed a few sentences. Dante’s face instantly changed. His steps halted for a second, then he clenched his fist violently. Something truly terrible had happened at the wedding. Chloe had been rushed to the hospital with severe bleeding, and her father had died on the spot…

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There was this guy at the office who lived for spreading rumors about female coworkers. When one woman wore a bodycon dress, he’d joke she was “definitely into kinky stuff after hours.” When another got promoted with a raise, he’d claim she “slept her way to the top” with the boss. When he saw me leaving work in a Bentley, jealousy ate him alive. He started telling people I had three sugar daddies. He even followed me and cut me off in traffic. “Driving so fast, you got a sugar daddy waiting?” I just snarled back: “You’re wasting my time, and you’ll regret this!” Turns out, I was speeding because there was a pregnant woman in labor in my backseat. And that woman? His wife. On the way to the hospital, some guy in a Volkswagen cut me off three times on purpose. I was in a rush, so I let it go. But my patience only egged him on. BANG. He forced me to a complete stop. When I rolled down my window and got a good look at his face, I realized it was Dylan Pierce—that guy from work who loved labeling everyone. He had a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he swaggered out of his car, looking all smug and mocking. “Driving so fast, you got a sugar daddy to service?” A luxury car getting cut off downtown quickly drew a crowd. “This is wild. Some dude in a beat-up VW picking a fight with a Bentley? He must have a death wish.” I’d had enough. I pushed open my door and stepped out. “Dylan, there’s an emergency. Move out of my way before you regret it.” But he didn’t care. He glanced at the Bentley logo and sneered. “Emergency?” He raised his voice, making sure everyone around could hear. “Your emergency’s meeting your sugar daddy, right? Can’t wait to service your client—hope you can keep up with his demands.” “Makes sense. How else would a regular employee afford a Bentley unless she’s selling herself?” His words lit up the crowd. “See? Told you. No office worker drives a Bentley. She’s definitely a sugar baby.” “Gross. Stay back—might catch something.” The crowd’s admiring looks at the luxury car turned to daggers aimed at me. I let out a bitter laugh. What, rich families don’t have daughters? But right then, the pregnant woman in the backseat—Pearl Anderson—was clutching her heavily pregnant belly, face ashen with pain. If I didn’t get her to the hospital soon, someone could die! Seeing me stay quiet, Dylan got bolder. He stepped closer, spittle flying as he talked. “Cat got your tongue? Feeling guilty?” “Hey princess, why not share your secrets for landing a Bentley?” “I’m sure everyone here would love to know.” The crowd snickered and nodded along. Their judgmental stares burned into me. I felt suffocated. I clenched my fists, jaw tight enough to crack. “Whether my money’s clean or not is none of your business.” “Your wife is in the car, she is in labor. If something happens because of your games, you’ll regret it forever.” Dylan laughed like I’d told the funniest joke ever. “Please, my wife’s due date isn’t for weeks! You think I’ll fall for that?” “Iris, you’re so desperate to meet your sugar daddy you’re using my wife as leverage?” Then a twisted idea crossed his face. “Fine. If you, Iris Bennett, publicly admit you’re a prostitute, I’ll move.” He turned to the crowd again. “Listen up! This woman’s nothing but a gold-digging whore!” “Remember her face! If you’re dating, steer clear—she’ll drain your bank account!” The crowd erupted in laughter. People pulled out phones to record me. I trembled with rage, chest heaving. “Dylan, you say I’m selling myself, do you got any proof?” “If not, that’s slander. I’ll call the cops right now and sue you for defamation.”

He froze for a second, then lost it completely. “Iris, don’t push me!” “I’m doing you a favor! Trying to help you see sense! If you escalate this, you’ll be the one humiliated!” I stayed calm, face steady. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Why would I be ashamed?” “But you are spreading lies about me? I’ll make sure you pay for this.” Dylan’s face turned purple with rage. “Fine! If you want to humiliate yourself, be my guest!” He fumbled for his phone, held it up high, and yelled. “Everyone, look! Here’s the proof!” The crowd leaned in. People nearby craned their necks, then gasped. “There it is. Let’s see her explain this!” On his screen was a video of a woman linking arms with some middle-aged guy, walking into a fancy hotel… And the woman’s build and hair looked exactly like mine. According to this video, Dylan was telling the truth. I was the liar. “That’s definitely her! Case closed!” “Wow, she looks so innocent—but she’s a total gold digger!” “No question—she’s definitely a sugar baby!” Dylan smugly put his phone away and smirked at me. “Cat got your tongue? Weren’t you tough a minute ago?” “You wanted proof? Is this video enough?” “Admit you’re a escort, get on your knees and apologize, and I’ll let you go. Deal?” My mind raced, looking for holes in his story. He thought a deepfake video would take me down? He really underestimated me—he had no idea I was set to inherit a company. But I didn’t call him out right away. Instead, I put on a devastated expression, eyes watering as I grabbed Dylan’s hand. “I was wrong earlier. Thank you.” Everyone—including Dylan—looked shocked. “Thank me for what?” I kept going. “Thank you for showing me I was violated without even knowing it.” “Please send me that video. I need to report that creep immediately!” He froze, yanking his hand back and scowling. “Iris, what are you talking about?” “You obviously did this willingly. Stop playing the victim!” I ignored him and started sobbing in front of everyone. My cries were loud and desperate. “If that monster hadn’t drugged me, this never would’ve happened!” “If no one believes me, I’ll end my life to prove I’m innocent!” I made a dramatic move like I was going to hurt myself. The crowd, clearly moved, rushed to stop me. Then I wiped my tears and spoke firmly. “I’m calling the cops. And the media!” Dylan’s face went white. “Are you crazy? You can’t go public with this! Do you want everyone to know? You’ll embarrass the whole company!” I stared him down. “Why shouldn’t I call the police? You’re the one who just accused me of being drugged and assaulted, remember?” “I just want the police to get me justice. Is that so wrong?” Dylan’s face turned purple. He kicked his car in rage. “Iris, I’m warning you—you’re not calling the cops today!” “As a company employee, I won’t let you ruin our reputation!” I let out a bitter laugh. Now he suddenly cares about company reputation? I had no intention of actually calling the police. I just needed to scare him. After all, the pregnant woman in the car couldn’t wait much longer. I needed to wrap this up fast. Ignoring Dylan’s yelling, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Mr. Harrison, I need you to come down. I have a video that needs authentication.” Within ten minutes, a black sedan pulled up. A middle-aged man in a suit carrying professional equipment got out. This was Mr. Harrison—one of the top AI forensics experts in the field. After hearing the situation, he connected his equipment to Dylan’s phone. Within minutes, he had his answer. “This video was created using AI face-swapping and motion synthesis technology.” The crowd exploded. This time, their anger was directed at Dylan.

“He faked the video to slander her! What a scumbag! That’s messed up!” “I knew something was fishy. No way a nice girl would do that. He totally set her up!” “He must be jealous she drives a Bentley, so he tried to ruin her reputation! What a creep!” Dylan turned white as a sheet. He stammered, unable to get words out. I walked up to him, voice dripping with disdain. “So I wasn’t drugged after all. Just slandered with a deepfake video.” “Dylan, you really can’t stand seeing others succeed? You can’t get promoted, so you assume every successful woman slept her way up? See someone with a nice car and you turn green with envy?” “Your small-mindedness is sad and laughable.” The crowd started pointing and whispering about Dylan. Dylan’s eyes turned dark with hatred as he glared at me. “Iris!” “You just wait!” Remembering the pregnant woman in the car, I didn’t waste another second. “Dylan, your Volkswagen can’t outrun my Bentley, can it?” “If you want your wife to be okay, move out of my way!” He scoffed. “Someone like you doesn’t deserve to say my wife’s name.” I ignored him and got back in the car. The engine roared to life as I started it. In the rearview mirror, I saw Dylan frozen, eyes blazing with anger. My heart skipped a beat. I worried he might do something desperate. I was about to tell Pearl to hold on. But before I could speak, I heard screeching brakes and a crash behind me. BANG! A massive jolt hit the back of the car, sending it lurching forward. My forehead nearly hit the steering wheel. From the back seat, Pearl cried out, clutching her stomach tighter. I looked back. Dylan’s car was smashed into my Bentley’s rear bumper. His bumper was totaled. He was slumped over his steering wheel, eyes bloodshot, glaring at me like a rabid animal. “Iris! How dare you show off your fancy car! How dare you flaunt your money!” “I’ll teach you a lesson for crossing me!” Another crash. He rammed me again. The car shot forward half a meter. My forehead slammed into the steering wheel. Everything went black. From the back seat came Pearl’s scream of agony. “Ahh! My belly, my baby…” “It hurts so bad…” Ignoring my throbbing head, I spun around. Pearl was curled up in the back seat. Her white dress was soaked in blood. “The baby… my baby… please be okay…” Cold sweat broke out across my forehead. I fumbled for my phone to call 911. Then someone started kicking my car door. Dylan stormed out of his car, face contorted with rage. “Iris! You can’t even drive?!” “Typical woman driver!” “You caused this crash! You’re paying for my car!” “Or I’ll make sure you get fired!” I laughed in disbelief. “Dylan, you’ve got some nerve twisting this around.” He kept ranting, demanding I get out of the car. But the situation was critical. I just needed the ambulance to hurry. Pearl’s breathing was getting weaker. The blood stain on the seat kept spreading. Looking at Dylan’s smug face, I ground my teeth. “Dylan, shut up. Someone in this car is dying.” “Dying? What’s that to me?” Dylan sneered and kicked the door again. “Quit making excuses! You’re just avoiding the bill!” “You drive a Bentley and act so high and mighty? Pay up!” “Or you’ll be sorry!” He kept rambling, spewing the same insults. I bit my lip and tried one last time, as calmly as possible. “Dylan, the person in this car is your wife!” “She’s in critical condition because of you!” “Dylan, you bastard! You’ll regret this!” That made him even angrier. “You bitch, how dare you drag my wife into this? You want to die?” “Fine! I’ll grant your wish!” He grabbed the door handle, trying to yank it open. But the second he saw who was in the back seat, his face went ghostly white… He froze like he’d been struck by lightning, lips trembling. “Honey? Why… why are you here?” “How did you end up in this car?”

His eyes turned red. He frantically tugged at the door handle, fumbling for what felt like forever. Finally, I hit the unlock button and he stumbled inside. Pearl’s dress was completely soaked in blood now. Her eyes were half-open, barely breathing as she looked at him. “Dylan… our baby…” “Is he… leaving us?” “No, no, he’s not!” Dylan reached for Pearl but hesitated, afraid to hurt her. His hand hovered, shaking. He looked up at me, voice cracking. “Iris, why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner?! Hurry, get her to the hospital!” I almost laughed. “Dylan, I did warn you. You just didn’t listen.” “And your car’s totaled because you crashed it. How am I supposed to drive now?” Watching him panic, I felt nothing but bitter irony. I said flatly, “I already called an ambulance. It’s on the way.” Before long, the ambulance arrived. As paramedics lifted Pearl onto the stretcher, Dylan tried to follow, but I blocked him. “Dylan, let’s be clear. You faked that video to slander me and deliberately crashed into my car. This isn’t over.” Dylan pushed me aside and climbed into the ambulance, calling Pearl’s name frantically. I followed them to the hospital. Outside the ER, Dylan crouched in the hallway, clutching his hair, voice trembling with fear. “How did this happen?” “Pearl’s due date was still three months away. How…?” He looked nothing like the arrogant man who’d rammed my car—just pathetic. I leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. “Your wife went into premature labor…” “Dylan, if it weren’t for your paranoia and spite, Pearl wouldn’t be here. I could’ve gotten her to the hospital safely!” “You did this to her!” That set him off. He pointed a finger at my face and started cursing. “No! It wasn’t me!” “It’s you! You evil woman! You did this on purpose!” After what felt like hours, the ER doors finally opened. A doctor stepped out, and Dylan rushed over. “How’s my wife? What happened?” The doctor pulled off his mask and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could. The patient had severe hemorrhaging from the impact. We couldn’t save the baby. She’s stable now, but she needs rest.” “Gone?” “That’s impossible!” “You’re all lying to me!” Dylan’s eyes turned bloodshot. He suddenly turned to me, all rationality gone. “This is your fault! All of it! If it weren’t for you, my wife wouldn’t have lost our baby!” “You were driving her! Why didn’t you protect her?!” He lunged at me like a wild animal and slapped me hard across the face. The sharp *crack* echoed through the quiet hallway. My cheek burned. My head snapped sideways, and I tasted blood in my mouth. But I didn’t let him get away with it. I mustered all my strength and slapped him back. “If you hadn’t deliberately crashed into my car, would Pearl have lost the baby?” “And now you’re hitting me instead of taking responsibility? You make me sick!” Dylan flew into a rage and tried to hit me again, but a nurse nearby held him back. He struggled and shouted, “No! This is your fault! You bitch!” Just then, police officers arrived. “Sir, calm down!” An officer put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder, speaking firmly. “You created a fake video to defame someone, deliberately damaged property, and now you’ve assaulted someone. You’ve broken multiple laws. If you don’t calm down, you’ll face serious charges.” Dylan looked at the officer’s serious face and finally deflated. He collapsed to the floor, covering his face as he sobbed. “Why me? This isn’t fair!” Even now, he refused to take responsibility. “Is Iris Bennett here?” “The patient wants to see you.”

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My dad scheduled a physical for me. When the nurse was drawing my blood, I heard her ask, “Is this for a bone marrow match sample?” I froze. That wasn’t listed on my physical exam form at all. And why would I need a match anyway? The lab slip in the nurse’s hand accidentally fluttered to the floor. As I bent to pick it up, a few lines of text jumped out at me: Patient: Chloe Davis. Diagnosis: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Guardian Signature: Robert Anderson. Robert Anderson was my father, but who the hell was Chloe Davis? I called my dad right away: “Dad, why does my physical need a bone marrow match?” His voice wavered, sounding a little flustered. “Must be a hospital mix-up, right? But it’s just another test—can’t hurt to do one more.” I smiled and said okay. After hanging up, I went straight to the patient room listed on the lab slip. Walking into the room, I saw a girl lying in bed. Her face was pale, her body frail. Her eyes and eyebrows looked almost exactly like my dad’s. My heart dropped. I clenched my hands and walked over, asking, “Are you Chloe Davis?” She looked up at me, startled. Before she could speak, a woman’s voice came from behind her. I turned. It was her mom. She looked to be in her early thirties—pretty young—simply dressed, with a gentle, motherly vibe. She seemed flustered, her face pale, her hands shaking a little. “You must be one of Chloe’s classmates, right?” Her voice was urgent and shaking. She rushed forward and grabbed my arm. “She needs to rest. Could you step out for a minute? I need to talk to you.” I didn’t refuse and followed her out of the room. In the hallway, she visibly relaxed, then hesitated before speaking. “You’re…” I held up my medical form, cutting straight to the point. “Why is my father’s name on your daughter’s guardian signature line?” “Ma’am, what’s your relationship with my dad?” The hospital hallway was busy with people, and some who knew her walked by. She hadn’t expected me to confront her directly. Her expression got even tenser, but she forced a smile and greeted her acquaintances. Then, with a strained smile, she tried to explain to me: “That signature… my daughter is sick, and a generous charity is providing funding. The person in charge happened to be there when I was filling out paperwork, so they just signed casually.” Her words were gentle, meant to calm my suspicions. But her eyes, fixed on me, held a hint of malice and a greedy glint. I met her gaze, staring right back. She looked a little guilty, instinctively running a hand through her hair. I noticed the diamond ring on her hand. It looked familiar—a designer piece. It was from my mom’s favorite designer. This designer, who rarely releases new pieces, had recently launched a new collection that got a lot of industry attention. It happened to coincide with my parents’ wedding anniversary. I’d even secretly suggested to my dad that he should try to get this diamond ring as an anniversary gift for my mom. He agreed, telling me to keep it a secret, saying he had a surprise planned for Mom. But on the anniversary, what he gave her was a generic, mass-produced design you could find anywhere. Even the stones were cubic zirconia. My dad explained that he’d been at a cross-country meeting with a time difference, mixed up the date, and couldn’t get the limited edition. He said he’d use a regular designer piece for now and later contact the designer for a custom piece for Mom. Turns out, he hadn’t “missed out”—he’d given it to this other woman. And fobbed my mom off with a lousy substitute. I gritted my teeth, holding back a surge of anger. Staring at Summer’s awkward expression, my smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Ma’am, your ring is beautiful, isn’t it? A limited edition designer piece?” “My mom waited forever but couldn’t get one.” She probably hadn’t expected a kid like me to recognize it. She froze up instantly, her face turning ugly. She quickly pulled her hair forward, trying to cover a necklace, and stammered out a defense: “What designer piece…? I don’t know anything about that. My daughter just bought this for me—it’s nothing expensive.” “I need to go take care of my daughter now, so I should get back.” “Oh, and please don’t mention today to anyone, so we don’t cause any misunderstandings at home.” With that, she turned in a panic and hurried back into the room. Watching her flee like that, I scoffed to myself. Spineless coward. Without another look, I turned and left the hospital. Sitting in the car, I immediately called Mr. Davison, my grandfather’s assistant: “Could you help me look into any unusual activity my dad’s been up to lately, especially his travel plans and financial transactions?” “Be quick, but be careful not to tip him off.” “Any evidence you find, save it right away.”

When I got home, my mom, Eleanor, was in the kitchen making soup. When my dad was younger, he was busy with work, had an irregular diet, and developed serious stomach problems—he even had two stomach surgeries. My mom felt bad for him. A woman who’d never even boiled an egg started cooking just for him. She made slow-cooked soups, healing porridges, and medicinal dishes… She carefully nursed his stomach back to almost full health—about 80%. For as long as I could remember, that had been going on for nearly ten years. In two days, it would be Mom and Dad’s 20th wedding anniversary. Yet this was when I found out my dad was cheating. Watching her busy in the kitchen, my anger turned to deep sadness, and I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. She was in her forties but kept her figure well, with firm skin that made her look closer to thirty. Only her hands told a different story—slightly enlarged knuckles, thin calluses on her palms, and a few faint white scars on the backs of her hands. She used to love getting manicures, but later, she found it got in the way of cooking, so she quit altogether. I walked into the kitchen and gently hugged her from behind. She jumped, then smiled and teased me: “You’re home? You’re almost in high school, acting like a little kid.” “Come on, get out of here. It’s smoky, and I’m busy.” When I didn’t move, she sensed something was wrong. She turned around and immediately saw my tear-streaked face, her expression instantly tensing up. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Didn’t you go for your physical? Didn’t Dad go with you? Let me ask him…” She started to reach for her phone. I grabbed her wrist, shaking my head hard. “Don’t call him!” Mom froze, looking at me anxiously, waiting for me to explain. I squeezed my eyes shut, my throat tight. “Dad… he’s cheating.” “Her name is Summer Davis. She used to be his secretary.” I moved stiffly, my fingers shaking a little as I pulled my tablet out of my bag. The screen lit up, showing the information Mr. Davison, my grandfather’s assistant, had helped me dig up. The screen light made Mom’s face look pale. I swiped through the pages, showing her everything one by one. “She and Dad started seeing each other not long after she joined the company. That was… right when you got pregnant with me.” “Less than six months later, she left the company because she was pregnant. Dad bought her a luxury penthouse in a high-end building near our house, and it’s in her name.” “While you were swollen and struggling to sleep in your third trimester, he was making her special prenatal meals over there; while you were fighting for your life during a difficult labor in the hospital, he was massaging her, walking with her to ease her pain.” “While you were recovering from your C-section in the hospital, he was at that woman’s prenatal appointments, even telling her to walk more so she wouldn’t have to go through a C-section later.” “Mom, that other daughter is only six months younger than me. He cheated on you *while you were pregnant*.” I cried as I spoke, tears splashing onto the tablet screen, leaving small wet streaks. Mom stared blankly at the words and photos, her eyes slowly reddening with tears. “How could this be…?” “Twenty years… dating, marriage, twenty years. How could he…?” I hugged her tightly, took a deep breath, and kept going. “Mom, remember when I was little, the house fire?” She nodded, her voice getting even hoarser. “Of course I remember. I was on a business trip then. Your dad was juggling work while taking care of you, and when he turned around, you’d set the curtains on fire… He risked his life to save you. He was terrified afterward, watching over you in the hospital, saying if anything happened to you, he wouldn’t want to live either.” “After you got out of the ICU, he was so anxious. He followed you everywhere, often waking up in the middle of the night to check on you. He kept telling me it was all his fault… Back then, I thought he really loved you and cared about our family.” As she spoke, there was a bitter edge to her words. I kept scrolling, pausing my finger on a section of the investigation report. “What if I told you that fire wasn’t an accident at all?” “He thought I was asleep and was rushing to see them—Summer and Chloe. He threw an unextinguished cigarette butt into the trash can.” “The window was open, the wind blew the curtain in, and it caught fire. He locked me in the room… I couldn’t save myself.” “He didn’t save me either. A neighbor noticed the fire and called the police. Firefighters broke down the door, carried me out, and took me to the hospital. He… only showed up much later.” “I was only a few years old then, and I was drifting in and out of consciousness, so I couldn’t remember exactly what happened.” “Did you think he stayed by my side that whole time because he loved me? He was scared I might suddenly remember and tell you the truth… scared you’d get mad and he’d lose access to Grandpa Harrison’s resources and connections.” My eyes stung, burning with a mix of injustice and fury. All the happiness I thought I’d had was actually a carefully constructed lie. The built-up unfairness hit its breaking point, turning into pure anger. I hated him for lying to Mom, and even more for giving me this fake love all these years like it was some kind of charity. What were we to him, really? But looking at Mom’s face, only heartache was left. She was the one who’d been hurt the most. I wanted to say more, but my phone suddenly rang. It was the hospital. “Hello, is this Hazel Anderson? Some of your physical exam results need retesting. Please have a parent bring you back to the hospital for a detailed examination as soon as possible.” I paused, trying to keep my voice steady. “Okay, I understand.” As soon as I hung up, both my mom’s and my phones vibrated almost at the same time. The message to me said: [The hospital called, said you need a recheck. Dad will take you the day after tomorrow.] The message to Mom said: [Honey, that French designer you like is having a private collection exhibit next week. A friend gave me two invitation-only tickets. It’s the day after tomorrow afternoon. You should go, clear your head.] The day after tomorrow was exactly when I was supposed to have my recheck at the hospital. He’d deliberately sent Mom away, planning to take me alone… Mom and I exchanged a look. Neither of us said anything. I really wanted to see his face when his elaborate scheme fell apart.

On the day of the recheck, my dad and I went to the hospital together. While waiting at a red light, he picked up his phone and sent a voice message to my mom. “Honey, have you gotten to the art exhibition center? Is parking easy there?” He was checking up on her. Soon, Mom replied with a message. “Just got here, waiting in line to get in. Parking was a bit far, had to walk a ways.” She also attached a photo. A selfie of her and a friend at the exhibition center. My dad tapped to enlarge it, then kept driving. “I heard the ‘Morning Mist’ piece is on display this time. Have you seen it? I remember you really liked that painter.” A few minutes later, Mom sent a photo from inside the exhibition hall. “Saw it, it’s even more amazing than in the catalog. It’s pretty crowded, talk later.” My dad seemed to let out a relieved sigh. He turned to me with a perfect smile. “Your mom finally gets to relax a little.” Hypocrite. I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. At the hospital, he played the part of the good father perfectly. Follow-up appointments, tests, checking in… He even kindly covered my eyes when they drew my blood. If I hadn’t found out about his affair and that he had another daughter… I probably would’ve leaned into that tenderness, snuggled in his arms and whined like a kid, just like before. The whole process went quickly. After getting the blood draw receipt, he checked his watch and spoke casually. “Hazel, wait here for a minute, don’t go anywhere. Dad’s going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” “Okay,” I whispered, looking down. He was heading toward the hematology ward. After a little while, I stood up and quietly followed him. The ward door was slightly open. I stood outside, peeking through the gap. My dad was sitting beside Chloe’s bed, feeding her medicine. The girl leaned against him, looking completely dependent, her voice tearful. “Daddy, I’m scared…” “Am I going to die? I don’t want to leave you and Mom…” My dad gently wiped her tears, his voice incredibly soft. “Silly girl, don’t talk like that.” “Daddy got you the best doctors in the country and the best medicine. See, Daddy’s always here with you, right? You’re so brave, you’re going to get better.” Summer also leaned over, gently brushing her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t be scared, Mommy and Daddy are here. Your dad has put off so much work for you, coming to the hospital every day, talking to all these experts and professors… Remember when you had that midnight fever last month? Daddy was at a conference overseas, but he got on the next flight home and stayed up with you for two whole nights. With Daddy here, you don’t have to fear anything.” The three of them looked like the perfect little family. Meanwhile, I stood outside the door feeling like a fool. I remembered when I was eight, I had pneumonia so bad my fever hit 104 degrees, coughing so hard I thought my lungs would split. Mom rushed me to the ER, her hands shaking she was so scared. She called him over and over, but all he sent was a text: “With important clients, can’t leave. Thanks for handling it.” That whole night, Mom sat with me alone in the emergency room until morning, watching the IV drip. Later I found out Chloe had been throwing a fit that night, didn’t want him to leave. His “important clients” were just Summer and her. I dug my nails into my palms so hard they almost broke, but I didn’t feel a thing. Suddenly an arm wrapped around my shoulders. It was Mom. She gave me a little nod, like she was saying “I’ve got you.” Just then, the doctor came out smiling: “Don’t worry, you two. Chloe’s numbers have fluctuated a bit lately, but they’re manageable overall. With parents as dedicated as you supporting her, the child’s positive attitude is crucial for treatment. Our team has gone over the bone marrow transplant plan thoroughly—we just need the donor ready, and we can move forward with surgery.” “I’d do anything to save Chloe,” my dad said, looking at her with a determined voice. Anything to save Chloe. What about me? Me, being treated like a walking donor. Didn’t my wishes, my health, matter at all? A dull, heavy ache spread through my chest. My dad turned to the doctor, his voice steady. “I’ve got the donor all set up. We can get all the paperwork done today.” “Please do whatever you can to schedule the surgery as soon as possible.” A senior doctor next to him nodded in agreement. “Robert Anderson, always so efficient—and so dedicated to his daughter.” “Don’t worry, we have the OR ready. Once the donor completes pre-op checks, we can start. A father as connected and involved as you—this child is truly lucky.” The head nurse joined in: “Yes, Robert Anderson’s here practically every day—we all notice. It’s rare to find a successful man who’s also so family-focused and responsible.” Another doctor added: “I heard Robert Anderson not only works tirelessly for his daughter but also started a personal assistance fund to help other families facing similar struggles. That kind of generosity really earns our respect.” The hospital room filled with praise and admiration. He was being hailed as the perfect father and a generous man. Their voices trailed off, and someone even started clapping. The mood was upbeat and positive. Mom squeezed my hand, then pushed open the door, her voice sharp as ice: “Robert Anderson, that ‘recheck’ you mentioned… was it just a trick to turn my daughter into a donor for your love child?”

The room went dead silent. All the congratulatory smiles froze on their faces. Doctors, nurses, and the specialist all gaped at our sudden entrance, then at my dad and Summer, whose faces had gone white as sheets. My dad jumped up like he’d been burned, knocking over a water glass. “El-Eleanor? Hazel? What are you doing here…?” “Wondering why we’re not at the art exhibit?” Mom let go of my hand and stepped forward, her eyes sweeping over the girl in the bed who looked just like my dad, finally landing on his face. “If I hadn’t come, how else would I get to see my husband being so loving with his ‘important client’s’ daughter?” “Mrs. Anderson, please let me explain—this…” Summer tried to step forward but froze under Mom’s icy stare. “Explain what?” My voice shook—not from fear, but from anger so intense it felt cold. “Explain why you’re wearing what was supposed to be my mom’s anniversary gift? Explain why my dad is listed as your charity’s representative and your daughter’s legal guardian?” “Robert Anderson,” Mom didn’t even glance at Summer and Chloe, fixing her eyes on my dad, each word sharp as ice. “While I was swollen and exhausted during pregnancy, you were cooking for her. When I was fighting for my life during childbirth, you were out walking with her. When Hazel’s room caught fire as a kid, you didn’t even try to save her – you were rushing to see them, flicking a cigarette butt that nearly killed her! You only stuck around later because you were scared she’d remember, scared of losing my family’s money!” “Twenty years… Robert Anderson, twenty years married to you, just to get your carefully planned betrayal. And today, you tricked my daughter into being a donor for your love child?” Mom’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word cut through the silent hospital room, setting off a murmur of shock. The doctors and nurses who’d just been praising my dad now wore stunned expressions, whispering and exchanging looks. Oh my God, is that his wife? That sick girl is his mistress’s kid? Only six months younger than his real daughter? He cheated while his wife was pregnant! They were just calling him a great dad and philanthropist, but he’s using his wife’s family money to support his mistress! No wonder he was so pushy about the donor – he was plotting against his own daughter… My dad’s face turned red then white, veins bulging in his forehead. He tried to sound calm. “What are you talking about?! Let’s discuss this at home! This is a hospital, the child is sick – don’t cause a scene here!” “Making a scene?” Mom scoffed like she’d heard something ridiculous. She held up her phone, showing screenshots of evidence Mr. Davison had sent. “Robert Anderson, should I show these ‘angels in white’ your property deeds, bank transfers, and vacation photos with them? Let them see how this ‘generous’ Mr. Robert has been living off my family’s money while treating us like garbage!” “You!” My dad snapped, lunging to grab her phone. “What, gonna get violent?” Mom stood her ground. “With all these witnesses? Where was your shame when you were doing those disgusting things?!” Chloe, who’d been quiet, suddenly screamed: “Who are you people? Why are you yelling at my daddy! Daddy’s mine! He’s not yours!” She tried to struggle out of bed. Summer quickly hugged her, tears streaming, begging Mom: “Mrs. Anderson, it was all my fault. Please don’t involve the child—she’s so sick, she can’t handle this… Robert was just confused, trying to save his daughter. Hazel is Chloe’s biological sister after all. If they match, saving her sister’s life is the right thing to do…” I finally let out a bitter laugh. “Sister? My mom only had me. Saving her would be a choice, not an obligation. You tricked me into blood tests without consent—that’s illegal! And Dad, you said ‘anything to save Chloe.’ So if it means taking my bone marrow and hurting me, that’s still ‘worth it’?” My dad looked away, his lips trembling. He couldn’t speak. “Good. Real good.” Mom nodded, the last warmth leaving her eyes. She ignored my dad’s pathetic excuses, pulling out her phone and dialing a number on speaker. “Dad, you heard all that, right?” The door opened again. My grandfather, Mr. Harrison, walked in with his cane, accompanied by Mr. Davison. He wore a sharp tailored suit, his face grim, eyes like steel. They swept over my dad’s crumpled figure, then fixed on Summer and Chloe with cold scrutiny. “Robert Anderson,” Mr. Harrison’s voice carried the quiet authority of a lifetime in charge, silencing the room. “Effective immediately, you’re terminated from all company positions. Any assets funded or guaranteed by the Harrison family will be frozen and liquidated.” “Dad! Mr. Harrison!” My dad panicked, trying to rush forward but blocked by Mr. Davison. “You can’t do this! I built this company…” “Built it with what?” Mr. Harrison cut him off sharply. “Without Harrison capital, connections, and my daughter managing your life all these years, your little shop would’ve failed. Lawyers are already investigating your embezzlement to fund your mistress. For Hazel’s sake, I’ll offer this: walk away with nothing, or face criminal charges.” Summer shrieked: “How dare you! Those are Robert’s earnings!” Mr. Harrison didn’t spare her a glance, addressing my dad directly: “Your choice: sign the divorce papers, surrender what’s not yours, or we’ll see you in court. And we can add child endangerment charges for trying to coerce Hazel into medical procedures without consent.” My dad went pale as a ghost, staggering back into the hospital bed. Mr. Harrison turned, his expression softening as he looked at Mom and me. “Eleanor, Hazel, let’s go home.” As we headed for the door, Chloe suddenly grabbed a water cup from her nightstand and threw it at me. “You’re the bad guys! You ruined my daddy! You ruined everything!” Mom pulled me behind her just as the cup shattered against the wall. Mom paused, turning back to Summer and Chloe. “Remember this: We didn’t ruin anything. Your mother and my husband built their life on lies and betrayal—it was always going to fall apart.” Stepping into the hallway, the sunlight was almost blinding. Hysterical crying and shouting echoed behind us. Mom squeezed my hand tightly—her palm was cold but trembling. I squeezed back, trying to share some warmth.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “348483”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

After my best friend, Ashley, got hooked on gambling, she suddenly got super excited and said she wanted to take me to a high-stakes casino city. “I just won big, I’m treating you to a luxury hotel stay!” But once the plane landed, she dragged me straight into a private room deep inside a casino. “Look, I actually lost fifty million dollars, and if I can’t pay it back, they’re going to sell me to human traffickers.” “But the casino owner is looking for a woman with a crescent moon birthmark, and if I can help him find her, all my debts will be wiped clean!” “I saw you had one on your stomach when you showered! I’m so sorry, Maya, but I really don’t want to die!” I was pinned to the sofa by four burly men when my eyes landed on a child’s drawing hanging on the wall. It was a doodle I’d made for my dad before I was kidnapped. He cherished it, saying he’d keep it forever. Turns out, this casino owner… was my long-lost father! By the time I realized something was terribly wrong and tried to leave, it was already too late. “Maya, fifty million dollars, I just can’t pay it back! I brought you here to help me clear my debt!” I sucked in a sharp breath, my throat tightening with fear, I even forgot how to breathe. “Ashley, you sold me out?” “We’ve known each other for over ten years, you’re my best friend, and you sold me for fifty million?!” My accusation made her stumble back, shaking her head. “Don’t look at me like that… This casino owner is insanely wealthy, and the only thing he really likes is women with a crescent moon birthmark. For a woman like that, he’d wipe away any amount of gambling debt…” “He has this unusual preference, and you happen to have that birthmark. So, me bringing you here… it’s for your own good, really. What if he picks you? You’d be his mistress, loaded for life!” The image of a creepy old man flashed through my mind. I shivered, pushing her away and trying to leave. “If you want to be his mistress, go ahead. I’m going home!” But before I could even touch the doorknob, a heavy blow landed on the back of my head. “Maya, you forced my hand!” My head reeled, stars burst behind my eyes, and I stumbled a few steps before collapsing to the floor. She leaned over, snatching the pink bead from my pocket. “Don’t think I don’t know. You came with me not for a vacation, but to find your biological parents.” “Now that you’re here, if you help me with this debt, I’ll help you find your parents. But if you dare to run… you can forget about a family reunion for the rest of your life.” The pain in the back of my head was excruciating. I struggled to move my lips, my heart sinking into despair. I was kidnapped when I was five. The traffickers, afraid of exposure, immediately changed my clothes, shaved my head, and threw away everything I had. Only this bead, carved with my childhood nickname, Lark, had been hidden under my tongue. For sixteen years, I’d forgotten the way home. My memories from before I was five had faded a lot. This bead was the only thing I had left that connected me to my parents. Now the bead was gone, and with it, all hope. “Smart move.” Ashley had just finished speaking when the private room door opened. Several fierce-looking men walked in. “Ashley, right? Heard you brought something to clear your debt?” Ashley quickly pointed at me and nodded. “Gage, isn’t the boss looking for a woman with a crescent moon birthmark? This is my best friend, Maya, and she has one on her stomach!” “You see, I brought her here, so my fifty million…” The man in charge didn’t even lift an eyelid. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “What’s the rush? Let’s verify the goods first.” His subordinates immediately pounced, dragging me and pressing me onto the sofa. In a flash, they stripped off my jacket. One man reached for my T-shirt, and I kicked his shin with all my might. “Get off me! Don’t touch me!” “You bitch, you dare to kick me?” The man spat, then raised his hand and slapped my face twice. Stars burst behind my eyes, and before I could speak, a terrifying gunshot echoed through the room. The man screamed, clutching his leg as he fell backward, a bullet wound blooming on his shin. Gage stood there, gun in hand, his face expressionless. “You lay hands on her before I’m done verifying? You got a death wish?” “Get him out of here. Don’t stain the boss’s carpet.” The others, still shaken, mumbled in agreement and quickly dragged the man away. I was no longer restrained, but I was stiff with terror, afraid to move a muscle. They had guns. If I struggled again, I’d be next to get shot. In the corner, Ashley was terrified too, but a flicker of determination hardened her eyes. “Gage, she really does have a crescent moon birthmark on her stomach, the exact kind the boss wants!” Gage shot her a cold glance, and she instantly trembled, lowering her head. “You guys, go on. Make it quick, don’t waste my time.” Four more men lunged at me. I struggled backward, shrinking into the sofa, when suddenly I saw a familiar crayon drawing on the wall. It depicted a family of three flying a kite, and on the head of the little girl with pigtails in the middle, was a name I could never forget, even in death. “Lark.” I’d drawn that just before I was kidnapped. My mom adored it, and my dad had smiled, saying he’d keep it forever. It’s Dad! All these years, he’d been looking for me too! Overwhelmed with emotion, I pushed myself up on the sofa. “Is your boss’s last name…?” “So many questions. Ten to one, she’s just trying something sneaky.” Gage impatiently cut me off, aiming his gun at my forehead. “You, shut up.” “You guys, take her clothes off. Verify the goods.”

A cold dread washed over me instantly. He’d shot his own man, let alone me! Ashley trembled, whispering, trying to persuade me. “Maya, just cooperate. Once they’re done verifying, I can leave. If you keep this up, I’ll end up dead too…” Even now, she was only thinking of herself! I looked at the drawing again, deciding to play it cool for now. If Dad came after the verification, we could reunite, and all these problems would be solved. Gritting my teeth, I endured the humiliation, letting them pull up my T-shirt. Below my navel, the crescent moon birthmark was clearly visible. “Gage, this one looks real!” Gage immediately strode over. A flicker of surprise crossed his face when he saw the birthmark, and he murmured softly. “It really is exactly like the one the boss drew…” Ashley knew things were settled, and she simpered, trying to please him. “Gage, now that the goods have been verified, about my fifty million…” Gage stared at my birthmark, waving his right hand. “Cleared. Now get lost.” “Okay, okay, I’m going right now!” Ashley nodded vigorously, turning to run. But my bead was still with her! I quickly jumped off the sofa, reaching out to grab her clothes. “Ashley, you can’t leave…” “Don’t let her run!” Gage barked, and the nearest subordinate kicked me in the stomach. I couldn’t dodge in time and fell backward, my head hitting the corner of a table. Gage exploded in anger. “You looking for trouble? How many times have I said not to touch her before confirmation!” The spot where Ashley had hit me still throbbed, and now something was oozing out. I leaned against the table, raising a hand to touch it. My hand came away covered in blood. My vision slowly blurred. I felt my consciousness slipping away, my limbs starting to disobey me. Can’t faint… I haven’t seen Dad yet… “Damn it, Gage, she’s bleeding!” Someone shouted, pointing at me in a panic. Gage’s brows furrowed. “You two, go find a doctor. You two, go find the boss. Tell him this birthmark looks very similar and have him come take a look.” “The rest of you, be careful. If she really is the woman the boss wants, if you upset her now, and she complains to the boss later, we’ll all be in deep trouble!” Several subordinates scattered, running into Ashley who was standing by the door. She looked stunned. After a while, she asked, trembling. “Gage… doesn’t the boss just want a mistress? Is a mistress that important?” Gage’s harsh gaze swept over her. “Of course. Otherwise, why would the boss be so generous? Anyone who brings her in gets their debt cleared?” “But not just anyone can clear their debt this way.” “Before, people brought women with crescent moon birthmarks, but they didn’t know exactly where the boss wanted the birthmark to be. They just tattooed one on randomly and brought them over.” “And they were all… dealt with by the boss.” Ashley shivered, hearing Gage’s final words. “You’re lucky, though. This woman’s crescent moon is exactly where the boss wants it, not an inch off.” “Just wait. If she really is the woman the boss wants, not only will your fifty million be waived, but your best friend will also treat you to the high life, and you’ll enjoy every luxury together.” Ashley’s eyes darted around, her expression changing. I had a bad feeling, and with my remaining consciousness, I opened my mouth. “I, I am…” “Gage, I’m sorry!” Ashley suddenly lunged at me, her sharp nails digging into my thigh. “Her birthmark is fake!” “I can’t lie to the boss. I’ll pay back the fifty million, I’m not clearing my debt this way!”

Gage immediately roared in anger. “Ashley, you’ve got a death wish!” “No! She forced me to come here!” The gun was aimed at her, and she dropped to her knees with a thud. “She found out where the birthmark should be from somewhere, went to a tattoo parlor, and forced me to bring her here.” “She said she wanted to hook up with the boss and live a life of luxury!” “It’s true, she threatened me! If I didn’t bring her, she’d kill my parents!” Ashley pleaded incessantly, tears streaming down her face. I gasped for air beside her, shaking my head vigorously. “I didn’t… I am…” “Maya, stop lying! You can fool him for a while, but not forever. If the boss finds out your birthmark is fake, you’ll die an even worse death!” Gage looked down at me, his sharp eyes scrutinizing my exposed crescent moon birthmark, as if trying to discern which of us was telling the truth. But he didn’t seem to know that my father was looking for his daughter, not a mistress. If he had looked at my face more closely, he might have noticed the resemblance between Dad and me… Suddenly, shouts came from outside. “Gage, those guys are causing trouble in the main hall again!” Gage grabbed his gun and headed out. “You guys, guard the door. Don’t let either of them leave. I’ll be right back.” The private room door closed, leaving only Ashley and me. Ashley lowered her voice. “I can’t believe the casino owner’s obsession is so intense. If the birthmark matches, you get to be the boss’s lady!” I struggled to stay conscious, but my body kept sliding down. The blood from the back of my head was increasing, and I probably couldn’t last much longer. “What… what do you want…?” A wild look flashed across her face, her chest heaving as she spoke. “I was wrong. I thought he just wanted a mistress to sleep with… No, I can’t let you become the boss’s lady.” “Otherwise, you’d never let me off the hook… just like I won’t let you off!” I gasped, shaking my head. “We’re best friends. If you let me go, I’ll let bygones be bygones.” “Impossible. You must hate my guts!” “Really… Think about it, without me, how will you pay back that fifty million? They’ll sell you to human traffickers, and that’s worse than death!” Ashley froze for a moment, then looked down, her eyes darting around rapidly. Seeing a glimmer of hope, I continued. “Let me go, I swear I won’t say anything. I’ll make sure you live the high life, and that fifty million… I’ll pay it for you.” Her expression finally shifted. She licked her dry lips. I secretly sighed in relief. But before I could exhale completely, she suddenly clenched her fist. “No, you’re so stubborn, you never gave up searching for your biological parents for over ten years. How could you let me off the hook?” “I can figure out another way for the fifty million, but you can’t be left alive!” With that, she found a small knife, and its tip plunged directly into my crescent moon birthmark! “Ah—” I shrieked in agony, only for her to clap a hand over my mouth. She traced a line along the crescent moon, then pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid, forcing it down my throat. A bitter taste seared my throat, and I immediately felt something was terribly wrong. “Don’t be scared. This anesthetic takes effect in twenty minutes. After that, you’ll pass out. No matter what happens, you won’t feel a thing.” She tossed the empty bottle and knife under the table, whispering frantically in my ear. “I’m sorry, Maya. If only one of us can survive, it has to be me!”

The anesthetic spread through my body. I felt all my strength drain away, and I slid to the floor, feeling as if I could pass out any second. Just then, Gage returned. Seeing the scene, his brows furrowed as he looked at Ashley. “What happened?” Ashley, tears streaming down her face, pointed at me. “Gage, she was afraid of the pain when she got the tattoo, and she ran off before the last part was colored in.” “Now the wound has reopened… she’s in too much pain, saying she’s dizzy…” Gage’s eyes dropped, and he saw a thin line, indeed bleeding, at the top of my crescent moon. “It really is fake…” “Go tell the boss not to waste his time coming over. This one’s fake too.” A shadow fell over me, and a cold touch pressed against my stomach. “You almost got me killed with your trick.” “You like crescent moons, don’t you? Then I’ll cut this piece of skin off and sew it onto your face!” What… The knife tip pierced deeper into the wound. My dying consciousness was jolted, and I struggled, trying to scream. “No—I’m the person the boss is looking for!” “He’s not looking for a mistress, he’s looking for his daughter! I’m his daughter!” A moment of dead silence fell over the private room. Gage gave a cold laugh. “No wonder you dared to get a tattoo and send yourself to your death, you’ve got guts. You’d say anything.” “Our boss doesn’t even have a wife. How dare you impersonate his daughter?” The knife tip deepened by another inch, and the anesthetic took full effect. I couldn’t feel the pain, but I couldn’t speak either. Through the haze, someone nearby reminded Gage. “Gage, this is the boss’s favorite carpet…” The knife was immediately pulled out. Gage stood up. “Take her away. Get someone to clean the carpet.” “Gage, should we just sell her to human traffickers?” My heart tightened. I watched him wipe the knife with a handkerchief, his eyes venomous. “Take her to the VIP section. Let the guests have their fun with her, then sell her when they’re tired.” “What about that woman…?” Ashley immediately fell to her knees, wringing her hands and begging. “Gage, just give me five more days! I promise I’ll pay back the fifty million. If I don’t, you can do whatever you want with me!” Gage frowned in thought for a moment, then held up three fingers. “Three days.” “Okay, three days it is! I’ll go raise the money right now!” I was lifted up, tried to struggle, but had no strength. I could only watch Ashley rush out of the room like a madwoman, without a single glance back. Two minutes later, I was thrown into the noisy VIP section. Countless men and women gathered around. Someone shouted. “Hey, isn’t that the crescent moon birthmark Mr. Thorne likes so much?” Everyone laughed. “Another one trying to gamble with Mr. Thorne.” “Normal, if you actually win that bet, you become the owner’s wife, living the ultimate high life.” “Too bad, this young girl lost her bet. Looks like she’ll have to find another country to live in.” Some pulled at my T-shirt, some grabbed my ankles, others, disgusted by my blood-soaked state, walked away, pinching their noses. I was like a discarded rag, unable to move or struggle. I could only stare up at the gilded ceiling, a deep sense of injustice churning inside me. I was just one step away from reuniting with Dad… Suddenly, the entire hall fell silent. A steady set of footsteps approached. “Boss, Gage said this one definitely isn’t it, so he told us to just toss her here.” “Hmm, you handle it.” It was Dad’s voice, just as I remembered! The footsteps turned, moving in the opposite direction. I panicked. I didn’t know where the strength came from, but I croaked out a desperate cry. “I’m Lark!” The footsteps abruptly stopped. That gaze, intense and piercing, turned directly towards me.

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To save me, my twenty-five-year-old husband was thrown from a tall building by his assailants. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was chillingly distant from me. He claimed he was from ten years in the future, back to set everything right. He said that at thirty-five, he would cheat on me with another woman, three years into our marriage. He said we’d grown to despise each other long ago, but were bound together for ten years because of our child. He said he and Ashley also had a child. And his first demand upon returning to his twenty-five-year-old self was for me to abort our unborn twins and divorce him. The very next morning, Liam discharged himself and brought Ashley home. I was rushed back by his parents, only to find him holding Ashley’s hand, declaring, “Ashley is my true love. She’s the only one who truly understands me, the one I’m meant to spend my life with. I have to marry her!” “As for Chloe, I owe her. I’ll compensate her after the divorce.” His parents were livid, their faces crimson with rage, sputtering that he had lost his mind. The man who had always loved me, now so utterly devoted to another woman. I looked at him, a bitter ache twisting in my gut. “Liam, were you serious about what you said last night?” He’d been in a coma for almost a month. But when he opened his eyes, he was a different man, claiming to be Liam from ten years in the future. I thought he was disoriented, rambling nonsense because of amnesia. I hadn’t believed him. But now, he was unwavering. Liam’s gaze was as chilling as last night’s. No love, no tenderness—just cold, hard indifference. “Chloe, how many times do I have to say it? I didn’t lose my memory. I remember everything. But I genuinely don’t love you anymore!” Seeing the disgust in his eyes, my heart clenched with a sharp pain. “But we only got married three months ago! You swore you’d only ever love me…” Liam frowned. Before he could speak, Ashley started crying. “Chloe, I know your family is wealthier than mine, and you’re the more suitable match for Liam. But he loves me now. Please, just let us be together!” I suddenly remembered what Liam had told me last night. He said he’d met Ashley three years in the future, when he was on duty. He later learned that due to her impoverished background, she was exploited by wealthy men and ended up working in a club. His concern and pity for her after that incident eventually led to them falling in love. But by then, I had already given birth to Liam’s child. That’s why our parents always refused to let us divorce. So Liam and I were stuck together for ten years. Eventually, Ashley, unable to cope, took her own life and her child’s, jumping from the eighteenth floor. He was back now to fix things before any of that could happen. So he’d found Ashley ahead of time. I sympathized with Ashley’s past, but I couldn’t bring myself to like her. Liam, however, gently helped her up, his eyes full of tenderness, and warned his parents. “Mom, Dad, if you still don’t agree, I’ll quit my job and end my life!” He was using his life as leverage. His parents had no choice but to agree. Liam immediately left with Ashley, intending to propose at her home. After they left, Liam’s parents unleashed all their anger on me. They demanded to know why Liam had changed so drastically after waking up, why his heart had turned after only three months of marriage. I couldn’t answer. How could I tell them… The Liam who walked with me from campus to the altar was gone. Inside his body was the soul of his thirty-five-year-old self. And the thirty-five-year-old Liam didn’t love me. I stumbled out of the house. The biting cold wind of early winter hit my face, yet none of this felt real. How could Liam not love me? When we were eighteen, we went to the same university. After an art competition, he found me, his cheeks flushed, and asked for my number. I looked at his handsome profile, my own ears instantly burning red. He said then, “The moment I saw you, my heart went wild.” He said, “I want to be with you forever.” We started dating when we were twenty, traveling to countless cities. In every city, he would propose to me. He said then that he’d propose to me every year until I was a hundred, until I finally said yes. When I was twenty-four, I was freezing to death on a snowy mountain. He piled all his clothes on me. When the rescue team found us, he was barely clinging to life, but still held me tight. Later, I finally said yes to his proposal. He was so happy he spun me around more than a dozen times. The next day, he flew to the States to meet my parents, and at our wedding, he promised to love only me for the rest of his life. Even when we fell from the building together, he held me close, saying, “Chloe, if there’s a next life, let’s be together then too.” I was unharmed, but he suffered multiple fractures. I swore that when he woke up, I’d spend the rest of my life repaying his profound love. But I never imagined that Liam would one day say he didn’t love me! I wiped away my tears and started walking towards Ashley’s house. I refuse to believe that Liam, who loved me so much, would cheat on me. I’ll make the thirty-five-year-old Liam go back to his own body!

As soon as I reached their yard, I heard intimate sounds coming from inside the house. “…Liam, slow down… Mmm, that feels amazing…” The door was ajar, and I pushed it open instantly. Liam was holding Ashley, one hand kneading her chest, the other pressing the back of her head as he kissed her deeply. My pupils constricted. “Liam, what are you doing?!” I couldn’t believe a man with such self-control could lose himself to desire like this. Was this man, standing before me, truly the Liam I’d been in love with for seven years? Hearing my voice, Liam immediately reined in his look of desire, turning his head coldly. “What I do has nothing to do with you. Get out!” I bit back the pain in my heart, forcing myself to meet his familiar yet icy eyes. “This is my husband’s body! We’re not divorced yet!” Liam scoffed. “Your husband is me, isn’t he?” But I stubbornly shook my head. “You’re not him. Give him back to me!” He finally released a flushed Ashley, murmuring a few soft words in her ear, then roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me out. I never imagined Liam, who had always treated me with such tenderness, wanting to hold me in the palm of his hand, would ever treat me like this. Even the thirty-five-year-old him wouldn’t be this cruel! Outside, before he could speak, I asked him, “Tell me, what do I need to do to make you return to your own body?” “If you’re worried about Ashley, I can give her a large sum of money to send her abroad…” Liam was unmoved. “I came back to marry her. I want to be with Ashley forever.” Forever… He’d just used that word in our wedding vows three months ago. And the person he’d sworn it to was me. A sudden, sharp pain made it almost impossible to breathe. Then I remembered the crucifix he had specially sought out for me before our wedding. “You’re not Liam…” “Liam even swore an oath at a famous church, promising to love only me, always and forever!” “Please, I’m begging you. Just bring my husband back, and I’ll agree to anything you ask…” Liam’s expression seemed to falter for a split second, but the next moment, his tone grew even more brutal. “Chloe, I hate it when you look like this! Don’t you know how pathetic you look when you cry?” “You don’t seriously think that if the twenty-five-year-old Liam returned, he’d love you forever, do you?” “Everything I told you before is true. Three years from now, I will fall madly in love with Ashley.” “I am the Liam from the future. You’re just finding out the ending of this marriage ahead of time!” “Cutting our losses now is better for both of us.” His words left me speechless. Deep down, I understood that if he truly was the Liam from ten years in the future, then my persistence right now was pointless. But I preferred to believe that he was merely possessed by someone claiming to be Liam. I took a deep breath. “If you can convince the twenty-five-year-old Liam himself to tell me he doesn’t love me, then I’ll leave willingly. Otherwise, forget it!” Liam stared at me for a moment, then twisted his lips into a mocking smile. “Dream on.” He pulled out divorce papers and forcibly thrust them into my hand. “Sign the papers if you know what’s good for you. Otherwise, I’m happy to drag this through a messy divorce court!”

Liam didn’t come back to our home that night. I tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting into a restless sleep. In my dream, I vaguely remembered Madame Zelda’s words from back then. Liam had asked Madame Zelda to read our love line with Tarot cards, but she shook her head, a knowing look in her eyes: “Your love line… I cannot read it for you.” I didn’t care much for these things, but Liam was adamant. Eventually, Madame Zelda said that if he was truly sincere, he first had to go to a remote chapel and retrieve a crucifix, proving his true feelings for me. Then she would reconsider. That chapel was very far from us, with no public transportation. You had to drive, and it was a ten-hour journey. I felt bad for him and convinced Liam to drop it that day. After all, true love lives in the everyday. I had eyes; I saw his love. I didn’t need this to prove it. But the next evening, a battered and exhausted Liam, his eyes sparkling, held up a crucifix. “Honey! I did it!” I just had to laugh at his foolishness. When I woke up, I lay still for a long time, then immediately went to find Madame Zelda. I needed to ask if she had foreseen something back then, and if there was a solution to my current situation. Madame Zelda asked me, “Why didn’t you leave him sooner?” I was about to protest, but she drew my gaze to another part of the room. One look, and a wave of anger washed over me. Liam was embracing Ashley, coming to the fortune teller together. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, convincing myself I was here to seek guidance. Madame Zelda looked at my pale face, sighed, and handed me a Tarot card. “Take this home, tape it above your bed, and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll have your answer.” I followed Madame Zelda’s instructions, taping the card to my headboard. After that, I had a very long, vivid dream. I dreamed I was seven months pregnant, going for a prenatal check-up. On the way home, Liam received an emergency call from the precinct, leaving me to go home alone. On my way back, I got into a car accident and went into premature labor, losing one of the twins. Liam held the deceased baby, his eyes red-rimmed, demanding why I hadn’t been more careful. I, too, was heartbroken over the loss of our child. That incident became a wedge between us. Later, our surviving daughter was diagnosed with autism at three years old. Liam’s assignments at the precinct grew more frequent, and he came home less and less. I became a shadow of my former self. I’d secretly check his phone, drop by the station unannounced when he worked late, and tell our daughter, “Daddy doesn’t want us anymore.” Almost every time he came home, we’d have a huge fight. “If you hadn’t given birth to her, we wouldn’t be living in such misery!” In the dream, Liam slammed the door and left. A month later, I found a movie ticket stub in the pocket of his police uniform, which he’d left for the laundry. It was for a couple’s row. I stared at the ticket stub, my eyes welling up. That night, he had told me he’d been at the station all night interrogating a suspect. Later, similar incidents piled up. The scent of perfume clinging to his clothes, the accidental lipstick stain on his collar, and that unlabeled but frequently called number on his phone. I watched, scene by scene, as things became irrevocably broken. Ashley gave birth to a son, healthy and remarkably bright. On our daughter’s fifth birthday, he promised to take her to an amusement park but broke the promise because he had to take Ashley’s son to the hospital. Our daughter cried, asking, “Mommy, does Daddy not like us at all?” We hated the sight of each other, but stayed together for our child. Finally, the scene froze on Ashley standing at the edge of a rooftop with her son. She smiled at a frantic Liam, saying, “Liam, next life, I hope I meet you sooner.” Then she jumped. And Liam, eyes bloodshot and sharp as knives, glared at me. “Chloe, are you happy now?” I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. I touched my still-flat stomach, my mind a chaotic mess. Before seeing the future with my own eyes, I’d always thought, how could our relationship ever reach that point? But after witnessing, firsthand, how Liam’s and my marriage gradually decayed… I closed my eyes. As he wished, I signed the divorce papers.

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My husband, Mark Vance, and his intern, Tiffany Bloom, were in the middle of a three-day sex challenge. I sent him the news: I was pregnant. The next second, Mark called me on FaceTime. On the screen, he and Tiffany were sitting on a sex swing in some kinky hotel room, handcuffs and whips dangling nearby. “Go get rid of it,” he said, his voice flat. “Tiffany would be so upset otherwise.” I calmly refused him. “No way.” Mark paused, then sneered. “Then divorce it is.” A wave of relief washed over me. “Good. I’ll get the divorce papers ready immediately!” My dream of becoming a single mom, on my own terms, was finally coming true. “Ashley Hayes, be reasonable. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Mark snuffed out his cigarette. I shook my head. “I’m not making anything harder. I love this baby. I’m having it!” At my words, Tiffany, nestled in his arms, burst into louder sobs. Half out of spite, half as a blatant challenge to me, she hooked her arms around Mark’s neck and bit him hard. Mark didn’t spare me a single glance. He just pulled her in for a searing deep kiss. Knowing when I wasn’t wanted, I quietly ended the FaceTime call and called a cab to head home. As soon as I got in the car, Mark’s call came through again. His neck was dotted with fresh bite marks. “She got upset and bit me. Don’t worry, they’ll be gone before I come home.” Only then did I remember. Mark and I had an agreement. No matter how many women he was with, no matter how wild he got, he had to come home spotless. No traces. He had cheated so many times, so often that I’d forgotten when I stopped loving him. I immediately shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re getting divorced anyway.” He stared at me, his lips pressed together, saying nothing. Then, Tiffany started to throw another tantrum. “You’re never going to get rid of the baby! Are you?! I’m never going to be intimate with you again!” Tiffany started punching Mark’s chest. Mark’s expression tightened. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and delivered his final ultimatum to me. “Ashley, I don’t want this baby.” “You don’t want it, but I do!” I quickly hung up. When I got out of the cab, the driver hesitated, then spoke. “Your husband is unbelievable! Aren’t you going to confront that woman?” I simply smiled. “I did! That’s how I lost my first baby.” The driver fell silent, unable to find another word. I’d never been loved by my parents. They showered all their affection on my cousin, barely giving me the time of day. So, I always yearned for someone, a blood relative, to love me unconditionally. I met Mark just a week before I was scheduled to visit a sperm bank. He was handsome, intelligent. Soon, I started wanting to have a child with him. I even fell in love. Later, I married Mark, just as I’d wanted. When I first discovered his infidelity, I, like any wife, was devastated, heartbroken, and hysterical. But he would always apologize, and then, behind my back, he’d continue his affairs. I looked down, gently stroking the life growing inside me. After the divorce, I would raise this child well.

I was drafting the divorce papers when Mark walked in, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Mark always brought me a gift when he came home. Sometimes it was cake, sometimes jewelry. He skillfully replaced the withered roses in the vase, his tone gentle. “Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the clinic for the abortion.” Such a gentle voice, yet such chilling words. In the past, I would have cried and fought with him. But I didn’t love him anymore. I held up my laptop for him to see. “Here are the divorce papers. If there are no issues, I’ll print them.” Mark, still holding a dried rose, a slight smile playing on his lips, said, “Still throwing a fit, huh?” He sighed, then smoothly ran his hand through my long hair. “Ashley, I’m exhausted. Can we please not do this right now?” Three days and three nights with Tiffany in a kinky hotel, of course he was exhausted. “Mark, I’m serious.” But Mark pushed the laptop back, then ignored me, slumping onto the couch. “Ashley, could you whip up that protein shake for me? The one with all the boosters.” I ignored him. We were getting divorced; he still expected me to be his caretaker?! “If you’re okay with it, I’m heading to the print shop.” Mark suddenly jolted up from the couch. “You’re really going to divorce me?” I nodded without hesitation. He sat up on the couch, waving me over with a dismissive gesture, like I was his pet. “Bring it over. Let me see.” I handed it to him. He scanned it quickly. “Go print it.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I transferred the document to my phone, grabbed my jacket, and headed downstairs. As I closed the door, Mark leaned back on the couch, smiling at me, but the smile never reached his eyes. When I returned from the print shop, I found Mark and Tiffany roughhousing in the kitchen. “Careful! You’re hurting me!” Tiffany pouted, reaching out to pinch Mark’s face. He leaned down, cupped her waist, and kissed her. What a picture of pure domestic bliss, like something from a bad rom-com. Unfortunately, my opening the door broke the spell. Mark’s hand, which had been on Tiffany’s waist, dropped instantly. His eyes, however, remained tender. “You’re back.” Tiffany acted as if she hadn’t seen me, clutching his shirt and murmuring about not having enough kisses. Mark glanced at me. “Tiffany’s spoiled, Ashley. Don’t be mad.” In our three years of marriage, Tiffany had been his longest-running affair, the one he clearly doted on the most. I nodded, walking over with the divorce papers. “I’ve signed it. Once you sign, we can finalize the divorce on Monday.” Seeing Tiffany pouting and clinging to him, I added considerately, “I can move out today to give you two some space.” Tiffany’s eyes immediately lit up. “Oh, can I move in tonight then?!”

The day after I stopped loving him, I rented an apartment that I’d kept empty all these years. I couldn’t stand being in a place that carried Mark’s scent. “Just sign first. I’ll go pack my things.” I placed the document on the table and turned to get my suitcase from the balcony. “You don’t care about me at all!” Amidst Tiffany’s soft accusations, a warm body pressed against my back. Mark had one arm around me, the other reaching for my suitcase. “Ashley, are you still mad?” I felt a surge of nausea and instinctively tried to push him away. Mark only held me tighter. “You found out about the challenge, didn’t you? If you’re mad, once I’ve recovered, we can try an even bigger challenge…” “Don’t touch me!” I couldn’t help it. I stomped on his foot. As Mark winced in pain, I broke free from his embrace. As much as I used to crave his hugs, I now found them utterly repulsive. His arms had been wrapped around another woman just moments ago, and now he was holding me, whispering sweet nothings. A flicker of shock crossed Mark’s eyes. He maintained the pose of holding me. “Ashley, what will it take for you to stop being angry?” “If you don’t want to go tomorrow, we can pick another day, and I’ll go with you to get rid of the baby.” As he said this, his usual gentleness returned. But Mark’s gentleness was like a puddle of mud; anyone could step in it. I suppressed the urge to gag. “No need. Just sign the papers quickly. I’ll make space for you two.” The curve of Mark’s lips gradually straightened. “Ashley, I don’t want this baby.” “Stop acting out. I’m serious.” “So am I.” The darkness in Mark’s eyes deepened, his aura growing colder. Just as I thought he was about to explode, He simply curved his lips. “How about tomorrow? My friend’s having a birthday party. You don’t mind if I take Tiffany, do you?” Mark was smiling, but I felt no warmth from it. Whether he smiled or not was irrelevant to me now. I shook my head. “Whatever.” Mark turned without hesitation, striding over to sweep the crying girl into a princess carry. His voice was louder than usual, resonating through the house. “My little crybaby. I just said a few words to Ashley, and your eyes are all swollen. You’re only allowed to cry like that in bed from now on.” Tiffany choked back a sob and nodded. As they left, Tiffany spoke, seemingly casually. “Oh, are there roses here too?” “But they’re not as big as the ones you gave me, and not as red…” The rest of her words were swallowed by the closing door. I walked over, picked up the vase, flowers and all, and tossed them into the trash. Mark seemed to be deliberately provoking me, his Ins feed refreshed eighteen times that night. Every single post was sickeningly intimate shots with Tiffany. We were getting divorced anyway; there was no point in keeping him. I unfollowed him, then switched to my burner account to unfollow, only to find those eighteen posts were set to “visible only to me.” I’d made this burner account back when I still loved him, just to keep tabs on his shenanigans. Since I didn’t love him anymore, there was no need for it. I deactivated the burner account and started packing. By midnight, all my belongings had been moved to the rented apartment. For the first time, the air felt fresh, devoid of that foul, decaying stench, filled only with the scent of me and my baby. Lying on the unmade sofa, I slept soundly. Remembering I needed to ask him when he’d sign the divorce papers, I unblocked Mark and sent a message, only to get a red exclamation mark. I didn’t think much of it, quickly tidied up, and went to the supermarket for groceries. Even though I didn’t know if the baby was a boy or a girl, I couldn’t help but linger in the baby section. I picked out a few outfits, wondering if my child would like them. As I hesitated over a pink baby bottle, I heard a familiar voice. “The milk is over there! Don’t go that way…” It was Tiffany’s sickly sweet voice. Then Mark appeared, immediately rummaging through my shopping cart. “Ugh, Ashley, your taste is awful. Are you sure the baby will like these things?” “This outfit is for a five-month-old. The baby won’t even fit into it when it’s born, and you’re buying these already, right after getting pregnant?” “Ashley, do you… do you even like our baby?” Mark’s lips thinned, an expression I couldn’t decipher. I remembered that, from some unknown day, he had started looking at me like that often. Each time I asked what was wrong, Mark would open his mouth but say nothing for a long while. Then he started cheating. I put down the bottle and asked him, “Did you sign the agreement?” Mark scoffed. “Are you really that fond of this baby, or are you just still trying to get a rise out of me?” His expression was cold, completely unlike his usual gentle demeanor. He didn’t even bother to comfort Tiffany, who was now following him, red-eyed. I watched the woman publicly cling to Mark, demanding a kiss, and tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Does it matter?” “It’s either me and the baby, or just you.” Anyone who didn’t know him might think Mark was a deeply loving man. I stroked my belly. “Of course, it’s the baby.” A blood relative, someone who would love me for no reason. I had longed for it, for so long. Mark was, at best, a jerk I used to love. How could he compare to my child? Suddenly, Mark grabbed Tiffany by the waist. “She’s carrying my baby too, and I only want the child Tiffany gives me. Ashley, I don’t want the child you give me.” A flicker of shock crossed Tiffany’s eyes, quickly replaced by joy as she hugged him back, calling him ‘honey’. “Oh, don’t worry. This baby is for me. I would never ask you to take any responsibility for it,” I said. “Fine… just fine,” Mark ground out through clenched teeth. “Who knows if you’ll try to get child support from me!?” “I’m taking you to the clinic to get rid of it right now!”

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