Category: English

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1 The car crash three years ago derailed my entire existence. My mother passed away on the spot from a stress-induced heart attack. I lost my unborn baby. I was stripped of the PhD I was months away from earning. Overnight, I plummeted from a promising academic with a bright future to a convicted felon. It was not until today, the day of my release, that Victor dropped a bomb that shattered my reality. He picked me up from the prison gates and calmly confessed that I was never the one behind the wheel that night. He had drugged my drink, knocked me out cold, and dragged my unconscious body into the driver’s seat to take the fall for Daisy. He claimed Daisy had just gotten accepted into college and he could not let a DUI destroy her bright future. He actually had the nerve to say that since I had sponsored Daisy’s education for years, I surely would not have wanted to see her life ruined either. My mind went entirely blank. All the blood drained from my face until I looked like a drowned corpse. So in his eyes, my mother’s life, my baby, and my entire future were worth less than Daisy’s precious potential. “Pull over.” My voice was a violent tremor, sounding more like a pathetic whimper. I could not share the same oxygen as him for another second. But the luxury sedan kept cruising down the highway. Victor barely glanced at me as he laid out the real reason he came to get me. “Daisy and I had a baby. Today is his first birthday party. I need you to show up and pretend to be his mother.” My hand, which had been clawing blindly at the door handle, froze mid-air. I stared at him, feeling like a grotesque clown. “Why…” The word slipped out, weak and broken. Victor’s face softened into something resembling pity. He let out a heavy sigh. “Audrey, I am a man. You were locked up for three years. I have physical needs.” “So you slept with the girl I treated like a little sister. And then you locked me in a cage.” I forced myself to look at him. Boiling tears threatened to spill over my eyelashes. Victor’s eyes darkened, his tone shifting back to cold steel. “You are a thirty-year-old ex-con. I have been paying for your father’s medical bills the whole time you were inside. You have absolutely no right to question me.” The tears finally broke free. This nightmare was entirely his doing. If he had not drugged me, I never would have believed I committed the crime. He was the one who held me in the interrogation room, crying and swearing on his life. “Do not be scared, Audrey. I will wait for you. You are the only wife I will ever have.” During the thousand nights I spent shivering on a hard cot, surviving the humiliation of prison, he was busy playing house with another woman. “Audrey! Welcome home!” By the time I registered my surroundings, Victor had dragged me up the steps to my own house. Daisy immediately shoved a squirming baby into my arms, flashing a sickeningly sweet smile. “The guests are already here. Let’s go inside.” She was directing me around my own home, acting like the lady of the manor. Moving like a reanimated corpse, I walked into the grand living room. Instantly, a dozen pairs of eyes locked onto me. Shock. Pity. Pure disgust. I had not even taken three steps before the vicious whispers started. “That is her. The drunk driver who killed someone. I cannot believe she has the nerve to show her face.” “She has zero shame. Everyone knows Noah is not her kid. How can she wear those horns so proudly?” “What else is she going to do? You think an ex-con has the guts to cause a scene?” They exchanged knowing smirks and let out low, mocking laughs. It felt like walking on broken glass. Every step left me bleeding invisibly. In that room, I was nothing but a pathetic punchline. Noticing my arms shaking violently, Daisy reached out to take the baby. But the millisecond her fingers grazed the blanket, the infant let out a bloodcurdling scream. Daisy’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She violently snatched the boy out of my grip, looking at me like I was a literal monster. “Audrey, I know you hate the fact that Noah is here, but you cannot pinch him! He is just a baby!” My arms were still frozen in the air. I stared at her, utterly paralyzed by the sheer audacity of her lie. I took a step forward to defend myself. Before I could even speak, a massive force slammed into the side of my face. The room spun violently. I crashed hard onto the marble floor, my cheek burning like it had been held to a hot stove. “You sick psycho! Taking your anger out on an infant!” Victor stood over me, his face purple with rage, glaring at me with absolute revulsion. He pointed to a faint red mark on the baby’s thigh. Looking at it, a hysterical, broken laugh ripped from my throat. “My hands were literally holding his back the entire time. How could I…” “Shut up. I am sick of your lies.” Victor cut me off with the precision of a knife. He scooped the crying baby out of Daisy’s arms and stormed upstairs. Victor’s relatives immediately swarmed me like vultures. “Since you are out, keep your head down. You are an old woman with a criminal record. Stop causing drama.” “Victor was gracious enough to let you back into this house. Get on your knees and be grateful!” “Grateful?” I dragged myself off the floor, using the wall for support. My cheek was throbbing, but I was laughing so hard tears streamed down my face. “You think he is a good man? Do you have any idea that he was the one who put me in…” “Audrey!” Victor thundered from the top of the stairs, silencing me instantly. He marched down, grabbed my arm with bruising force, and plastered on a fake smile to usher the guests out the door. Once the heavy oak door clicked shut, he turned to me. His eyes were devoid of humanity. “I put you in that cell once. I can easily do it again.” “Noah needs a mother on paper. And you are not going to ruin my family.” The tears on my face felt absurd. I looked at my legally wedded husband, a man burning the world down to protect his mistress’s child. I smiled bitterly. “Your family?” “Victor. Who exactly is your wife?” “Do you even remember the baby I was carrying?” During the trial, I was the monster. The drunk driver. I sat at the defense table, head bowed, weeping in shame. Suddenly, a relative of the victim bypassed security and lunged at me with a fist. But Victor did not shield me. He threw his body over Daisy, who was sitting safely behind the railing. I took the hit. I bled out on the courtroom floor. As the paramedics loaded me onto the stretcher, my husband simply covered Daisy’s eyes. “Do not look. It is disgusting. You will get sick.” At that moment, I wanted to die. I wanted to fade away with the child I had just lost. “Audrey, it is all my fault. Blame me. I stole your life.” Daisy fell to her knees, sobbing hysterically, her body shaking as she begged for my forgiveness. Looking down at her, reality seemed to glitch. Suddenly, the bizarre feeling I had when I first walked in the door made perfect sense. Daisy was wearing my vintage diamond necklace. Her hair was styled in the exact French twist I wore to every gala. From head to toe, she had meticulously cloned herself to look exactly like me. She did not just want my husband. She had been planning to steal my identity for years. Years ago, when her mother died, I took her in out of pity. I gave her a room. One day, I caught her digging through my closet, wearing one of my custom dresses. It hung loosely on her frame. The cut was entirely wrong for her body. But she was staring at herself in the mirror, completely mesmerized. I had gently called out to her. “Daisy, we can buy you clothes that actually fit your style.” She gripped the fabric tighter, whispering something to her reflection. I had not heard it then. But I knew what it was now. “Whatever is yours, is the best.” “Audrey, you have every right to hit me. Hit me!” Daisy stared up at me through a veil of tears, looking like a shattered angel seeking redemption. I let out a soft laugh. Then I laughed harder, doubling over until my ribs ached. She watched me, her facade slipping into genuine annoyance, thinking I had actually lost my mind. I abruptly killed the laugh and stared dead into her eyes. “Daisy, do you not feel sick to your stomach?” She flinched, a flash of irritation crossing her face. Before she could open her mouth, I leaned down and finished my thought. “Your mother was driven to suicide by a homewrecker. And here you are, doing the exact same thing to me. If she were watching from hell, she would probably crawl back up just to strangle you.” All the color vanished from her face. She froze, the perfectly constructed victim routine shattering into a million pieces. She was no longer the one in control. Victor’s face hardened. He stepped protectively in front of her. “Audrey, you are crossing a line. I told you, this was all my fault. You should be mad at…” Smack. I swung my arm with everything I had and slapped him dead across the jaw. I finished his sentence for him. “Oh, I know it is your fault.” The veins in Victor’s neck bulged. He grabbed Daisy, who was lunging forward to claw my eyes out, and threw her behind him. He glared at me, panting heavily. “What do you want? Money? Real estate? Sign the divorce papers, and name your price.” My ears started ringing. I suddenly saw him as he was eight years ago. A broke college kid, kneeling on the worn carpet in my parents’ living room, refusing to get up. “Please let me marry her. You took care of her for the first half of her life. Let me protect her for the rest of it. If I break this vow, let lightning strike me dead.” Now, he could not even stand to look at my face. I was just a stain he needed to bleach out of his life. There was no point in holding back. “Fine. I want every single property in your name, and fifty percent of your liquid assets.” Daisy gasped, grabbing Victor’s arm in sheer panic, terrified he might actually agree. Victor paused. He looked almost surprised that I had caved so easily. He stared at me for a long minute, then nodded. “Done.” Daisy’s teeth audibly ground together. She dragged him into the hallway. A muffled, vicious argument erupted. A few minutes later, Daisy stormed back into the room, her face twisted with fury. “You think you deserve that kind of payout? What the hell are you going to do with all those houses? Have you no shame? You are going to throw a baby out onto the street?!” I shoved past her and walked into the master bedroom. I dragged my old suitcase out of the closet and started tossing my jewelry boxes inside. Daisy’s eyes were bloodshot. She stood in the doorway, hurling every insult she could think of. I completely ignored her. Suddenly, her ranting stopped. A twisted, psychotic smile spread across her face. “Hey Audrey. Do you know how your mother really died?” My hands stopped moving. I slowly turned to face her. A wave of sick satisfaction washed over her face. She had finally found the knife to twist. “The day after you went to prison, your mom walked into the bedroom and caught Victor and me in bed. The shock literally stopped her heart.” A deafening roar filled my head. It felt like someone had driven a spike right through my chest. Daisy was still smiling. “She collapsed right there on the rug. She was gasping for air, rolling around in agony. Honestly, if I had just picked up the phone and called an ambulance, she would have made it.” “But she looked at me with this absolute disgust. Like I was trash. So I just…” My vision went completely red. I launched myself across the room, tackling her to the hardwood floor. I pinned her down and rained fists onto her face. Daisy shrieked, a high-pitched, terrified wail. “Get off me! Help! Help me!” Blood burst from her nose. Her perfect skin began bruising purple and black. I wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed tight. “Die.” “Audrey!” A thunderous voice shattered the chaos. A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and violently hurled me backward. I crashed into the bedside table. Victor stood over me, his chest heaving, looking at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. “Get the hell out of my house! I actually felt bad for you! I wanted to compensate you, but you are just a violent psychopath! You do not deserve a damn thing!” He grabbed me by the back of my collar and physically dragged me down the stairs, throwing me out the front door. It was pouring rain outside. Within seconds, the freezing downpour soaked me to the bone. Through the massive glass window, I saw Daisy standing inside, wrapped in a cashmere throw, smiling as she watched me shivering like a stray dog. Blind rage took over. I screamed into the rain, reaching for my pockets to call the cops, only to realize I did not even have my phone. Rain mixed with the blood and tears on my face. The world tilted, went black, and I hit the pavement. When I opened my eyes, I was staring at a sterile hospital ceiling. Between severe malnutrition and the intense emotional trauma, my body had shut down. An ambulance had brought me in. Whether out of guilt or paranoia, Victor showed up at my room every single day. Even though I refused to look at him or speak a single word, he kept coming. “I wired half a million dollars to your account. I feel terrible about what happened to your mother, which is why I have been paying for your father’s care.” “Audrey, let’s just sign the papers and walk away.” “Walk away?” Victor froze. He slowly met my dead, hollow stare. I let out a dry scoff. My voice was colder than the IV fluid dripping into my veins. “You think half a million dollars erases three years in a concrete box? You framed me to protect your mistress. You murdered my mother. You killed my baby. That is three lives.” “Before you locked me up, I was making six figures. Do the math, Victor. Figure out exactly how much blood money you owe me.” “Pay up, or I will drag you down to hell with me.” The room fell into a suffocating silence. Victor frowned. After a long minute, a dark, calculating look flashed in his eyes. “Fine.” “You will have another million and a half in three days. Once the wire clears, this is over.” He turned and walked out. The moment the door clicked shut, I reached under my pillow and clicked off the digital voice recorder. Then, I dialed the one number I knew by heart. The man who had been waiting for this call. “Three years ago, I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left you. The favor you offered… is it still on the table?” The text back was instantaneous. Always. The day I was discharged, the wire transfer cleared. One point five million. A few hours later, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Daisy. She asked if I wanted to come pick up a box of my mother’s remaining belongings. I knew it was bait. But I called a cab and went anyway. The second I stepped into the living room, Daisy dropped to her knees, her eyes swollen from crying. “Audrey, I am so sorry. Everything is my fault. But Noah did not do anything wrong! He is my entire world. Please, just tell me where he is. Give him back, I am begging you!” She slammed her forehead against the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Every alarm bell in my head went off. This was a setup. I spun around to sprint out the door, only to crash directly into Victor’s chest. He was hyperventilating, his face ashen, looking like a demon crawling out of a nightmare. “Where is my son?! Where the hell did you hide him?! I gave you the money! Why won’t you let this go?!” My chest heaved in panic. I backed away, shaking my head. “I did not take him! Look at the security cameras! Call the police!” Daisy lunged forward and slapped me across the face. Her scream was deafening. “Give him back! If you want someone to die, take me! I will die for him!” She yanked a small kitchen knife from her pocket and pressed the blade against her own throat. Victor’s eyes practically bulged out of his skull. He slapped the knife out of her hand. When he looked back at me, his eyes were dead. I stumbled backward, turning to run for the side door. Victor moved faster. He clamped a hand over my mouth, dragged me into the garage, and threw me into the trunk of his SUV. He bound my wrists with zip ties. I thrashed against the floorboards, screaming through his hand, asking what he was doing. Victor grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. “You always hated the sick bastards who hurt women, right? Let’s see how much you hate them when I dump you in a remote, off-the-grid cabin where no one will ever hear you scream. You are going to rot in the mountains.” My eyes blew wide. I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted copper. A flash of a repressed childhood memory hit me. Being snatched off the street at six years old. The filthy basement. The man with the rotting teeth. The putrid mattress. Starving in the dark. Tears poured down my face. I thrashed violently, begging him to listen. “I swear to God I did not touch your son! Check the cameras! It was not me!” “The cameras are dead! Cut the innocent act!” Victor slammed my head against the carpet, slammed the trunk shut, and peeled out of the garage. I lay curled in the pitch-black trunk, suffocating in pure terror. But as the SUV took a sharp corner onto the mountain road, a massive black tactical truck surged out of a side street. It swerved directly into Victor’s lane, blocking the road entirely. A deafening crash shook the SUV as Victor slammed on the brakes, rear-ending the barricade. Before Victor could even process the airbag deploying, his driver-side door was ripped open. A pair of hands hauled him out of the vehicle and slammed him face-first onto the wet asphalt like a rabid dog.

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The autumn hiking trip was supposed to be an adventure. But when the temperature plummeted below freezing, and my lips started turning blue, I reached into my pack to find my emergency thermal blanket had been swapped for a flimsy plastic bag. Before I could even ask who was responsible, my fiancé, Dermot, grabbed my arm. “Babe, don’t be mad,” he said, his voice tight. “I gave your blanket to Lila. Just… make do with the plastic bag for now.” I clutched the crinkling plastic, my teeth chattering so hard they ached. “Make do? So you’re just going to let me freeze to death out here?” His brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why would you say that? Lila’s not an experienced hiker, she wasn’t prepared. That doesn’t mean you can wish her ill.” He went on, his voice dripping with condescension. “We’re out here to connect with nature, to breathe fresh air, not to show off your professional gear. Lila was right, you know. You need to drop this spoiled princess act, expecting everyone to coddle you. After we’re married, I won’t have the time to deal with your drama.” I stopped listening. With the last of my strength, I pulled out my satellite phone and dialed. “Dad,” I whispered, my voice cracking, “come get me. And pull all our support from Dermot’s family.” 1 The moment the words left my lips, the phone died, its battery succumbing to the cold. Dermot’s face went rigid, then twisted into a cold sneer. “What, pulling that card again to make me grovel? Seriously, Seraphina, can’t you come up with a new trick?” He lunged for the phone, but I clutched it to my chest. The pain in my swollen, red hands was a searing agony, a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin. I felt myself on the verge of blacking out. The sub-zero temperature was already slowing my heart, and any sudden movement felt like torture. In a last-ditch effort, I draped the plastic bag over my shoulders. It was useless. My consciousness began to fray at the edges, my hands now completely numb. Lila approached, my thermal blanket draped over her arm. She gazed at me, her expression a mask of delicate fragility. “Sera, please don’t blame Dermot. I’m just so fragile, the slightest chill gives me a cold.” Then, right in front of me, she unfolded my emergency blanket and slowly, deliberately, wrapped it around herself. She even used a corner of the high-tech fabric to wipe some mud from her fingers. Every movement was slow, exaggerated, as if to make sure I didn’t miss a single detail. My vision tunneled. That blanket had cost me a fortune, imported from Switzerland. It was a piece of advanced tech designed specifically for extreme cold. Wrapped in it, you could maintain a normal body temperature even on a snow-capped peak. And she was using my lifeline like a dishrag. Dermot rushed to her side, his voice dripping with concern. “Lila, you’re just too kind. Don’t waste your sympathy on a cold-hearted bitch like her.” He turned his gaze on me, his eyes filled with a lofty, judgmental glare. “Knock it off, Seraphina. Stop the theatrics.” “Lila’s a pre-med student,” he continued, puffing out his chest. “She said the temperature isn’t even that low. It’s all in your head. Drink some hot water, jump around a bit. You’ll be fine.” “That fancy blanket of yours is a joke, no better than something you’d buy at a flea market. A total scam. Lila’s not as strong as you; she needs it more.” The plastic bag, already torn, offered no protection. The cold was sinking deeper into my bones. I fumbled for my thermos, desperate for a sip of hot water, only to find it was full of ice-cold slush. Then I watched as Dermot pulled a different thermos from his own pack, opened it, and handed it to Lila. Steam ghosted from the rim. “I swapped the water in your thermoses,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “You’re fine. Stop being so delicate. My family can’t afford a wife as high-maintenance as you.” Through the rising steam, I saw Lila’s lips curve into a triumphant smirk. Dermot’s casual cruelty shattered the last of my hope. My blanket, my hot water… he had given everything to her. And I was being left to slowly freeze, my mind going numb. “Dermot,” I forced the words out, “I’m… I’m going to die.” “Die? Can you stop being so dramatic? Lila’s the one who’s sick, and you don’t hear her complaining, do you?” Lila leaned against his chest, her voice a pathetic whisper. “Sera, I know you don’t like me, but I really don’t feel well. Dermot said you’re an experienced hiker and you’d be okay.” She took a long, noisy gulp of the hot water, then licked her lips with theatrical satisfaction. Her eyes met mine, glittering with open provocation. A tremor of pure rage shot through my frozen body. “Give it back!” I lunged, trying to grab the blanket. Dermot shoved me hard. “Are you insane, Seraphina? Lila’s sick! And you’re trying to rip her blanket away?” I hit the frozen ground, the impact jarring my spine. Lila clutched the blanket tighter, her eyes welling with tears as she looked up at Dermot. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Dermot, honey, why does your fiancée hate me so much? Am I just a burden? Maybe I should just die! Then I wouldn’t ruin her mood anymore!” She made a show of letting the blanket slip, as if to run off into the wilderness, but Dermot caught her, pulling her into a tight embrace. He stroked her back soothingly. “It’s not your fault. She’s just a spoiled brat who thinks the world revolves around her.” Their words were a physical blow, each one sharper than the icy wind. The man who had knelt before me, promising to cherish and protect me for the rest of our lives, was now holding another woman, watching me shiver in a torn plastic bag. With a final surge of adrenaline, I grabbed my backpack and swung it with all my might, smashing it into Dermot’s face. “We’re over!” 2 The blow caught Dermot completely off guard. He staggered back, blood pouring from his nose. “You’re crazy!” he roared, tilting his head back while cursing a blue streak. Seeing him so disheveled sent a vicious thrill through me. “Dermot, honey, are you okay? Oh my god, somebody help! Seraphina’s trying to kill him!” Lila’s crocodile tears started flowing, her wails echoing through the mountains like a banshee, drawing the attention of our friends. When they saw Dermot’s bloody face, the accusations started immediately. Dermot’s buddy, Jake, pointed a finger at me. “You’ve gone too far, Sera! Lila was nice enough to give you her plastic bag, and this is how you repay her?” I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my jaw was locked, my body conserving every last bit of energy. All I could do was huddle inside the pathetic plastic wrap. Every movement was stealing precious seconds from my life. Lila peeked out from behind Dermot, her tear-streaked face a mask of pitiful innocence that made my stomach turn. “Don’t blame her,” she sobbed. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken her blanket just because I felt sick. But Dermot said… he said I was like a little sister to him, and that I’d be like a sister to Sera, too. He said she wouldn’t mind.” Her words seemed to soothe Dermot’s fury. He pulled her closer. “You don’t need to apologize. She’s the one making a scene.” “A sister?” The words scraped my throat. “I’ve never even met you before today.” Dermot’s expression hardened. “Don’t push it, Seraphina. Lila and I grew up together. She’s always been like a sister to me. She’s frail, always has been. Are you, a pampered princess, really going to fight her over a stupid blanket?” Five years we’d been together, and not once had he mentioned this childhood “sister.” And the way he’d given her my life-saving blanket… this wasn’t sisterly affection. It was something else entirely. My breathing grew shallow, the figures in front of me blurring into ghostly doubles. My limbs refused to obey me. I braced myself against a tree, my hand trembling as I tried to point, to explain. But the only sound that came out was the chattering of my teeth. Jake mocked me, mimicking my shivering. “Hah, that’s hilarious. The accusations didn’t work, so now you’re playing the victim? Give it a rest, princess. Your mommy and daddy aren’t here to coddle you.” The group erupted in laughter. Dermot just looked at me with pure disgust, convinced I was faking it all for attention. “That’s enough!” he snapped. “Stop your pathetic games. And don’t you dare talk about breaking up again. You won’t find anyone else as patient as me.” He dragged me over to a rickety-looking shack near the supply point. “You can stay in here and think about what you’ve done. Stop embarrassing me.” “Dermot, I can’t…” I managed to whisper, grabbing his sleeve. My fingers were so swollen the skin was almost translucent. He shook my hand off with a shudder of revulsion. “I’m sick of this act. You think I’m your mother? That I’ll come running every time you play the victim? If you’re going to be my wife, you need to cut the bullshit.” Slam! The wooden door shut, the force of it rattling the broken window panes. I could hear their laughter outside, and Dermot’s voice, now gentle, as he comforted Lila. “Don’t mind her. She’s just a spoiled brat who thinks the whole world owes her something.” “But Dermot,” Lila’s voice dripped with fake concern, “what if she hates me?” “Don’t worry about it. She’s all bark and no bite. Besides, you’re my sister. If she wants to marry me, she’ll have to learn to treat you right.” My mind grew foggy. The deadly cold made every movement an ordeal. The frostbite on my feet was so severe I couldn’t even crawl. A draft blew through the broken windows, a crosswind of icy air that seemed to freeze my brain solid. I tried to drag myself toward the door, to cry for help, but my body wouldn’t respond. A smear of blood on the floor from a cut I hadn’t even felt sent a wave of utter despair through me. My breaths came in ragged, shallow gasps. The fear of death was a living thing, coiling in my gut. I screamed, tearing at my vocal cords, but no one outside seemed to notice or care. My vision blurred. Just as I was about to surrender to the darkness, the shack door creaked open. It was Lila. A triumphant smile played on her lips as she crouched in front of me, her eyes gleaming with a venomous light. “You know, Seraphina,” she purred, “Dermot’s been wanting to dump you for ages.” My eyes widened. I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a choked, rattling sound. Lila continued, her voice a cruel whisper. “He said you’re nothing but dead weight, slowing everyone down. Said it would be better if you just died and got it over with.” She placed my thermal blanket on the floor and sat on it, making herself comfortable. “This thing really is warm,” she sighed. “Too bad you’ll never get to use it again.” 3 I tried to stop her, but my body was a prison. Lila then took out my thermos—the one with the hot water—and unscrewed the cap. With a malicious grin, she poured the steaming liquid all over the blanket, watching with satisfaction as the dark, wet stain spread across the metallic fabric. The sight broke something inside me. With a guttural cry, I launched myself at her, shoving her aside as I scrambled out of the shack. “You’re insane! That was my only chance to survive!” I shrieked, my voice a raw, broken thing. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” Dermot and his friends, who had been setting up a campfire nearby, heard the commotion and he strode over, a frown etched on his face. In an instant, Lila’s expression crumpled. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she threw herself into Dermot’s arms. “Dermot, honey!” she wailed. “I just felt so bad for her, I wanted to give her some hot water! But she knocked it out of my hands, all over my blanket! She told me… she told me to go die!” What? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dermot looked from her tear-streaked face to the sopping wet blanket on the ground. His own face turned black with rage. “Seraphina! You are a venomous, spiteful bitch! It’s below freezing out here! That was the only thing keeping Lila warm! Do you hate her so much that you’d actually try to kill her?” “It was her,” I croaked, pointing a trembling finger at Lila. “She…” But Dermot wasn’t listening. The look in his eyes was one of pure murder. Jake fanned the flames. “I knew it! She can’t stand that we all like Lila more than her. She’s just jealous!” “Yeah! She’s a spoiled brat who has to be the center of attention!” “I thought she was just high-maintenance, but this is a whole other level. She’s a psychopath!” Their accusations rained down on me, each word making Dermot’s expression darker. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Tears of pure, helpless rage streamed down my frozen cheeks. Why? Why wouldn’t a single one of them believe me? Dermot held Lila, his voice now a tender murmur. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. She’s just a spoiled child.” Lila sobbed into his chest. “Dermot, honey, maybe I shouldn’t be here. Why does she hate me so much?” “It’s not your fault. She’s the twisted one. She can’t stand to see you happy. She’s the one who deserves to die.” Dermot’s words hit me with the force of a physical blow, shattering the last fragment of my sanity. The man I had loved for five years was telling me I deserved to die. I lay on the frozen ground, my face next to the cold, damp blanket that was supposed to be my salvation. Now it was useless. Out of Dermot’s line of sight, Lila shot me a look of pure triumph, her lips curled into the smirk of a victor. “Seraphina! Get on your knees and apologize to Lila. Right now.” Dermot’s shadow fell over me, his shoe inches from my face. “Do it, or we’re through.” I lifted my head, my gaze meeting his. The man standing over me was a stranger, a monster. When had he become so grotesque? “Never,” I whispered, the word costing me the last of my energy. The next second, Jake hauled me up by my arm, kicked the back of my knees, and tried to force my head to the ground. “You’ve been nothing but trouble this whole trip! We’re sick of you! Now’s your chance to make it right, so say you’re sorry and stop wasting our time!” A wave of agony washed over me, and I collapsed. My breathing was a faint whisper now, my body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. My consciousness was fading, each heartbeat a slow, painful thud marking the ebbing of my life. “Seraphina! Seraphina, what’s wrong?” Lila was suddenly beside me, her arms around me, her voice filled with fake panic. But in my blurry vision, all I could see was the venom in her eyes. She crouched beside me, grabbing the wet blanket. “Let me help you warm up!” she cried, wrapping the ice-cold, sopping fabric around my body. I wanted to fight, to scream, but I had no strength left. The wet blanket leached away what little warmth I had, and my face grew even paler. “It’s not working!” she shrieked, then shoved me flat on my back. “I’ll have to do CPR!” She placed her hands on my chest and pressed down with all her weight. An excruciating pain shot through my ribs. She wasn’t saving me; she was trying to finish the job. I bit down on my tongue, hard. The sharp, metallic taste of blood cleared my head for a fraction of a second. I reached up and clawed at her wrist, my nails digging into her skin. “Aah!” she screamed, kicking me away. “She’s attacking me! She’s still trying to kill me!” Dermot rushed over and slammed his boot down on my hand. I felt the crunch of bone. “Lila was trying to save you, and you attack her? You psycho!” he roared, his face contorted with rage. “I’ve seen enough, Seraphina! You’re an unhinged, violent monster! Maybe you don’t even deserve to have hands!” My heart was slowing to a crawl. The world was going dark. My consciousness was dissolving. The last thing I heard was Lila’s sobbing voice. “Dermot, honey, why does she want to hurt me? Why…” I closed my eyes, ready for death. And then, a deafening roar tore through the sky. A powerful downdraft blasted the mountaintop, sending branches and debris flying. Everyone shielded their faces, squinting up at the sky in confusion. Through a slit in my eyelids, I saw it: a massive helicopter, hovering directly above us.

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I was out grabbing dinner with my boyfriend when the customer at the booth next to ours started screaming at a waitress. It was painfully obvious they were just picking a fake fight to shake the restaurant down for cash. I couldn’t just sit there and watch. I stood up and actually defended the girl, calling out the obnoxious customer. But the waitress? She just kept her head ducked down, lips zipped tight, acting like she was paralyzed by fear. Sitting across from me, my boyfriend finally had enough of the noise and casually threw in a sentence to back me up. That was the exact millisecond she violently snapped her head up. Her eyes were perfectly rimmed with red. Staring right past me, she locked onto my boyfriend and choked out a teary, “Thank you so much!” Then, dropping her voice into this sickeningly sweet whisper, she asked him, “Could I buy you dinner tomorrow to pay you back?” I didn’t even dignify that with a response. I stayed completely silent until the sweating restaurant manager came jogging over to our table. The manager explained that their security camera was conveniently busted and begged me to give a witness statement to save the girl from paying the damages. I just shook my head, flashing a polite, apologetic smile. “Oh, I am so sorry,” I said lightly. “I was just staring down at my food the whole time. I didn’t notice a single thing.” 1 The weekend started with a simple dinner date with my boyfriend. The waitress serving the table next to ours fumbled her tray. A sticky slice of watermelon slipped and landed squarely on a little boy’s lap. The kid’s mother instantly blew up. “Are you completely brain-dead?!” Realizing her mistake, the waitress froze. She stood there, wringing her hands and muttering endless apologies. I squinted at her. She looked familiar. A second later, it clicked. She was a freshman who had just joined our campus event committee. Naturally, I paid a little more attention to the drama unfolding. The parents weren’t having any of her apologies. The mother opened her mouth and demanded eight hundred dollars for the ruined designer clothes. The freshman’s face drained of color. She stammered, desperately trying to explain that the accident only happened because the kid had been jumping up and down on the booth cushions. That was the wrong move. Instead of calming the parents down, it poured gasoline on the fire. “So you’re blaming my son now?” the father growled. “Is this the kind of trashy service this place offers? You will apologize to my boy right now and pay up!” The freshman’s eyes filled with hot, panicked tears. Her gaze darted around the room and landed on me. It was like she had spotted a life raft. “Miss, you saw the whole thing, right? Could you please tell them what happened?” She stared at me with pure, begging desperation. Since she was a junior from my university and we worked in the same committee, I couldn’t just leave her hanging. I gave a small nod. “I didn’t catch the entire thing. But when she was bringing the food over, I definitely heard her warn your son that jumping around was dangerous.” The moment the words left my mouth, the angry parents locked their sights on me. “Why the hell are you defending this little bitch? Are you a bitch too?!” the mother shrieked. “I know exactly how my kid behaves! You probably saved up for a month just to afford a meal here, you broke loser. Stop trying to play the hero!” A hot spike of anger flared in my chest. I opened my mouth to tell her that if she had a problem, we could just roll the security tapes. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something. The moment the parents turned their wrath on me, the freshman let out a visible sigh of relief. She shrank back into the corner, completely silent. It was as if my stepping in to take the bullet for her had absolutely nothing to do with her. My stomach dropped. Any desire I had to help this girl vanished into thin air. Just then, my boyfriend returned from the cash register. 2 Sensing the thick tension in the air, he lowered his voice and asked me what was going on. When I gave him the rundown, his jaw clenched. “My girlfriend was just answering a question politely. Keep your personal attacks to yourself,” he told the parents, his voice deadpan but carrying a sharp edge. “If you insult my girl one more time, I’m calling the cops.” “She already agreed to pay for the dry cleaning and she apologized. There’s no need to cross the line.” Maybe it was just my imagination. But the moment the waitress noticed my boyfriend picking up his tailored jacket from the booth, revealing the heavy luxury watch on his wrist, her whole demeanor shifted. My eyes turned icy. I immediately grabbed his arm. If people didn’t appreciate my help, I wasn’t about to keep throwing my kindness at a brick wall. Tristan picked up my phone from the table and handed it to me. “Bill’s paid. Let’s go.” I nodded and turned toward the door. But a soft, trembling voice called out from behind us. “Tristan. Thank you so much for standing up for me.” The same freshman who had been hiding in the corner, pretending she didn’t exist while I was getting screamed at, suddenly found her courage. She stood there, twisting the hem of her apron. Her eyes were perfectly rimmed with red. She looked at Tristan with pure, unfiltered adoration. I almost laughed out loud. If I hadn’t just witnessed her little disappearing act, I might have actually bought the innocent act. What a joke. I took the heat for her, and she didn’t even utter a single syllable of thanks. My boyfriend merely defended me, throwing a casual warning at the parents in the process, and suddenly he was her knight in shining armor. Tristan turned his head. His expression was polite but completely distant. “You go to Weston Uni too?” The girl nodded eagerly. She didn’t spare a single glance in my direction. “Could I buy you a meal tomorrow? Just to say thanks. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what they would have done to me today!” Tristan flatly rejected her. “No need.” “I wasn’t defending you anyway.” I felt a surge of annoyance at her audacity, but I didn’t bother calling her out. I just chalked it up to a bad judge of character on my part. I had helped the wrong person. 3 But the universe wasn’t done with us. Just as we pushed open the heavy glass doors to the street, we heard her again. “Wait! Tristan!” The girl rushed out onto the sidewalk. She was clutching a small, pristine bakery box. Without waiting for permission, she practically shoved the dessert into Tristan’s hands. Sensing her movement, Tristan frowned deeply and stepped to the side, dodging her touch before she could make contact. His tone carried a heavy trace of irritation. “I said no need.” “I didn’t speak up for you. The person you should be thanking is my girlfriend.” The girl froze. She slowly turned to look at me, her eyes flashing with a strange, unreadable emotion. Finally, she shoved the box toward my chest. “Thanks.” “Since Tristan doesn’t want it, you can have it.” Her gratitude was as fake as a three-dollar bill. I looked at her, a sarcastic smirk playing on my lips. Somewhere between the restaurant and the sidewalk, her apron had magically vanished. Now she was just standing there in her fitted uniform skirt, highlighting her slim figure. Her makeup was flawless. Thinking back to the amount Tristan had just dropped on our dinner, the pieces clicked into place. But the girl wasn’t giving up. She lunged forward and grabbed Tristan’s sleeve. “Hey, the dorm curfews are probably active by now! If you’re heading back to campus, you can walk with me!” “I’m super tight with the security guard. I always finish my shifts around this time, so he lets me sneak in. Just stick close to me!” Again, zero mention of me. Tristan took a firm step back, ripping his arm out of her grasp. “Not necessary. We have a place off-campus. We aren’t going back to the dorms.” Hearing this, her eyes practically sparkled. “Then you should at least add my number! I already gave your girlfriend a gift to say thanks, but I haven’t properly thanked you yet!” Before she could push her phone into his face, the restaurant manager came jogging out the door. “Miss, I am so sorry to interrupt. We were just reviewing the incident in the back, and it turns out the camera in that corner is busted.” “You were the only table nearby. Would you mind staying to give a witness statement?” I let out a short, airy laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Manager. I was too busy looking down at my food. I didn’t see a single thing.” The freshman, who had clearly assumed she was off the hook for the damages, panicked. “What do you mean?! Just a minute ago you said…” “I didn’t say anything. Like I said, I was just eating my dinner.” Seeing the icy smile on my face, the seasoned manager instantly read the room. 4 I wrote the whole thing off as a bizarre little glitch in my day and pushed it out of my mind. I honestly thought I would never have to deal with her again. I was dead wrong. Once we got back to the daily grind at university, things got insanely busy. A whole week blew by before I finally had the time to meet up with Tristan again. Tristan and I were in the same graduating class. We bumped into each other back in our freshman year when we accidentally swapped garment bags backstage at a gala. Honestly, getting together with Tristan was something I never saw coming. Our backgrounds were night and day. We ran in completely different circles. Add to that the fact that we were in entirely different majors and departments. If it hadn’t been for that backstage mix-up, we probably would have gone our whole college lives without crossing paths. My family ran a massive international shipping corporation. We were doing very, very well. Tristan was a local. His parents owned a tiny, rundown hair salon right outside the campus gates. Because their styling skills were stuck in the past, business was brutal. A few months ago, they were on the verge of bankruptcy. Feeling bad for him, I went in and loaded up a VIP membership card with fifteen thousand dollars. That massive injection of cash eased their financial choking hazard, and the salon was saved. I just hated seeing Tristan stressed out over money. Fifteen grand was pocket change to me anyway. I figured I’d just use it up over time for blowouts and treatments. But when I walked into the salon that day, I saw a familiar silhouette sweeping the floor. It was the freshman from the restaurant. She glanced up, made eye contact with me, and then immediately looked away like I was a total stranger. Not a single word of greeting. I wasn’t about to beg for her attention. When Tristan came out from the back room, I casually asked him what was going on. His expression didn’t change a bit when I brought her up. “She probably got fired over what happened the other night.” “My parents put up a hiring sign recently, and she walked in for an interview.” “You know how it is. My parents run the show here. By the time I found out, she was already on the payroll.” I nodded slowly. It was true. Tristan rarely meddled in his parents’ business. He only ever hung around the shop when he knew I was coming over. Normally, he was swamped with his own stuff. We grabbed a quick lunch, and I went back to my apartment. I didn’t stress over the fact that this girl was working at his parents’ place. After all, a man who can be stolen away was never yours to begin with. Plus, Tristan’s new startup studio was entirely funded by my money. 5 I usually drove home to see my parents on the weekends. After my Friday afternoon lecture, I stopped by the salon, planning to get a quick hair wash and blowout before hitting the highway. But right after I finished, I was told my VIP card was empty. A fifteen-thousand-dollar pre-paid card. I had barely been here a handful of times, and now it had a zero balance. I furrowed my brows and stared at the girl behind the cash register. Lily. I had learned her name from the campus committee roster a few days ago. Hearing my confusion, she gave me a look dripping with pure contempt, though she plastered a sickly sweet customer-service smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Miss. Your card has zero balance. How would you like to pay today?” When she saw me reaching for my phone to call Tristan, she let out a loud, mocking scoff and actually reached over the counter to snatch my phone away. “Have you no shame? How thick does your skin have to be to demand Tristan’s parents add fifteen thousand dollars to a fake account when you didn’t spend a single dime of your own money?” I let out a dark laugh. So the rat was finally showing her teeth. She actually believed my VIP balance was just a favor I begged out of Tristan, assuming I hadn’t paid a cent. So she just went into the system and wiped it out. Instead of blowing up, I just smiled. “Are you really that sure I didn’t drop cold, hard cash on this account?” She looked at me like I was delusional. “I am an employee of this establishment now. It is my absolute duty to protect the shop from leeches!” “I’m not going to tolerate people like you who just hold their hands out for freebies! Every dollar Tristan has, he earned with his own blood and sweat! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for him to run his studio all by himself?!” “If you refuse to pay your bill right now, I have no problem blasting your face all over the campus forums!” She lifted her chin, staring down her nose at me from behind the register, looking like some righteous martyr. Looking at her misplaced arrogance, I didn’t have the energy to argue with stupid. I glanced around. Tristan’s parents weren’t in the shop. I calmly picked up the salon’s landline and dialed Tristan’s number. I don’t know what Tristan told her on that call. I only had one demand. Lily needed to apologize to me. Whatever he said must have hit hard, because a few minutes later, Lily ran out from the back room with tears streaming down her face. Seeing me still standing by the styling chairs, she shot me a look of pure venom before sprinting out the front door. Tristan walked out right behind her. Seeing me, he rubbed his temples, looking utterly exhausted. “Babe, I’m sorry. I know that was messed up.” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize to me. You didn’t do it.” “Just make the person who did it give me an apology.” I wasn’t about to drop my demand just because the girl squeezed out a few crocodile tears. Tristan shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, just let it go. Do it for me.” “Lily just didn’t understand the situation. At the end of the day, she was just trying to look out for my family’s business.” The warmth vanished from my face. “Is asking for a simple apology crossing a line? You’re my boyfriend. Why are you apologizing on behalf of another woman?” I turned on my heel and walked out, not looking back. Later that night, I finally got the apology. A stiff, three-word text message. I am sorry. I didn’t care. But from that day on, I noticed a subtle, chilling distance whenever Tristan and I texted. 6 I brushed it off. I stuck to my weekend plans and drove home. But when I woke up in my childhood bedroom, I noticed a new addition to the group chat I shared with Tristan and my best friends. Tristan had added someone. I immediately opened a private chat with him. What’s going on? It took him hours to reply. When he finally did, it was a voice note. The background was noisy, and I could faintly hear a girl’s voice asking him a question. “It’s the new girl from the salon.” “My parents want to run a promotion to get the old VIPs to come back and top up their cards.” “They figure since she goes to our college, she knows how all this social media stuff works. They made me add her.” “Since that group chat has a bunch of our best paying customers, I just added her in.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. Something felt incredibly off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. That group chat was almost entirely made up of my high school friends. They went to different colleges in the city, not Weston Uni. Because they loved me, whenever they visited my campus, they went to Tristan’s parents’ salon and bought VIP cards. Some dropped a thousand, others dropped three thousand. I sent back a generic ‘goodnight’ sticker and went to sleep. The long highway drive had drained me. But the next morning, when I checked my phone, I almost threw it at the wall. In the dead of night, Lily had changed our group chat name. It went from Ride or Die Crew to Lily’s Exclusive Fan Club. She had also changed her own nickname in the chat to Tristan’s Right-Hand Girl, Lily! “Hi everyone! Tristan’s mom told me that you are all our VIPs!” “I’m here to shower you guys with some amazing exclusive perks!” She followed up with a wall of text detailing the salon’s new promotional discounts. Then she systematically tagged every single person in the chat, begging them to come down and load up their cards. The only person she didn’t tag was me. My best friend Stella had blown up my phone at 2 AM with a dozen messages. What the hell, girl?! Who is this freak your man just added? Who wants to be in her fan club? The absolute nerve! I’m gonna vomit. I’m leaving this chat. Wake up! Are you dead?! Say something! Get out of bed and kick this pick-me bitch out of the group! The chat was filled with my closest friends, and Lily’s unhinged late-night stunt had left everyone completely speechless. I dialed Tristan’s number and let it ring until he picked up. He had clearly just woken up and hadn’t checked his phone yet. When I described the bloodbath in the group chat, he was at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make her leave the group.” I don’t know what Tristan said to her. But by the time I finished brushing my teeth, the group name was back to normal. And the girl was gone. 7 After that nightmare, I sat down with Tristan and laid out exactly where my boundaries were. Knowing I was furious, and knowing he had messed up, he promised to make it up to me on Monday. His apology seemed genuine, so I let the issue rest. But when I walked into his parents’ salon on Monday, the atmosphere was completely toxic. Tristan’s mother was lying back, resting her head on Lily’s lap while Lily gently plucked out her gray hairs. Lily’s hands moved delicately while she kept up a constant stream of cheerful chatter. She looked like the picture-perfect daughter-in-law. Tristan’s mom was clearly eating it up. It was obvious, considering every other stylist in the shop was sweating and working, while Lily got to sit and play favorite. But the second Lily saw me walk through the door, her eyes went red again. She instantly dropped her gaze and stopped laughing with the mother. I seriously wondered if the girl had a medical condition. Her eyes watered on command. The other stylists noticed the awkward shift in the air and slowly stopped talking. Tristan’s mother finally noticed me standing there. “Oh, Serena. Here for a wash?” I nodded. “Yeah, I’m grabbing a movie with Tristan later.” The mention of my date with Tristan made Lily tense up. She gently tugged on the mother’s sleeve. The older woman patted Lily’s hand, giving her a reassuring look. Then she walked over and took my arm. “Alright, go lie down over there.” I shot Tristan a quick text saying I had arrived, then leaned back into the washing basin, waiting for a stylist. But I quickly realized something was wrong. Lily was the one standing over me. Before I could say a word, she grabbed the showerhead. Without checking the temperature, she turned it on full blast right over my face. Ice-cold water sprayed everywhere. Then, with a ‘clumsy’ flick of her wrist, she aimed the nozzle directly at my face. Remembering the full face of makeup I had just spent an hour doing, I threw my hands up to block the water. But she was faster. She pinned my shoulder down with her free hand and kept blasting my face with the freezing spray. I ripped myself out of the chair. Seeing the smug, victorious gleam in her eye, I swung my arm and slapped her across the face. The sharp crack of skin against skin echoed through the dead-silent salon. Lily snapped out of her shock. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she lunged at me, claws out. I sidestepped smoothly, letting her stumble past me. 8 I glanced at Tristan’s mother, who was standing a few feet away, completely unfazed. It all made sense now. She had picked Lily out as her new favorite for Tristan. And they wanted to put me in my place. She had always believed the fifteen grand in the VIP system was Tristan’s hard-earned cash. She thought Tristan was just using my name to hide the money, afraid his proud parents wouldn’t accept a direct handout. She had always hated me, convinced I was a gold digger bleeding her precious son dry. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too far?” I asked, my voice deadly calm. My hair was soaking wet. Mascara was running down my cheeks. I looked like a wreck. But I didn’t feel an ounce of fear. Tristan’s mother finally snapped into action. She rushed over to Lily, checking her face frantically. Seeing the red handprint blooming on Lily’s cheek, she looked like her heart was breaking. When she turned back to me, her face was twisted in pure hatred. “Get the hell out of my shop! You are not welcome here!” “Break up with my son right now! I’ve been sick of looking at your face for months! All you do is scam him out of his money!” “Lily was just protecting our business! That VIP card was funded by my son’s paycheck!” “How dare you force this sweet girl to apologize to you!” I didn’t say a word. I just locked eyes with Tristan, who had just rushed through the front door. Meeting my cold stare, he immediately looked away. When his eyes landed on Lily’s bruised cheek, his expression darkened. “Serena, did you hit her?” His guilt had morphed into accusation. I almost laughed. He was my boyfriend. Yet the first thing he noticed wasn’t his girlfriend standing there, dripping wet and shivering. It was the red mark on his new employee’s face. Whose boyfriend was he anyway? When I saw him instinctively reach out to touch Lily’s face, a cold realization washed over me. “You two have been getting pretty cozy over this past week, haven’t you?” My voice was dripping with venom. Hearing this, Tristan exploded. He kicked a styling chair hard. “Are you done making a scene?! Stop acting like a paranoid psycho!” “Apologize to her!” Every single person in the salon froze. The low hum of the blow dryers died out. All eyes were on us, yet not a single person stepped up to defend me. Whatever poison Lily had been dripping in their ears, they all looked at me like I finally got what I deserved. The man who used to be my loving boyfriend was now publicly humiliating me. Demanding I apologize to a snake without even asking what happened.

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1 The heavy sound of the shower echoed through the apartment as I pushed the front door open. Nate was in the bathroom. His laptop sat open on the coffee table, the screen still glowing brightly in the dim living room. An open messaging app immediately caught my eye. The text at the top read: Luna the Mystic. The newest message hit me like a physical blow. [Your reading topic for today: Is there still a chance for you and the one who got away?] My heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, my fingers brushed the trackpad, scrolling up to read the rest of the conversation. The psychic had asked Nate to describe the person he wanted a reading on. “She is the woman I have loved and desperately wanted for seven years. Now, right before I get married, she moved back to the States.” Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. Seven years. Nate and I had been together for exactly seven years. And we were supposed to get married next month. The shower stopped. I was so numb I did not even notice the sudden silence. Nate walked out a moment later, rubbing a towel through his damp hair. Drops of water trailed down his bare chest. “Serena? When did you get back?” He smiled warmly, walking toward me. “Why are you just standing there zoning out?” “Just walked in. Saw your laptop was still on.” “Since when did you start believing in this stuff?” I pointed a trembling finger at the screen, my throat incredibly tight. Nate glanced at the laptop. Something flickered in his eyes, barely there, before he casually snapped the laptop shut. “Oh, that.” He let out a soft chuckle and pulled me into his arms. “I was grabbing drinks with some colleagues today. I mentioned someone on my feed started doing tarot readings. One of the guys got super into it and begged me to ask a question for him.” “But you are the biggest skeptic I know.” I stared directly into his eyes, searching for a crack in his perfect facade. Nate smiled, the familiar crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “Of course I do not believe in it,” he said, gently pinching my cheek. “I was just doing a favor for a buddy. Look, I even told the psychic it was not for me.” He opened the laptop again and pointed to a line of text. [Asking for a friend. This isn’t about me.] A fraction of the tension left my shoulders, but a dull, nagging unease remained coiled in my stomach. “So who is your colleague hung up on?” I asked, forcing a casual tone. Nate paused for a split second before laughing. “His high school crush. The guy is getting married soon, guess he is just getting cold feet and overly sentimental.” His expression was absolutely flawless. “What is going on? Why are you so on edge today?” Nate looked at me with deep concern. “Work stressing you out?” I nodded slowly. “We hit a roadblock on a huge project. I was at the office until just now.” His brows instantly pulled together in a look of pure heartache. “I told you to stop working yourself to the bone. Are you hungry? Let me make you some pasta.” Looking at his earnest, loving gaze, I silently cursed myself for being paranoid. This was Nate. This was the man who remembered my exact coffee order, who warmed up a glass of milk for me every single night, who let me use his phone whenever I wanted. How could I doubt him over a few random text messages? 2 Later that night, Nate fell asleep quickly. His breathing was deep and even, as if everything was perfectly normal. I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling. Driven by some dark intuition, I picked up my phone and searched for “Luna the Mystic” on Instagram. A profile with hundreds of thousands of followers popped up. The bio read: “Expert Tarot Reader. Ten years of experience. Unlocking your soul and interpreting your destiny.” Ten years. Not exactly someone who “just started doing tarot” like Nate had claimed. My heart did a painful stutter step. The sickening feeling of being played crept slowly up my spine. I clicked on the psychic’s newest post. “If you need a private, detailed reading to clear your confusion, drop a heart in the comments and I will DM you!” There were already hundreds of comments. I scrolled past endless strangers until a horribly familiar profile picture locked my vision. It was Nate. He always bragged about hating social media. Did he make an account just for this? My fingers trembled as I tapped his profile. It was a completely fresh account. He only followed ten people. Nine of them were boring financial news outlets. The tenth was a silhouette of a girl standing under the golden arches of the Eiffel Tower. Username: Abby Travels. I clicked. Her name was Abby. Her pinned posts were a timeline of her life studying, traveling, and working in Europe. And under every single major milestone, there was a comment from that familiar profile picture. Five years ago, she posted from a massive New Year party in London: “Counting down with strangers. So romantic yet so lonely.” Nate commented: “Next time, I will be there with you.” Three years ago, she posted her Master degree from a top tier university: “Stressed to the max, but I finally did it!” Nate commented: “I told you. You have always been a star.” A year ago, she posted a picture of an IV drip in her hand from a hospital bed: “Feeling so weak today.” Nate commented: “Please take care of yourself. Do not make me worry about you.” Seven years ago, she posted a picture at the airport departure gate: “A new beginning. Let’s both work hard!” Nate commented: “I will wait for you.” For seven entire years, he had been waiting for someone else. I kept scrolling. A week ago: “First day at the new job! Huge thanks to a certain someone for the referral!” The photo was a view from an office window. A view I knew intimately well. It was the exact view from the high rise building where Nate worked. The newest post was from three days ago. “If the cards say yes, we will finally be together.” The location tagged was the most famous romantic restaurant in the city. My chest caved in. A tsunami of pure agony and deep humiliation swallowed me whole. I put my phone down and lay frozen in the dark, letting the tears slide silently into my pillow. Seven years. That youthful obsession, that unforgettable girl in his heart, had never faded. So what was I? Just a warm body to kill time with? A convenient distraction until his real love came back? 3 The next afternoon, I took a half day off work and went straight to the financial district. The glass skyscrapers towered above me. I used to stand on this exact corner waiting for Nate to get off work, listening to him complain about his corporate drama. Back then, happiness felt so solid I could hold it in my hands. Right now, even the air smelled like a lie. I did not ask to meet Nate. I bypassed him entirely and messaged Abby. Those few minutes of waiting felt like a lifetime. Soon, a figure walked into the upscale cafe. She wore a perfectly tailored designer suit. She was tall, radiant, and her makeup was flawless. When she saw me, confusion flashed across her eyes, but she confidently walked over anyway. “Hi, I am Abby. And you are?” She extended a manicured hand. I ignored it. “I am Serena.” I skipped the pleasantries. “Serena?” She repeated the name, and a few seconds later, a spark of realization lit up her eyes. “Oh. Nate’s fiancee?” “Ex fiancee.” I looked at her with a deadpan expression. “I came here today to ask you one question.” “What could you possibly need to ask me?” She leaned back in her chair, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. “Is this about Nate?” I held her gaze. “I want to know the result of that tarot reading. Is there still a chance for you two?” Abby blinked, then let out a sharp, amused laugh like I had just told a hilarious joke. “Serena, honey, I think you have the wrong person. Whatever is going on between you and Nate is your business. Coming to me for answers? Do you not realize how pathetic that makes you look?” “It is not pathetic.” I shook my head, keeping my voice utterly flat. “Because he will never tell me the truth.” “After all, he just finalized the deposit for our wedding venue yesterday.” The smirk instantly vanished from Abby’s face. Her eyes turned ice cold. She stared at me for a long moment, then smiled again. This time, it was a petty, vindictive smile. “Alright. You want to see it?” She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and shoved it in my face. It was a screenshot of Nate’s private Instagram story. The image was his chat with Luna the Mystic. [Based on the cards, you are definitely trapped in a love triangle. But you hold all the power. The Knight of Swords indicates a need for quick action. Ultimately, you must follow your heart.] Nate’s caption over the photo read: Follow my heart? I think I might just try that. An invisible fist crushed my lungs. Breathing felt like swallowing glass. I slowly lifted my head and looked at Abby’s triumphant, provocative eyes. I forced the corners of my mouth to curl upward. “Oh. I see he put that on his Close Friends list.” I kept my tone incredibly light. “No wonder it never showed up on my feed.” Abby’s face morphed into something ugly. Embarrassed and angry, she snatched her phone back. “Listen here. This is between me and Nate. What he posts is his choice. It has nothing to do with me!” “You coming here to confront me is completely pointless!” “It better have nothing to do with you.” I stood up, looking down at her. “Trying something new requires an opportunity. If you knowingly insert yourself into someone else’s relationship, then it is no longer just his problem.” I did not bother looking at her reaction. I turned around and pushed through the cafe doors. It was time to end this, Nate. 4 Nate was not home yet when I walked in. I went straight into his home office and booted up his desktop. The password was my birthday. It was so bitterly ironic I almost laughed out loud. I just wanted to find the contracts for the wedding planners and cancel this massive joke of an event as quickly as possible. His desktop was perfectly organized. As my eyes scanned the screen, a folder labeled “Referral” suddenly caught my attention. Abby’s post instantly echoed in my mind. Huge thanks to a certain someone for the referral! A heavy, suffocating dread wrapped around my throat. I double clicked the folder. Inside was a massive list of subfolders, and the naming convention made my blood run entirely cold. [Nova Corp Vanguard Market Analysis] [Nova Corp Vanguard Strategy Deck] [Nova Corp Vanguard Final Proposal] Nova Corp. My company. And Apex Innovations, Nate’s company, was our biggest, most vicious rival bidding for the Vanguard account. It was a multi million dollar international contract. My hand shook violently as I opened one of the files. It was my exact layout. The exact data charts I had built from scratch. It even had my personal shorthand notes in the margins. This was the highly classified project stored in a triple password protected vault on my work computer. How the hell did it end up here? A memory struck me like lightning. A few weeks ago, my laptop system completely crashed. When Nate found out, he used his special external drive to help me run a data recovery. I remembered him kissing the top of my head, gently scolding me for working too hard and not resting enough. So his little data rescue mission was just a cover to install malware and clone my entire hard drive? I was so furious I could not feel my fingers. I forced myself to breathe. In and out. I grabbed my phone and took clear photos of every single file, timestamp, and directory path. Then, I dialed Harper, the head of HR at Apex Innovations. Harper was my sorority sister from college. We were incredibly close. “Did your company just hire a girl named Abby through an internal referral?” My voice trembled. “Yeah, how did you know?” Harper sounded surprised. “Nate pushed her resume through. Said she was a brilliant junior from his old college who just moved back from Europe. Honestly, we usually do not hire like this, but…” “But what?” My chest tightened. “But she absolutely blew us away during her interview.” Harper sounded genuinely impressed. “You know Apex and Nova are fighting over the Vanguard account, right? Vanguard was leaning toward your company. But during Abby’s final interview, she pitched this mind blowing concept. The details were flawless, the data was bulletproof. Our CEO hired her on the spot!” “Why are you asking? Did Nate not tell you?” I did not hear a single word Harper said after that. Just a loud, high pitched ringing in my ears. That was my concept. Those were the details I stayed up until 3 AM perfecting. That was the data I spent months gathering. Just to get Abby a job, Nate was willing to let her step on my neck. He was willing to destroy my entire career and steal my life’s work. My body shook with a rage so pure it felt like ice. I dug my nails into my palms until they bled. “Harper,” my voice dropped an octave, turning deadly calm. “Thank you for telling me. I will explain everything later. I have to go.” I hung up and stared at the “Referral” folder on the screen. Seven years together. Engaged to be married. And yet, when it came to his perfect first love, he happily threw me under the bus. When anger reaches its absolute peak, it turns into a terrifying kind of clarity. If they wanted to play dirty, I was going to bury them both.

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When Payne’s true love passed away, he completely fell apart. His older brother practically “manufactured” me to be her perfect carbon copy. He dropped me right into Payne’s life with one simple directive: Keep him happy, and I’ll wire you ten million a month. No matter how many times Payne screamed at me to get the hell out of his sight, I just sat there, watching him with quiet, unwavering devotion. Eventually, his walls crumbled, and he finally pulled me into his arms. From that moment on, he treated me like absolute royalty. He spoiled me rotten, holding me like I was the most precious thing in his world. But then came the ultimate plot twist. His unforgettable true love—the girl who was supposed to be six feet under—suddenly posted a live location tag from a beach in Hawaii. That night, Payne completely lost his mind. He was so intensely aggressive with me it felt like he was going to tear my bones apart. Every single wealthy elite in the city grabbed their popcorn, waiting to see how the pathetic little stand-in would have a massive, humiliating mental breakdown. Instead, the very next morning, I walked straight into his brother’s office, my face flushed, and asked, “Boss, does this count as a workplace injury? Do I get workers’ comp?” 1 “Workers’ compensation?” Timmy’s voice was frigid. I scratched my cheek, keeping my voice small. “Matthew was so aggressive last night. I don’t have a single patch of good skin left, and it hurts to walk… Mr. Hayes, I can show you if you don’t believe me—” Timmy cut me off, his tone completely flat. “The money will be transferred to your account shortly.” My eyes immediately lit up. “Thank you, Mr. Hayes!” I paused for a second before adding, “And about the severance package…” “Severance package?” Timmy frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face right before his phone started ringing. He answered it. After a long, heavy silence, his eyes narrowed sharply. “She’s still alive?” He hung up the phone. Timmy tapped his long fingers against the mahogany desk. He finally understood what I was asking for. He looked at me and said, “Stay by his side for now. If it turns out he truly doesn’t need you anymore, I will ensure you receive a very generous severance.” I secretly rolled my eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to need me anymore. His one true love wasn’t actually dead. Why on earth would he need a cheap knockoff? But I kept my expression docile, nodded sweetly, and said, “Understood.” I turned to leave. Timmy’s flat voice echoed behind me. “Do not get attached to things that don’t belong to you.” My footsteps faltered. He was warning me. Just like everyone else in this city, he assumed I was going to have a massive mental breakdown. He probably thought I would go insane, maybe even try to hurt someone, fully embracing the role of the toxic, gold-digging substitute. I let out a soft sigh. I really couldn’t blame him for thinking that. For the past three years, Matthew had been absolutely obsessed with me. Recently, he had even started contacting wedding planners. If everything went according to plan, we would be signing the marriage papers very soon. Unfortunately for me, the plan just crashed and burned. Matthew’s unforgettable, irreplaceable true love was alive. My guaranteed spot as the wife of the second Hayes heir had just evaporated. Logically speaking, I should be absolutely losing my mind right now. But over the last few years, I never once forgot my place. The condescending affection I earned by mimicking another woman was never going to last. The only thing that was real, the only thing that actually belonged to me, was the paycheck Timmy deposited into my bank account. I turned back and gave Timmy a bright smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Hayes. For the salary you’re paying me, I promise I won’t disappoint you.” I pushed open the office doors and stepped out. Only to run into someone I completely did not expect to see in the hallway. Locking eyes with him, I froze entirely. “…Matthew?” The breathtakingly handsome man stopped in his tracks. His dark eyes locked onto me like radar. “What are you doing here?” I violently suppressed my panic, my brain working in absolute overdrive. Matthew had absolutely no idea that I knew his brother. He also had no idea that my entire relationship with him was a meticulously calculated setup orchestrated by Timmy himself. Years ago, when Matthew’s true love ‘died’, he completely lost his mind. He spent his days drinking himself into oblivion and street racing, causing a string of massive scandals. He was constantly on the front page of the tabloids, tanking the Hayes Corporation’s stock prices. As the CEO and head of the family, Timmy was irritated and running out of patience. That was until someone mentioned to him that there was a girl working at a high-end club who looked slightly like the dead girl. That girl was me. Stacks of files and photos were dropped in front of me, and I learned quickly. Since I was docile and incredibly easy to control, I was swiftly delivered to Matthew to act as an emotional pacifier. Matthew honestly believed I was just a girl who coincidentally looked like his ex, and happened to be desperately, hopelessly in love with him. Thanks to my relentless ‘devotion’, he eventually started to care about me. If this secret got out— Forget the workers’ comp and the severance package. I wouldn’t even get my salary for this month! I immediately clung to Matthew’s arm, my voice soft and whiny. “When I woke up, you were already gone, and your phone went straight to voicemail. I was so worried, so I came to ask your brother if he knew where you went. You aren’t mad at me, are you, Matthew?” Matthew paused, his tone indifferent. “He’s busy running the corporation. Don’t bother him with trivial things.” Seeing that he bought the lie, I discreetly let out a breath of relief and nodded obediently. “Okay. I won’t do it again.” He gave a careless nod and pulled his arm out of my grip. “Go home.” “What about tonight? You promised we’d have a candlelight dinner.” I pressed on. “I actually managed to get a reservation at that incredibly exclusive restaurant.” Matthew stopped. His long, elegant fingers reached out to stroke my cheek. Exactly the way someone would pet a dog. “Next time.” He said. Unsurprisingly, there probably wasn’t going to be a next time. But I still nodded like a perfect, obedient doll. “Okay.” 2 If Matthew wasn’t going, I was going by myself. I had been dying to eat at this restaurant for ages, but getting a table was notoriously impossible. Just last week, while I was giving Timmy his weekly report on Matthew’s mental state… I casually mentioned, “Mr. Hayes, getting a table at the restaurant on the top floor of the Apex Tower is literally impossible. Do you happen to have any connections?” Timmy put down his pen, looked up at me, and asked abruptly, “Have you mentioned this to Matthew?” I nodded. “He said if it’s too much trouble to book, we should just drop it. He said all fine dining tastes the same anyway. But the interior design there is gorgeous, and I really wanted to see it.” Timmy took a slow sip of his black coffee, his face completely expressionless. Then he made a single phone call. A second later, a reservation confirmation popped up on my phone. … “Miss Winters?” A male voice broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. I lowered my wine glass and looked up. It was the manager from the wedding planning agency I had been in contact with. I offered a polite smile. “You’re dining here tonight as well?” He looked at me for a few seconds, cleared his throat awkwardly, and lowered his voice to probe. “Are things… alright between you and Mr. Hayes?” “Excuse me?” I feigned perfect confusion. “Mr. Hayes’s assistant contacted me. All wedding preparations and venue designs are being put on hold indefinitely.” The man hesitated. “Specifically, everything regarding the bride.” I fully understood why he was panicking. I gave him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry. The wedding isn’t being canceled.” It was a multi-million dollar contract. Nobody wanted to lose that commission. The manager blinked, swallowing the reassurance, and instantly broke into a massive grin. “Well then, congratulations in advance to you and Mr. Hayes!” The wedding wasn’t going to be canceled. The bride was just being swapped out. I didn’t bother explaining the details. After the manager walked away, I started playing with my silverware out of pure boredom. Suddenly, I caught sight of two figures sitting by the floor-to-ceiling windows. I looked over, and my entire body froze in the chair. It was Matthew. He was sitting facing me, but his eyes were completely glued to the woman sitting across from him. Her delicate, slender back. It only took one glance for me to know exactly who she was. After all, I had spent countless hours staring at photos of her, perfectly mimicking her every posture and expression. A waiter arrived to drop off an appetizer. I pointed discreetly across the room. “I tried booking that specific table for months and couldn’t get it. Did they just pay a massive premium?” I only complained casually, not actually expecting an answer. High-end staff were trained to guard their clients’ privacy with their lives. To my surprise, the waiter chuckled softly. “Well, this restaurant operates under the Hayes Corporation. That gentleman over there is the young master of the family. He sits wherever he pleases with a single word.” I sat there, completely stunned. No wonder… When I told Timmy about this place, he gave me this incredibly unreadable look. Then, with one phone call, the table was mine. And Matthew? He couldn’t even be bothered to make that one single phone call for me. I had complained to him so many times about failing to get a reservation here. He would just pull me into his lap, casually playing with my earring, lazily admiring the disappointment on my face. “Oh, you poor thing. Can’t even get the dinner you want.” But then again, that was exactly how he always treated me. No respect, no equality. I was just a pet he could mold and tease whenever he felt like it. For example… I sat quietly, watching the two of them across the room. Matthew would never sit across the table from me. He always demanded I sit right next to him, just so he could easily pull me into his arms and mess with me. He would never politely pour me a glass of wine and engage in a serious, mature conversation. He would just press his own wine glass against my lips and lazily threaten, “Not going to drink it? Do you want me to feed it to you from my mouth?” Honestly, I never really wanted his respect anyway. I always knew exactly where I stood. But seeing him act like a perfect gentleman with her right in front of my eyes still left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. 3 “Well, well. If it isn’t Miss Winters.” A man aggressively dropped into the empty chair across from me, forcing me to rip my eyes away from Matthew’s table. …It was one of Matthew’s obnoxious rich friends. “We were literally taking bets yesterday on how fast Matthew was going to dump you. And look at you, already eating all by yourself.” He smiled with pure malice, his eyes raking over me like I was an object on display. Then he pulled out his phone, blatantly snapped a picture of me, and sent it to a group chat. He held down the voice memo button. “Guess who I just ran into, boys? Matthew really tossed her to the curb.” Sitting there, an absolutely insane thought crossed my mind. If Matthew’s garbage friends were harassing me, could I invoice Timmy for emotional damage? “Without him paying the bills, how are you going to keep up this luxury lifestyle?” He sneered, leaning closer with a sleazy look. “Why don’t you spend a few nights with me? Twenty grand a night. Sound good?” As much as I genuinely wanted to throw my wine directly into his face and tell him my actual boss paid me ten times that… I couldn’t. I still had a deeply devoted, heartbroken persona to maintain. I kept my voice soft and gentle. “That’s not true. Matthew just said he had something important to handle tonight. We’re coming here together next time.” The man actually laughed out loud. He jerked his chin toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Do you see who is sitting over there?” I only glanced over for a second before saying firmly, “That’s just his friend. I would never interfere with his social life.” The man stood up and started walking straight toward their table. He was determined to rip away my last shred of dignity and force me to see exactly how ruthless Matthew really was. Are you kidding me?! I violently suppressed the thrill rising in my chest and quickly hurried after him. This was absolutely perfect. I was desperately looking for a flawless, dramatic exit that wouldn’t make anyone suspicious. Matthew would definitely draw a hard line with me in front of his true love. And I would act completely devastated, but maintain my dignity and leave with a broken heart. That way, I could secure my massive severance check at lightning speed. And if I was lucky, Matthew might even throw a fat breakup check at my face out of guilt. Then we would officially go our separate ways, never to cross paths again. After all, Timmy had explicitly told me that any jewelry, gifts, or allowances Matthew had given me were mine to keep with zero strings attached. While my mind was calculating my net worth, I followed the obnoxious rich kid right up to Matthew’s table. Two pairs of eyes instantly snapped toward me. As expected, the moment Matthew saw me, the color drained from his face. He stared dead at me. The atmosphere instantly turned incredibly bizarre. The woman looked at me and asked, “Your girlfriend?”

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When I got pregnant, my incredibly devoted boyfriend quit his job to pamper me. He managed everything I ate, wore, and used with strict precision. My best friend secretly got a high-end, pregnancy-safe skincare set customized for me. When he found it, he blew his top. “These are all chemicals! They are going to hurt the baby!” I tried to explain that keeping my spirits up was just as important for our child. The moment those words left my mouth, he dropped to his knees with a heavy thud. “I am so sorry! I made you upset! But what if there is something toxic in there and we lose the baby? I would never forgive myself!” His sheer panic threw me off guard. Feeling a bit guilty, I handed the expensive set over for him to “dispose of” properly. That very night, I was scrolling through social media and saw a lifestyle influencer posting a teaser for her next unboxing video. The luxury skincare box in her preview photo was the exact same custom set my best friend had just given me. Curiosity piqued, I clicked into her profile. As I scrolled through her past videos, my blood ran cold. Every single designer item my boyfriend had “disposed of” for the sake of the baby magically appeared on her feed. When a masked man walked into the frame of her latest video, I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. I slowly turned my head to look at the skincare set sitting near the entryway, the one he had not yet taken out to “throw away.” Without missing a beat, I opened my phone and placed a rush order for five bottles of industrial-grade superglue, five bottles of heavy-duty purple skin dye, and a whole lot of pepper extract. 1 My friends always warned me that Oliver was only after my bank account. I never cared. I had more than enough money to go around. Plus, Oliver always knew exactly what to say. “I know I am not in your league,” he used to whisper, holding my hands. “But I want to be the man supporting you behind the scenes. If you ever feel like you do not need me anymore, just say the word and I will walk away. But for now, please let me take care of you.” He quit his corporate job for me. He learned gourmet cooking, got certified as an infant care specialist, and even took doula classes. What reason did I have to reject a gorgeous, multi-talented guy who wanted nothing more than to wait on me hand and foot? I tossed him a black card without a second thought. He never spent a dime recklessly. He would even text me a receipt when he filled up the gas tank. He was so incredibly well-behaved it almost made my heart ache. But there was one specific habit of his that really got under my skin. Like right now. “Oliver! Where did that skincare set Harper sent me go?” Oliver poked his head out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a linen apron. He pursed his lips into a worried pout. “Sienna, honey, you are pregnant. Those commercial products are loaded with harsh chemicals. It is just not safe for the baby.” On the other end of the phone, my best friend Harper absolutely lost her mind. “Sienna! I paid a private dermatological team thousands to formulate that! It is food-grade! Completely safe for expecting mothers! Tell your warden of a boyfriend to hand it back. Pregnant women deserve to feel beautiful too!” I intentionally put her on speakerphone and raised my voice toward the kitchen. “Did you hear her? Hand it over. Do not tell me you donated it behind my back again!” Whenever Oliver “disposed” of my things, he claimed he was dropping them off at charity centers. We had a whole drawer full of donation receipts. He called it “building good karma for the baby.” He ignored my demand. Instead, he walked out of the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl. “You mentioned you were craving carbs yesterday but were worried about the baby weight. So, I minced fresh shrimp and made zero-carb noodles from scratch. I counted every calorie. It will not make you gain a pound, and it is packed with nutrients for you both.” Looking at the perfectly plated dish, all the fight drained right out of me. Oliver sighed, his voice dripping with gentle concern. “I am not trying to stop you from doing your skincare routine. I just genuinely do not trust those lab-made chemicals. I have been taking online courses on making pure, organic cosmetics. Let me make some for you, okay?” Handmade creams, soaps, daily essentials. All my top-tier luxury brands had slowly been replaced by his homemade concoctions. They were not exactly La Mer, but how could I fault a man pouring his entire heart into keeping me safe? I let out a soft sigh. “I am not trying to pick a fight. Just think about it. If I am happy and relaxed, that is good for the baby too, right?” The moment the words left my mouth, his knees hit the hardwood floor. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you miserable?” “I am so sorry, Sienna! The box is right by the door. I will go grab it for you right now. But… what if there is a hidden ingredient in there? What if we lose the baby? I would live in agony for the rest of my life!” His dramatic reaction completely stunned me. Suddenly, I felt like the villain of the story for being too demanding. “Alright, alright, get up. Just promise me you will ask before you donate anything from now on. And leave the skincare alone, it is a gift from Harper.” “I promise! I swear!” He bounced up instantly, a bright, sunny smile taking over his face. “Oh, by the way, honey. A lot of the clothes in your walk-in closet do not fit your bump anymore. They are just taking up space. How about I bag them up and drop them off at the shelter?” I thought about it. I had not cleaned out my closet in ages. I nodded and gave him the green light. I sat at the island counter, enjoying the shrimp noodles, watching him hustle in and out of the master bedroom. One garbage bag. Two bags. Five massive black bags. I stared in absolute shock. “Are you cleaning out a closet or robbing the place?” I marched into the walk-in wardrobe. The entire right wing was practically stripped bare! 2 I eyed the five bulging bags, unable to bite my tongue. “Oliver, does the charity center have a monthly quota you are trying to hit?” “No, Sienna, I swear! I only packed up the old seasonal pieces. You cannot fit into them right now anyway, and some are just a bit too young for a mother-to-be. I did not touch any of your new maternity wear.” For some reason, a bitter taste settled in the back of my throat. Tossing out lotions and serums was one thing. They expired. But designer clothes? Even if I could not zip them up right now, I could wear them after the baby was born. I pointed a manicured finger at the smallest bag. “Take that one to the shelter. Put everything else back.” “But Sienna, unpacking them is such a hassle. Plus, the fabrics are restrictive. You really should not wear them right now. Letting them collect dust is such a waste…” A waste? Every single piece in those bags cost at least four figures. My money. He wanted to give them all away for a couple of printed tax receipts? Did he think I was born yesterday? I gave him one sharp, icy glare. Oliver instantly shut his mouth, grabbed the bags, and silently started hanging everything back up. I went back to my noodles, but my appetite was completely gone. Later, Oliver hovered around me, offering a foot massage, asking if I wanted him to draw a bath. If I ignored the wardrobe incident, the man was practically flawless. “By the way, baby, I need to visit my mom at the hospital tonight. There is a little bit of the shrimp pasta left in the pan. Do you mind if I pack it up for her?” “Go ahead.” Oliver’s mother was chronically ill. He spent multiple nights a week at the hospital keeping her company. When he quit his job, he told me it was to care for me, but I knew a big part of it was to manage his mother’s care. When I found out, I started quietly transferring two thousand dollars into his account every single week. He refused it at first, but eventually accepted it with tears in his eyes. After Oliver left the penthouse, I curled up in bed and started scrolling through my feed. The algorithm loved feeding me pregnancy content. A thumbnail caught my eye. The title read: Unboxing the Custom Luxury Pregnancy Skincare Hubby Got Me! The velvet box in the picture was identical to the one Harper had just given me. Harper told me the formulation was a one-of-a-kind exclusive. Was it possible someone else had the exact same order? I clicked the video. A pretty, heavily pregnant woman was live streaming, showing off her favorite maternity items. A cold chill crawled up my spine. Every single supplement, every brand of organic soap, aligned perfectly with my exact preferences. Some of the prenatal vitamins she showcased were imported and virtually impossible to get locally. The live chat was buzzing. Omg! Everything you use is so high-end! What do you do for a living? The streamer, who went by the name Daisy, giggled. “I am just a stay-at-home mom! My hubby works hard in the city. He spoils me with all these goodies.” I narrowed my eyes. Daisy’s supposed husband clearly had expensive taste and knew exactly what to buy. You did not just stumble across these specific luxury items without serious research. Right at that moment, a familiar voice drifted from the background of the live stream. “Honey, I am home!” Even though the camera only caught the edge of his shoulder, I recognized him instantly. He was wearing the limited-edition designer jacket I bought for his birthday. Oliver. What the hell was he doing there? The chat started begging for the husband to show his face. Daisy smiled coyly. “I cannot, guys! My hubby is a high-level corporate executive. Showing his face online might cause issues at his firm.” I let out a dark chuckle and typed a comment into the chat. Why would showing his face affect his work? Does he have a whole other family hidden somewhere? Instantly, Daisy’s loyal fans dogpiled on me. Who is this bitter troll? Daisy and her man are couple goals! Stop spreading toxic rumors! Exactly! Her husband treats her like a queen! Look, he even brought her dinner! On the screen, Daisy opened a sleek glass Tupperware container. As she lifted the lid to reveal the food inside, the final piece of the puzzle snapped into place. It was my zero-carb shrimp noodles. “Hubby? Did you make this?” “Yeah, minced the shrimp myself. Totally carb-free. I made a bigger batch, but some bloated old cow snatched the rest of it up.” A bloated… old cow? I stared at the glowing screen, my entire body turning to stone. My fingers moved on autopilot, clicking into her profile. Every single video was a showcase of the treasures Oliver had “disposed of” from my apartment. So this was how he built “karma” for our child. What an absolute master of philanthropy. No wonder Oliver never brought up getting married. He already had a wife playing house across town. 3 Taking my money under the guise of visiting his dying mother, only to feed his pregnant mistress. When you hit the absolute peak of disgust, all you can really do is laugh. I reached for my phone, fully prepared to dial his number and scorch the earth. But then Daisy’s whining voice drifted from the speaker. “Hubby, where is that custom skincare set you promised me? I have been waiting to do the unboxing for my fans!” “Sorry, baby, it is going to take a little longer. The bloated old cow at the office threw a fit over it. You know how it is, I have to play nice and let her have her way for now…” A bloated old cow, huh? I closed the app and made a completely different phone call. “Trace Oliver’s phone. I need his exact location right now.” Half an hour later, Harper stormed into my penthouse, practically breathing fire. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! Where is that gold-digging piece of trash!” She dragged me out to the car, fully intent on catching them in the act. During the drive, she cursed his name to high heaven. I leaned against the window, my voice eerily calm. “Oliver is scum, but maybe this Daisy girl is in the dark. She plays the innocent housewife act pretty well online.” The moment we pulled up to the gated community, my generous assumption was shattered. Oliver and Daisy were strolling down the sidewalk, fingers intertwined. The look of pure adoration on his face was even more convincing than the act he put on for me. They were completely oblivious to our car idling in the shadows. “Babe, you keep bringing me that old cow’s hand-me-downs,” Daisy whined, swinging his arm. “When are we going to buy new stuff?” “Most of those clothes still have the designer tags attached. If you do not want to wear them, just flip them online for cash.” “No! I want fresh clothes! Unopened makeup! A new house! I want everything brand new!” Oliver wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. “Just hold on a little longer. Once she gives birth…” “It is always ‘hold on’! You promised you would marry me as soon as you secured the bag. Do you know how many years I have been waiting? Look at how big I am getting! I cannot wait anymore! The luxury recovery clinic, the nurses, it all costs money. We are still short forty grand!” “I mean it this time,” Oliver lowered his voice, the sound carrying perfectly through the crisp night air. “Once she delivers, staging an accident will be child’s play. She has no family left. As the father of her child, I will naturally inherit the entire estate. When that happens, you can have all the new clothes in the world.” Daisy finally giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. “That is more like it. But… what if the cops look into it?” “Relax, I have every angle covered.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “A lonely woman suffering from severe postpartum depression? Who knows what she might do to herself?” Standing in the dark, my phone silently recording every word, the blood froze in my veins. Harper grabbed my hand, her grip bruising. “Sienna, we are going to the police. Right now!” I shook my head slowly, my eyes locked on the happy couple. “Jail is too good for him right now.” We drove straight home. I ordered five bottles of industrial superglue, five bottles of heavy-duty gentian violet dye, and several vials of concentrated pepper extract. I pulled out the gorgeous velvet skincare box and began our little arts and crafts project. The next morning, the smell of breakfast woke me. Oliver was back in his apron. “Morning, Sienna. Oh, Harper, you are here too? Want some breakfast?” Harper did not even look at him, aggressively stirring her black coffee. I sat at the dining table, staring at the lavish spread. I picked up my mug and took a slow sip. “What is wrong? Not hungry?” he asked, looking like a kicked puppy. I forced a tight smile. Harper chimed in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We went out for midnight cravings last night. Stuffed our faces. She is still full.” “Harper, how could you take her out for junk food late at night? She is pregnant!” Oliver furrowed his brow, playing the deeply concerned father to perfection. Harper rolled her eyes and ignored him. Oliver suddenly turned to me, his face shifting into a mask of pure tragedy. “Sienna, my mom took a turn for the worse last night. Could I… could I borrow forty grand to cover the new treatments? Even thirty-five would help!” “How much? Forty grand?!” Harper slammed her mug down. “Oliver, you live in her house, eat her food, and she gives you eight thousand a month for doing nothing! Where exactly is all that money going?” Yes, Oliver. Where exactly is the money going? 4 Oliver stammered, unable to formulate an excuse under Harper’s glare. I stepped in, playing the saint. “Your mom’s health comes first. I will lend it to you. Just use the black card.” “Sienna! You let him walk all over you!” Harper threw her hands up in theatrical disgust. Oliver’s eyes lit up with greedy triumph, but his smug expression crashed when I dropped the next sentence. “Though, given the amount this time, do you think we should write up a quick promissory note? Just for the records.” Oliver froze for a split second before nodding vigorously. “Of course! Absolutely!” He scurried into the home office and drafted a perfectly formatted IOU. While he was busy, I quietly sent a text to my wealth manager, freezing the black card immediately. He handed me the signed paper, even adding his thumbprint for good measure. I laughed softly. “You really wrote it out. Honestly, Oliver, you hold the card anyway. Writing an IOU… I really could not find a more honest man if I tried.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking bashful. “Every penny I spend on that card, I want you to know about. I want everyone to know I love you for you, not your bank account.” He directed that last part at Harper. Harper and I locked eyes, both fighting the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. Before he rushed out the door, I shoved the velvet skincare box into his hands. “Actually, just throw this out for me. You were right. I need to be careful with chemicals. Keeping myself healthy is the priority.” Harper immediately played her part, shouting from the kitchen. “Hey! Sienna! I spent fifteen grand on that set!” Hearing the price tag, Oliver’s eyes practically turned into dollar signs. He clutched the box to his chest and leaned in to hug me. I smoothly pivoted, dodging his touch. “Hurry up and go. You do not want to delay your mom’s treatment.” Two hours later, Daisy’s livestream went live right on schedule. The title was nauseatingly sweet. [Late Night Pampering! Hubby Unboxes 5-Figure Custom Skincare Set!] Harper and I curled up on my plush sofa, armed with a giant bowl of popcorn. We had already texted my marketing team to quietly flood her stream with paid traffic.

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