My best friend, Finn, lost everything to his ex-wife and had to move in with me. To cheer him up, I took him traveling, stayed up drinking with him, and even gave him an unlimited supplementary credit card. I just wanted to see him happy again.
But my girlfriend, Ava, was unhappy. She complained constantly, thinking Finn was too spoiled. He insisted on being driven everywhere, refused to wear clothes twice, needed someone to shell his seafood, and would only eat the best parts of fruit. She snapped at me, asking if I was born to be his servant, adding that with that attitude, it was no wonder his wife left.
I seriously told her I owed my success to Finn and asked her to be more patient for my sake.
Later, I traveled to London for a business assessment. I video-chatted with Finn daily, seeing him slowly heal, start a new job, and rebuild his life. I finally felt at ease.
Three months later, I returned home. The moment I walked in, I saw Finn lying on my sofa. Ava was skillfully shelling a king crab leg, placing the meat gently into his bowl. The tender look in her eyes was something I’d never seen before.
1
A dead silence fell over the room, broken only by the commentary of a soccer game on TV.
Finn was the first to react. He scrambled up from the sofa and walked toward me, his face stiff.
“Dean… when did you get back? You should have told us… I… I would have picked you up.”
Ava stood quietly behind him, saying nothing.
Finn forced a smile. “You must be tired. Let me get you a glass of water.”
He turned and fumbled for a glass on the coffee table, knocking over the pitcher and sending water spilling across the floor.
Ava frowned, grabbing a paper towel to clean it up. “Stop making a mess. You don’t know how to do any of this.”
The words were a scolding, but the intimacy in her tone was unmistakable.
The last shred of hope I was clinging to vanished. My hand tightened around the handle of my bag, the leather digging a deep red line into my palm.
“When did this start?”
Finn flinched, instinctively glancing back at Ava.
But her expression was calm. She stepped forward, shielding him behind her. “It has nothing to do with him. It was me.”
Her voice was as flat as if she were commenting on the weather.
Ava was a force in the business world—decisive, ruthless, never one for sentiment. Outsiders always said she was cold, unapproachable. I was the only one who ever saw her emotional side.
I used to think I was her only exception.
But now, she stood against me, her placid tone drawing a line that firmly shut me out.
Finn grew anxious. “No… Dean, listen to me, we’re not…”
I just stared at him. His mouth opened and closed, but no coherent explanation came out.
A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Can’t even come up with a decent lie?”
Finn’s face went even paler.
Ava took his wrist. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice low. “I’ll handle this.”
She stepped toward me and took my luggage. “Dean, let’s go talk outside.”
I stared at her face. It had only been three months, but she was a stranger to me. My chest felt tight, my voice sinking into a low growl. “Ava, this is my house. And you’re asking me to leave?”
She was silent for a moment, then her voice softened with a hint of a plea. “Dean, please. He caught a cold yesterday. Can you just let him rest?”
I pressed a hand to my chest. There was no wound, but it felt like I’d been punched, hard.
Ava picked up her coat from the back of a chair and spoke gently to Finn. “You get some sleep. Leave the rest to me. I’ll bring you back those crab cakes from the Pier Street bistro when I’m done.”
I turned and walked out. If I stayed another second, I wasn’t sure what I would do.
In the hotel suite, Ava sat on a distant sofa. She poured herself a glass of water, took a few sips, and then spoke, her voice low.
“It was my fault. Name your price.”
“I fell for him first. Don’t blame him.”
I stared at her, enunciating each word. “Why?”
Ava set down her glass and rubbed her temples. “Dean, you’re smart, capable. You never panic. But Finn’s not like you. He can’t make it without me.”
I looked at her face, distorted by the light refracting through the glass, and the absurdity of it all hit me. Before, when Finn was just my best friend, Ava couldn’t stand him. She called him a dramatic, spoiled brat who was completely out of touch with reality, a parasite who could only survive by clinging to others.
Three months ago, when I had to leave for London, I had to practically beg her before she reluctantly agreed to lend him a hand if he needed it. She’d even shown a rare flash of petulance, punching me playfully on the shoulder. “Dean Grant, you haven’t even married me yet and I’m already stuck cleaning up your messes. You’d better make this up to me when you get back.”
I had laughed and pulled her into my arms, promising her that as soon as the London project was over, we would get married.
Now, just three short months later, everything had changed.
Ava stood up, her expression a complex mixture of emotions. “I’m sorry. For the projects we worked on together, I’ll give you an extra 20% of my profits. And if you ever need my help in the future, just ask.”
“I only have one condition. You’re incredibly important to Finn. He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend.”
I looked up at her, almost laughing in disbelief.
Three months ago, I had used that exact same reasoning to ask her to take care of my best friend.
Three months later, I was the one being asked.
My voice was dangerously low. “Ava, do you two think I was just born to be treated like this? I will make sure everyone knows what you did. If you had the guts to do it, you’d better have the guts to own it.”
A flicker of something dark crossed her eyes. “Dean, don’t be impulsive. You started with nothing. It wasn’t easy getting to where you are. Don’t throw it all away in a moment of anger.”
The warning in her voice was clear.
I looked at her, a true stranger. People always said Ava was ruthless and unsentimental. I never believed them. Now I knew. The rumors were true. She had simply given all her sentiment to me, and now, she had taken it back to give to someone else.
“I should go. He doesn’t sleep well when I’m not there.”
“I’ll take him with me tomorrow. I’m sorry you have to go through this tonight.”
The door clicked shut. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Outside the window, the city lights glittered. I had rushed all the way home from across the world, only to be tossed into a cold, sterile hotel room while the two most important people in my life were in my home, in my bed.
The irony was suffocating.
The next day, I parked outside the dessert shop where Finn worked. He was in his uniform. His eyes lit up when he saw me, then he quickly looked down. He brought me a coffee and sat across from me, his smile stiff as he spoke hesitantly.
“Dean, I know you’re mad at me. I’m so sorry. All these years, thanks to you…”
“Look, I have a job now. I’ll pay you back everything I owe you…”
I glanced at the watch on his wrist—it was worth tens of thousands of dollars—and let out a cold laugh.
“Pay me back? With this job?”
Finn froze.
He had married right after college and became a stay-at-home husband. His ex-wife had been decent to him, putting up with his temperamental nature. Combined with my unconditional support, Finn’s life had been a breeze.
Until six months ago, when his wife cheated on him with her male assistant. Within two months, she had divided their assets and kicked him out. If I hadn’t shown up, he probably would have been starving on the street.
He wanted a fresh start, but he’d been out of the workforce for so long, he couldn’t handle a normal job. Luckily, he had developed a passion for baking during his time as a homemaker and managed to get a job as a pastry chef at this shop.
I didn’t say anything. I just beckoned with my hand. The manager immediately came over, standing respectfully. “Mr. Grant, you’re here.”
The color drained from Finn’s face. His eyes went wide.
I took off my sunglasses, my voice even. “After your divorce, you were a wreck. You said you wanted to work, to start over.”
“Finn, you’re not stupid. Did it never occur to you? You were getting rejected everywhere, so how did you just happen to land a job at this specific shop? Why would they hire a pastry chef with zero professional experience?”
“I treated you like a brother. Is this how you repay me?”
Finn’s hands started to shake, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know… I really didn’t know…”
He suddenly grabbed my arm. “But she’s good to me. She really cares about me. Dean, you’re so strong. You can live without anyone. I can’t.”
“You always said you’d share anything you have with me. I don’t want anything else. I just want her. Please?”
I stared at him. Twenty-five years of friendship, since we were three years old.
In that single moment, it shattered into a million pieces.
“Growing up, I would have given you anything you asked for.”
“But taking without asking, Finn? That’s called stealing.”
When Ava arrived, she found Finn collapsed at my feet, sobbing uncontrollably.
Her face changed instantly. She strode over, pulled him up, and sheltered him behind her. Her eyes, when they met mine, were terrifyingly cold. She spoke through gritted teeth.
“Dean Grant, I told you to come after me. Don’t you dare make this hard for him.”
“How much money has he spent of yours over the years? Just name a price. I’ll pay you back in full.”
I looked at her and laughed. “You certainly have deep pockets. But unfortunately for you both, what you owe me is a debt you can never repay.”
Ava’s face darkened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Finn suddenly yelled, “Enough!”
He was trembling, but he looked me straight in the eye. “Dean, you owe me this. Hate me, resent me, I don’t care. I’m not letting her go. From now on, we’re even.”
He tore off his work apron, took Ava’s hand, and they walked away without a backward glance.
I sat there by the window, watching two boys in school uniforms outside, sharing an ice cream, laughing.
I reached up and touched my face. It was wet with tears.
Finn and I had known each other since we were three. We were inseparable from elementary school through college. As long as I could remember, my parents were locked in a constant war. The only reason they never divorced was because neither of them wanted the burden of raising me. Every time they smashed the house to pieces, Finn would quietly let himself in, help me clean up the mess, and then drag me to his family’s dinner table.
The year we graduated high school, it was Finn who sold his watch to pay for my first year of college tuition. He sucked on a popsicle, acting like it was nothing. “Hey, I suck at school, but you’re a genius. It’d be a waste for you not to go.”
“Don’t look so down, Dean. I always knew you were special. When you make it big someday, just remember to buy me ten nice watches.”
Throughout my entire youth, Finn was the first person who ever stood up for me. He was the brother I cherished most.
When I finally went back to my apartment, there was no trace of them. I stood in the empty space for a long time. When I bought this place, I had set aside a room just for him. Ava had complained about it, but I just smiled and said it was a promise. I was the best man at his wedding. When he tossed me the boutonnière, I told him that as long as I was around, he would always have a home to come back to.
Now, I was the one who was homeless.
Ava had left some of her things behind. Her certificate from a university competition, photos from our vacations, our matching toothbrushes in the bathroom, the blanket on the sofa, the book on the coffee table she hadn’t finished.
I closed my eyes, and all I could see were images of the two of them tangled together on that sofa.
I stormed into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, then stared at my reflection. Ava had been my senior in college, my teammate in an entrepreneurship competition. The day she asked me out, she was uncharacteristically shy. “Dean, you’re the smartest, most reliable man I’ve ever met. Let me take care of you from now on.”
After graduation, I worked in Big Tech for a couple of years before striking out on my own. Ava helped me immensely. She was my partner in battle, my closest confidant. Because of her, I started to heal from the shadows of my childhood and consider the idea of building a family.
I truly intended to spend the rest of my life with her.
I looked at myself in the mirror and clenched my fists.
They were the reason I had fought so hard, the finish line for all my ambitions.
And then they stabbed me in the back.
Why?
I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long, long time.
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1
At a college reunion, my boyfriend’s freshman flame draped herself over his shoulder, drunkenly suggesting a real-life partner swap game.
The room fell quiet. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes darting toward me.
But Jax couldn’t stand to see her look disappointed. Before I could even open my mouth, he shot me a look, his eyelids lifting lazily. “It’s just a game, Ivy. Don’t be a buzzkill.”
And just like that, his best friend became my new boyfriend.
His old flame became his new girlfriend.
They went on dates, held hands, and hugged right in front of me. Then, behind my back, they moved into the house we were supposed to share, kissing, their passion igniting.
No one took my objections seriously.
Seeing the blood drain from my face, Jax just took a drag from his cigarette, unconcerned. “You agreed to this, Ivy. Don’t be a sore loser.”
The day the game was supposed to end, he came back to me, telling me it was time for us to get married.
But I slipped my hand from his grasp and turned to kiss his best friend on the lips.
“Is that right? Because my game has just begun.”
The world went white for a second when Jax pushed me into Cole’s arms.
“Sorry,” I mumbled instinctively, trying to push myself up, but I felt a light tug on my palm. It was the faintest touch, but it made my heart skip a beat.
The man didn’t even look at me. His large hand steadied my arm as he leaned in, his voice a cool whisper against my ear, laced with a distinct thread of mockery.
“After leaving me, Ivy, you still end up with guys like this?”
The memories I had buried so deep, the ones I’d tried so hard to forget, suddenly burst forth. Dark, humid rainy days. The sticky heat of bodies pressed close, our breath mingling with every turn. Our eyes meeting, then melting into another kiss.
Everything converged on the man in front of me.
Before me were Cole’s eyes, so dark they were almost cold. Behind me, the crowd was chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”
And then there was Jax, the man who had physically pushed me away.
I bit my lip and looked away, scrambling to get out of Cole’s embrace. When I turned back, Jax and Sienna were already holding hands, their fingers intertwined.
It had been less than three seconds since Sienna had proposed the twisted game.
It took Jax two years into our relationship before he reluctantly let me hold his hand.
A thick film of plastic seemed to wrap around my chest, suffocating me.
Someone, always eager to stir the pot, sidled up to Cole. “So, what do you think, man? Ivy was the star of our department back in the day. This is a win for you.”
Cole lifted a finger to his nose, inhaling its scent for a moment before his gaze flicked to me.
My mind flashed back to a summer in our sophomore year, another one of those dark, sticky rainy days. An endless downpour raged outside the window. He had me pinned against the wall with one arm, his other hand bringing a single finger to my lips.
“Want a taste, Ivy?”
The memory shattered. I hastily looked away.
A small smirk played on Cole’s lips. “I’m in.”
All eyes turned to me. “Come on, Ivy, you’re the last one.”
My hand, resting on my lap, clenched into a fist. Before I could speak, Jax leveled that same dismissive gaze at me. “It’s just a game, Ivy. Don’t be a buzzkill.”
There it was again.
Growing up, Jax always made the decisions. He never once asked for my opinion.
When we started college, he decided it was inconvenient for me to live in the dorms if I was going to run his errands, so he had me move in with his best friend, Cole.
The year we graduated, he suddenly said, “Ivy, let’s try dating.”
And today, it was, “It’s just a game, Ivy. Don’t be a buzzkill.”
But we were supposed to get married in two weeks.
My dad died in a car crash when I was five. My mom was bedridden, and I was sent to live with Jax’s family. They were my lifeline, paying for my mother’s medical bills, for my college.
So, my entire life, I had never said no to Jax.
This time was no different.
I looked up, forcing a smile. “I’m in, too.”
The room erupted in cheers, as if they’d just won a championship.
“Scoot over, Ivy,” Sienna said, pulling Jax toward me. “For the next two weeks, Jax is my boyfriend.” She nudged me with the toe of her designer heel. “Cole’s your new man.”
I followed her gaze. Cole was sitting alone on the two-seater sofa, his expression a mask of cold indifference.
2
He was looking at me, too.
I broke eye contact, got up to give them my spot, and forced myself to sit down next to Cole.
Sienna perched on Jax’s lap and giggled. “I know Cole’s a catch, but don’t forget this is just a game, Ivy. Try not to fall for him for real.”
Jax smiled, playfully tapping her nose. “What are you talking about? Ivy lived at Cole’s place for four years and nothing happened. You think a guy like Cole would actually be interested in her?”
“You never know,” Cole said.
His two words silenced the entire room. My breath hitched.
Jax’s gaze darkened as he stared at Cole.
Without looking up, Cole flicked his lighter open and shut, his voice flat. “It was a joke. Don’t take it seriously.”
The tension remained thick in the air until the class president tried to smooth things over. “It’s just a game, guys! Let’s just have fun.”
“Right, and speaking of rules,” he added, “no real kissing or, you know, doing it.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Jax cupped Sienna’s chin and crashed his lips onto hers.
“If you’re going to play,” he said, pulling back for a second, “play to win. Don’t be a sore loser.”
In that instant, all the color drained from my face.
A chorus of gasps and whoops filled the room as they fell into another desperate, clinging kiss. I felt like a clown. I quickly looked away, blinking back tears as I reached for a drink.
Cole intercepted, swapping the glass of whiskey for a glass of orange juice. “Don’t cry,” he said softly.
In that moment, a profound exhaustion washed over me.
After the party, we all headed toward the parking garage.
Sienna glanced back, a sly grin on her face. “Ivy, you and Cole are standing so far apart.”
Jax turned at the sound of her voice.
The others followed suit.
Cole and I were on opposite sides of the lane, a sea of space between us.
“Even if you can’t bring yourself to kiss,” Sienna laughed, “you could at least hold hands for show.”
The others chimed in. “Yeah, you’re already in the game, drop the act! Hold hands, hold hands!”
My fingers twitched.
Cole stood in the shadows, his expression unreadable. He didn’t move.
The catcalls grew louder, their teasing gazes feeling like needles on my back. I took a deep breath and slowly shuffled toward him, hesitantly reaching out my hand.
Just as my fingertips were about to touch his, his pinky finger curled slightly.
Suddenly, Jax strode over and pulled me back.
“If you don’t want to play, don’t force it,” he sighed, reaching up to stroke my hair. “When the game’s over, the wedding’s still on.”
Cole’s jaw tightened, his eyes glinting with a sharp, chilling light.
Everyone else just looked at each other, the teasing mood broken.
Jax led me to his car and opened the passenger door. As I bent to get in, Sienna blocked my way. Her tone was sharp. “Did you forget, Ivy? The game isn’t over. Jax is my boyfriend now, and he’s taking me home.”
I froze, looking at Jax.
He chewed on his cigarette and glanced at Sienna, who just huffed and shoved me aside, climbing into the car. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud.
Jax rubbed his nose, his voice softening. “Ivy, just stay at Cole’s for a few days.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just for a little while. And if you don’t want to play, that’s fine. I know Cole. He won’t try anything.”
Just like every other time, Jax didn’t ask for my opinion. He just decided.
With that, he got into the driver’s seat. The Maybach peeled out of the garage, and the others soon left as well, leaving me alone in the echoing concrete space. In the end, I got into Cole’s car.
We hadn’t seen each other in three years. I thought he would ask me why I’d vanished without a word during our senior year. I thought I would ask him why he was engaged to Sienna.
But neither of us did.
The drive was silent.
Half an hour later, as we were on the freeway, my phone buzzed.
When I saw the screen, my mind exploded.
It was a photo from Sienna.
The background was the master bedroom of the house Jax and I had bought together. On the bedsheets I had just put on yesterday, there was a single crimson stain amidst a chaotic mess.
[Sienna]: A little reunion gift for Jax. My first time.
[Sienna]: Don’t worry, Ivy, it’s just a game. I’m telling you this so you don’t get the wrong idea.
[Sienna]: Jax was chasing me all through college. If we wanted something to happen, you would have never even been in the picture.
The year we graduated, Jax had suddenly asked me out right after Sienna had rejected his confession.
That’s why he agreed to this twisted game at the reunion today.
Sienna was his unattainable prize.
I was his consolation prize.
I knew all of this.
But seeing that stain… it felt like a million ants crawling up my throat. I felt sick.
A large hand reached over and took the phone from my grasp. Cole tossed a pack of tissues onto my lap.
“Wipe your tears.”
3
Just like seven years ago, Cole gave me a room of my own, separated from his by a single wall.
Seven years ago, we found a stray Ragdoll cat together. We named him Milo. Cole had brought him all the way from his old city to this one. Now, Milo was an old man.
But he hadn’t forgotten me. As soon as I held out my hand, he nudged his head against it, purring contentedly.
“He’s missed you.”
I didn’t know when Cole had appeared. He handed me a glass of water, leaning against the doorframe, his voice quiet.
I took the glass and sipped, my lips pressed together. The words, “And what about you?” died on my tongue. I had no right to ask. We had never put a label on it.
Back then, when I first moved in with Cole, we kept a careful distance. We barely spoke.
That winter break during our sophomore year, Jax had promised to go home with me for the holidays. But on the day we were supposed to leave, he bailed to drive Sienna to the airport instead. I stood in the snow for three hours before Cole found me and took me back to his place.
He brushed the snow from my hair and put a warm mug in my hands. Then, he stood behind me, his fingers combing through my hair as the hairdryer hummed.
The distance between us shrank.
Hormones, the perfect atmosphere… I can’t remember who made the first move. We kissed. We ended up in bed.
That was the first time, and it was just the beginning. The study, the floor-to-ceiling windows, in front of the mirror, the shower… we left our mark everywhere.
One restless night, I tentatively texted him: “Want to try making this official?”
Cole never replied. He responded to every other message, but that one he left hanging. No yes, no no.
Our undefined relationship lasted until the second semester of our senior year. Then I moved out, cutting off all contact.
And now, here we were. He was Sienna’s fiancé, and I was Jax’s.
I didn’t sleep at all that night.
After that, Jax didn’t contact me for a long time. Sienna, however, posted on her Instagram story every day, and Jax was always in the frame. He took her to movies, bungee jumping, rock climbing. They kissed at the top of the Ferris wheel.
Meanwhile, the only time Cole and I spoke was when we were feeding the cat.
I found some time to go to the bridal shop. The wedding dress was the last thing my mother designed for me before she passed away. Whether Jax and I got married or not, I had to get it back.
But when I got there, the consultant who had helped me before looked at me with a pained expression. “Miss Shaw, your fiancé was here this morning. He picked up the dress.”
“He was with another young woman,” she added, her voice dropping. “He said she was… his girlfriend.”
Her words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I fled, their sympathetic gazes burning into my back.
On the way back, Jax called. He asked how I was doing at Cole’s, if I’d eaten, what I wanted for lunch tomorrow. He offered to buy it and bring it to my office.
I answered every question robotically.
Then I asked, “Jax, where is my wedding dress?”
Silence on his end.
On the video call, I could see him sitting in a living room, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a constellation of red marks dotted his neck.
After a long moment, he blew out a smoke ring. “Let’s just get a new one, Ivy.”
My heart sank. Just then, a video popped up from Sienna.
In the video, she was wearing my wedding dress, pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window by Jax. They were locked in a passionate kiss. Then, Jax’s hands moved, and he began to rip the delicate fabric, piece by piece, letting it fall to the floor in a stained, ruined heap.
[Sienna]: Is this the dress you were asking about, Ivy? So sorry, Jax and I got a little carried away last night. 😉
[Sienna]: Don’t be mad. I’ll pay for a new custom one for your wedding. It’s no big deal.
[Sienna]: It’s just a game, after all. Don’t be so sensitive. You and Cole can play like this too, you know.
Rage, pure and hot, tore through me. I couldn’t stop myself from screaming into the phone. “That was my mother’s design! Jax, how could you take it? HOW COULD YOU!”
But Jax just sounded annoyed as he stubbed out his cigarette. “That’s enough, Ivy. It’s just a game. You agreed to this, so stop being a sore loser.”
“We’re getting married in a few days. Can you please not ruin the mood?”
Then he hung up.
When I tried to call back, I found he had blocked me. My anger, my hurt, my helplessness—it was all a joke.
I closed my eyes, wiping away tears as I pulled up the number for the wedding planner, ready to cancel everything. But my finger hovered over the screen. Instead, I went to my block list and unblocked a number that had been there for three years.
“Cole, this partner swap game… is the offer still on the table?”
The silence on the other end stretched on for a long time before he finally spoke. “It is.”
“Wait for me at home.”
I wiped my eyes and hailed a cab. When I got back, Cole was waiting, a pack of tissues in his hand.
He saw me and let out an almost inaudible sigh. “Why are you crying again…”
I walked straight up to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and crushed my lips against his.
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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.
🌟 Continue the story here
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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.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “433771”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
The apocalypse struck suddenly, plunging the world into chaos. My best friend was infected while saving me, and our group immediately threw her out of the safehouse.
On night watch, guilt drove me to sneak her some canned food. But as I touched the lock, glowing text appeared in my vision. It looked like live stream comments.
One warned that opening the door would let the Mother of the Infected in, getting the Male Lead bitten. Another defended me, saying I owed my friend. A third said this was a setup for romance. Without the bite, the MC would not nurse him and they would never fall in love. Someone added that after being bitten, the Male Lead lost his edge and got a prosthetic arm just to please the MC, while she lived a pampered life.
I pulled my hand back. My friend was destined to become the Mother of the Infected. That sounded fierce. As for the Male Lead, maybe he would make a good midnight snack for her.
1
The comments were still rolling in.
[LMAO look at the MC hesitating. What a useless damsel. She doesn’t even have the guts to open the door.] [Don’t open it! Opening it means dooming the Male Lead. Keeping it shut means they survive.] [Honestly, the best friend got done dirty. She saved the MC just to get tossed out to die. But whatever, she’s just a plot device.]
I stared at the glowing lines floating past my eyes. My fingertips were still resting on the deadbolt.
The lock was freezing. It made my skin look ridiculously soft and pale, completely out of place in this hellscape.
It had been a month since the outbreak. These hands hadn’t lifted a single heavy supply crate. They hadn’t killed a single walker. I had barely even wrapped a bandage for anyone else.
Why?
Because I never had to.
My best friend, Sloane, took on every single dirty, brutal job.
When she was clearing out biters, I was hiding in the evacuation zone. When she was scavenging for food, I was resting in the safehouse.
Even her getting thrown out to die was because she shoved me through the safehouse doors during a massive horde attack, missing her own window to get inside by a fraction of a second.
She was so strong. She was so capable that everyone just assumed it was her job to protect the rest of us.
And I was so weak. I was so fragile that everyone assumed I was born to be protected.
My hand trembled against the cold metal.
The lock clicked softly. It sounded like the door was about to swing open.
“What the hell are you doing?”
2
Chris’s voice echoed behind me.
I turned around. Chris had already sat up from his sleeping bag.
In the dim glow of the corner emergency light, I could clearly see the impatience written all over his face.
He was undeniably gorgeous. Sharp jawline, piercing eyes. He looked like an action movie star.
But right now, that handsome face was full of pure disgust for me, the so-called useless MC.
The chat was right.
In the original plot, I was just a pretty vase. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t carry my own weight. My only purpose in this story was to play nurse when the Male Lead got hurt, fall in love with him, and fulfill every single romantic trope in the book.
My delicate, fragile nature only existed to add some spice to his post-apocalyptic power fantasy.
It was sickening.
I looked at Chris and answered with a completely flat voice.
“I want to give Sloane some food.”
Sloane was my best friend.
Three hours ago, she took a zombie scratch to the arm while covering my blind spot. Chris was the one who personally gave the order to kick her out of the safehouse.
When Sloane was forced out, she looked back at me one last time.
There was zero resentment in her eyes. It was just a calm, quiet look that told me to stay alive.
She even smiled at me.
And then the heavy iron doors slammed shut in her face.
3
Chris furrowed his brows.
“Are you out of your mind?”
[Here we go! Classic bleeding-heart Mary Sue moment!] [MC, please use your brain! She’s a zombie now! Opening that door is going to get everyone killed!] [I swear, how did someone this dumb survive a whole month?] [To be fair, I don’t think the MC is wrong. The bestie literally saved her life. Giving her a snack isn’t a crime. It’s not like she’s letting her inside.] [Get out of the chat, you bleeding-heart sympathizer.]
The floating text turned into a massive argument.
I ignored it. I turned my head and looked at the other people in the safehouse.
Seven people. All of them were awake.
Not a single one of them stood up to back me.
Garrison sneered, looking like he was holding back a string of curses.
Toby curled up in the corner. He didn’t dare look me in the eye, let alone speak up for me.
Then there was the middle-aged couple. Martha clutched her husband’s arm, while Marcus just shook his head at me like I was a clueless toddler.
“Sloane isn’t a zombie,” I said.
“She was just infected. She hasn’t fully turned yet. She still has her consciousness, and she saved every single one of your lives.”
It was the absolute truth.
Three days ago, the first horde hit our perimeter. A crawler pinned Garrison to the concrete. Sloane was the one who caved its skull in with a steel pipe, dragging Garrison back from the brink of death.
Two days ago, Toby caught a severe fever from a minor infection.
Sloane risked her life, looting three infested apartment blocks just to find him antibiotics.
As for Martha and Marcus, the only reason they made it to this safehouse was because Sloane acted as their human shield on the highway. She still had a half-healed gash on her shoulder from protecting them.
Every single person breathing in this room had survived because of Sloane.
I just couldn’t understand it.
When Sloane was the one in danger, why was their very first instinct to throw her to the wolves and watch her die without a shred of guilt?
“That’s completely different.” Garrison spat, sounding incredibly annoyed.
“She’s infected now. She could turn at any second. The rules are the rules. You pity her, but who is going to pity us?”
“Exactly.” Martha chimed in from the corner.
“Monica, we know you have a good heart. But this is the apocalypse. Having a good heart gets you killed. Sloane was a great kid, but she’s not human anymore.”
I dug my heels in.
“She is still human right now. It’s only been three hours since the scratch. A full mutation takes at least eight.”
But they were completely deaf to reason.
“We can’t take that gamble!” Marcus snapped coldly. “We have too many lives in this room. Your friend is just one person. If she dies, she dies! Do not drag us down with your suicidal empathy!”
Chris finally stepped in, delivering the final verdict with a voice made of ice.
“Bottom line. I am not letting you open that door.
“Think about it. If you open it, even just a crack, the smell of fresh meat will draw the biters straight inside. All eight of us, including you, will be ripped apart.”
I looked at him like he had grown a second head.
“Hold on. Who exactly told you I was going to open the door?”
“I never said I was opening the door.”
4
Chris froze.
The chat froze too.
[Huh? She’s not opening the door? Then what was she doing at the lock?] [Did the MC actually grow a brain cell? No way, she’s supposed to be a total simp for the ML in the novel.] [Wait, is she going to…]
I dug through my survival pack and pulled out a coil of heavy-duty climbing rope.
It was about fifty feet long. More than enough to reach the ground from our second-story window.
I went over to our supply stash and grabbed two cans of Spam, a bottle of purified water, and a pack of high-calorie survival biscuits.
I wrapped them tightly in a plastic bag and tied them securely to the end of the rope.
The main door to the safehouse was solid welded iron. It was completely airtight.
But the windows were a different story.
The second-floor windows were boarded up with thick planks, but there were gaps between the wood. Definitely enough space to slip a rope through.
Everyone in the room instantly realized what I was doing.
Toby was the first to speak, his voice practically a whisper.
“That… that actually works. We keep the door shut, just lower the food down…”
“Shut up.” Chris shot him a lethal glare, and Toby instantly shrank back against the wall.
Chris marched over to me and grabbed the rope out of my hands.
“Are you seriously doing this?”
I frowned, keeping my voice dangerously low. “Let go.”
“You want to waste our rations at a time like this?” Chris’s voice dropped to a freezing register.
“You’re giving food to a dead woman. What is the point? She takes two bites, turns into a monster, and all those calories go straight to hell. Our supplies are already running low. Do you have any idea how—”
“I know.” I cut him off sharply.
“I know supplies are low. I know she’s dying. I know that once she turns, this food is completely wasted. But I do not care.”
I glared right back into his eyes.
“She saved my life. She saved your lives. Even the food I’m giving away right now? She scavenged most of it. I refuse to sit here and watch her starve to death outside our walls just because you all lost your humanity.”
My voice wasn’t loud, but every single word hit the room like a sledgehammer.
Garrison looked away.
Martha’s eyes darted nervously to the floor. She kept her mouth shut.
Chris’s face turned incredibly ugly.
The floating text started flooding my vision again.
[Holy crap, the MC is actually standing her ground?] [Honestly, valid point. The bestie kept them all alive. Sparing a couple of cans of Spam is the least they could do.] [Logic doesn’t exist in the apocalypse! You don’t mix feelings with survival. The MC is just a bleeding heart.] [Bro, she isn’t even opening the door. She’s literally just lowering a snack on a rope. How is that being a bleeding heart?]
The chat went back to screaming at each other. I tuned them out.
Chris stared at me for a few long seconds before abruptly dropping the rope.
“Fine.”
He looked at me, a mocking sneer twisting his lips.
“Do whatever you want. But let me remind you. The second you crack that window, noise and scent are going to leak out. Are you absolutely sure a couple of cans of Spam are worth the risk?”
I nodded without a shred of hesitation. “Worth it.”
5
I walked over to the window and carefully pried two of the wooden planks just a fraction of an inch further apart.
The night wind immediately rushed in, carrying the foul, metallic stench of rotting blood.
I squinted, peering down into the darkness.
A small, familiar figure was crammed into the narrow space between a dumpster and the brick wall.
It was Sloane.
She was terrified that she would turn and attack someone, so she had forced her body into the tightest, smallest ball possible.
My chest tightened so painfully I almost choked on a sob.
Once the virus took hold, human senses became incredibly sharp.
Sloane heard the faint scrape of the wood. Her head snapped up.
Across a fifty-foot drop in the dead of night, our eyes locked.
I saw her pupils.
They hadn’t turned into that milky, dead gray yet. They were still her beautiful, deep brown.
There was still light in them. There was still consciousness. Her human soul was still fighting.
I carefully fed the rope through the gap, lowering the plastic bag of food into the alley.
Sloane saw it. She struggled to her feet, stumbling forward a few clumsy steps, and grabbed the plastic bag.
She looked up at me.
She didn’t make a sound, but I could read her lips perfectly in the moonlight.
“Dumbass.”
Then she clutched the bag to her chest, slowly slid back down against the brick wall, and buried her face in her knees.
6
I turned away from the window and faced a room full of absolute silence.
Chris was sneering.
Garrison was sighing dramatically.
Martha was shaking her head.
Toby was secretly wiping tears from his eyes.
The chat was still arguing.
But I truly didn’t care anymore.
I pulled the rope back up, sealed the wooden planks tight, and walked back to my sleeping bag to sit down.
And then, I waited.
The chat explicitly said my best friend was supposed to storm the room the second I opened the door and bite Chris.
But I never opened the door.
I was incredibly curious to see how this plot was going to fix itself.
The minutes ticked by.
At exactly three in the morning, the chat absolutely exploded.
[WTF WTF WTF!!! LOOK AT THE HORIZON!!!] [WHAT IS THAT?? WHAT IS THAT THING??] [IT’S A HORDE!!! A MASSIVE FREAKING HORDE!!!]
I shot to my feet and sprinted to the window.
Something was moving across the distant skyline.
At first, it just looked like a blur, like a thick, rolling wave of black fog swallowing the horizon.
But the shadows quickly took shape.
It was the infected. Hundreds, thousands of them.
A dense, suffocating swarm pouring in from every single direction. They looked like a black tide washing over the ruined streets and shattered buildings, heading straight for our safehouse.
They weren’t moving fast, but the sheer volume of them was paralyzing.
It was true despair.
“A horde!” Garrison was the first to break the silence. All the blood drained from his face.
“How is this possible?! We scouted this entire grid! There were no major clusters for ten miles!”
“Something dragged them here.” Chris’s face turned completely pale.
“A sound? A scent? Or…”
He whipped his head around and glared at me.
Every single pair of eyes in the room locked onto me.
“It was the food.” Chris’s voice was absolute poison.
“You threw that food out the window. The smell drifted. You pulled the horde right to our doorstep!”
“That is impossible.” I shot back immediately. “I sent down two sealed cans of Spam. The smell wouldn’t carry far enough to—”
“Are you seriously still denying it?!” Marcus suddenly roared. “Look at what is happening! You are still making excuses! I told everyone we couldn’t let her open that window, but she wouldn’t listen! Now look! We are all going to die in this concrete box!”
“Exactly!” Martha shrieked hysterically. “Monica, you selfish brat! You just had to play the saint, and now you’ve doomed us all!”
“I…”
“Enough.” Chris held up a hand, silencing the room. His expression turned completely ruthless.
“This isn’t the time to point fingers. We need a way out.”
He shot me one final look. It was the kind of look you give a dead body.
The text floating in my vision went completely insane.
[Oh hell yes, Chris actually yelled at his future wife! You’re gonna be groveling so hard later, bro!] [This plot is making my blood boil! The Male Lead did nothing wrong! It’s all the MC’s fault for being a stupid bleeding heart!] [Hold up. This wasn’t in the original novel… The horde was triggered by something completely different in the book… Wait, is the timeline broken?] [Bro, you just noticed? The plot derailed the exact second she refused to open the door!]
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “433756”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I dated Adrian Hunt for four years. The moment I discovered he had cheated, I broke up with him without hesitation.
But Adrian, in an attempt to win me back, knelt outside my apartment building for a full day and night, regardless of his status.
After that, He even publicly announced that he would transfer all his shares into my name. He said that if he ever betrayed me again, he would be left with nothing.
A year later, I was finally moved by him and agreed to get back together.
On our wedding day, under the fireworks, he kissed me and said, “Seraphina, you are my life. From now on, I will never let you go again.”
I believed him.
Until this charity gala night, when he brought me as his wife—and during the auction segment, I saw a girl in a white dress.
She was brought onto the stage by the host as a “special item,” being sold for her virginity.
At just one glance, Adrian’s expression changed.
Without hesitation, he immediately spent a sky-high price to buy her first night.
Seraphina POV
I’d been dating Adrian Hunt for four years. The moment I discovered his affair, I broke up with him without hesitation.
On the first day after our breakup fight, Adrian knelt outside my apartment building for a full day and night trying to win me back, regardless of his status. I turned a blind eye.
One week after the breakup, Adrian personally made my favorite strawberry mousse. I didn’t even look at it before feeding it to the dog.
One month after the breakup, Adrian won the bid for my favorite antique piano at auction. I immediately donated it to an orphanage.
After that, Adrian even publicly announced he was transferring all his shares to my name. He said if he ever let me down again, he’d be left with nothing.
A year later, I was finally moved by him and agreed to get back together.
On our wedding day, Adrian rented out every billboard in the city, displaying our photos on a loop and announcing our wedding of the century in the most high-profile way possible.
He kissed me under the fireworks and said, “Everything I have is yours now, Seraphina. You’re my life. From now on, I’ll never let you go.”
In that moment, I truly believed he would love me like his own life and never betray me again.
Until the charity gala that evening. Adrian brought me as his date, but during the auction segment, he spotted a girl in a white dress with a pale face.
She was invited on stage by the host as a “special auction item”—dinner with the highest bidder.
With just one glance, Adrian’s expression changed completely.
“Ten million.”
“Twenty million.”
“Fifty million.”
The gavel rose and fell.
Adrian’s bids grew more insane with each raise. Every time he lifted his paddle, it was with absolute determination to win.
The numbers climbed to absurd heights. Even the auctioneer started sweating.
“One hundred million! Sold!”
With the final strike of the gavel, Adrian won the “dinner date” at an astronomical price.
The entire venue was shocked.
Before the applause even died down, Adrian had already strode onto the stage. Under everyone’s gaze, he removed his suit jacket and draped it over the girl’s trembling shoulders.
“Mr. Hunt?” The host approached in surprise.
Adrian ignored him, grabbing the girl’s wrist. His voice was low. “What are you doing here? Do you know what this dinner date really means?”
“I…” Tears immediately filled the girl’s eyes. She looked pitiful. “I need money. They said if someone bid on my dinner date, they’d give me ten percent of the auction price. My mom is sick and hospitalized. I need a lot of money. I had no choice…”
Adrian’s thumb gently wiped away her tears. The gesture was so tender it was blinding. “How much do you need?”
The girl named a figure.
Without a word, Adrian signed a check and handed it to her.
The host was sharp. He immediately approached Adrian. “Mr. Hunt, what’s your relationship with this young lady…?”
“She’s my… friend.” Adrian said, his eyes never leaving the girl. “Her father saved my life.”
I stood frozen in place. The pearl clutch in my hand was about to shatter from my grip.
I recognized this girl.
A year ago, Adrian and I broke up because of her. Her name was Vivian.
Under the host’s subtly changing expression, Adrian finally remembered my existence.
“Seraphina, don’t misunderstand.” He quickly turned and came down from the stage to my side. “Her father died saving me after all. Now her mother is sick and hospitalized and needs money. I can’t let her go down the wrong path for money. You know what this dinner date really means.”
Those words were like a key, unlocking the floodgates of memory.
A year ago, when I discovered those ambiguous texts on Adrian’s phone, he said the exact same thing. “Seraphina, let me explain. Her father died saving me. I’m only taking care of her to repay that debt.”
But later, when I caught them in bed together, he explained again. “Seraphina, listen to me. Someone drugged me last night. I thought she was you.”
And now, hearing his explanation that was barely different from a year ago, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“A year ago, you took meticulous care of her, saying it was to repay a debt. Later, when you were sleeping in the same bed, you said you were drugged and mistook her for me. Now you’ve spent one hundred million on a dinner date with her, saying you don’t want her to go down the wrong path for money.” My heart was breaking. My voice trembled. “Adrian, how many more excuses do you have?”
Adrian hadn’t expected me to confront him publicly. His face darkened immediately. “Seraphina, that’s enough. Don’t make a scene here.”
“A scene?” I laughed, but my eyes grew redder. “Adrian, am I the one making a scene?”
Vivian tugged at his sleeve from behind him. Her voice was small. “Mr. Hunt, please don’t fight with Seraphina because of me…”
Adrian stepped forward, shielding her behind him. His gaze fell on me. “Whatever you want to say, we’ll discuss it at home.”
I watched Adrian protect another woman and found the whole situation absurdly laughable. “Adrian, do you remember what you said to me before?”
He said he would completely cut ties with Vivian and never betray me for another woman again.
Adrian’s expression flickered. He was about to speak, but I had already turned to leave.
“Seraphina!” He called after me.
I didn’t turn back. I just walked quickly away from the suffocating gala.
Seraphina POV
After leaving the charity auction, I drove aimlessly. By the time I came to my senses, I’d stopped by a lake near a university.
The lake surface rippled with fragmented silver light under the moon. This was where Adrian and I had our first date, our first time holding hands, our first kiss.
Adrian and I first met at a party.
At the time, I’d refused the persistent advances of a wealthy man in our circle. He’d publicly thrown a drink on me and verbally humiliated me.
Everyone knew I was the adopted daughter of the Palmer family. With the return of their biological daughter, I was no longer favored.
When no one would speak up for me, Adrian stepped forward. He punched the wealthy man to the ground and forcefully made him apologize to me.
From that moment on, I couldn’t control my feelings for him.
Adrian liked me too. He pursued me actively.
After we got together, he treated me so well. All my friends envied me.
If only there hadn’t been Vivian…
Vivian appeared two years ago.
Adrian said that when he was a teenager, he was targeted by his family’s enemies. Vivian’s father had taken a fatal knife wound for him. He owed the Whitmore family a life, so he had to take responsibility for caring for her.
At the time, I thought repaying kindness was the right thing to do.
But later, Adrian started frequently taking Vivian’s calls, even during our dates.
He remembered all of Vivian’s preferences. He knew she was allergic to mangoes, knew she was afraid of the dark, would take meticulous care of her during her period.
“Her father died for me,” Adrian would explain whenever I showed the slightest unease. “Seraphina, I have to repay this debt.”
Back then, I was foolish enough to believe that Adrian’s special treatment of Vivian was purely because she was his savior’s daughter. Despite my discomfort, I endured it.
Until a year ago, when I saw Vivian wearing my pajamas, running out of Adrian’s bedroom. Adrian still made excuses, saying he’d been drugged and mistook Vivian for me.
I thought that after that, I’d never cry for Adrian again.
But now, the tears still wouldn’t stop.
My phone vibrated repeatedly in my bag. All calls from Adrian.
I didn’t answer. Finally, I just turned it off.
At one in the morning, I finally returned to the villa.
The enormous house was empty. The festive wedding decorations hadn’t been removed yet. The bright flowers now looked particularly harsh.
I showered, buried myself under the covers, and fell into an exhausted sleep.
The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing.
I groggily answered. Before I could speak, my friend Lillian’s urgent voice exploded through the line. “Seraphina! Have you seen the news? Look now! Right now!”
“What news…” My voice was hoarse.
“Adrian and that Vivian! Their story is all over social media!”
I was instantly awake.
I hung up and opened Twitter.
I didn’t need to search. The top trending topic was #Hunt Corporation CEO Pays Fortune For Mysterious Woman’s Dinner Date#.
I clicked in. There were nine photos.
The first three were from last night’s charity auction. The rest were candid shots from various angles.
In the photos, Adrian and Vivian were having dinner at an upscale restaurant. Afterward, they left the restaurant together and got into Adrian’s car.
The car stopped in front of a five-star hotel. Adrian and Vivian walked in side by side, eventually entering a hotel suite together.
The caption was ambiguous and detailed.
[Hunt Corporation CEO Adrian Hunt paid one hundred million for mysterious woman Vivian Whitmore’s “dinner date.” After a romantic dinner, the two entered a hotel together and haven’t left as of this morning. Sources say Adrian recently married his wife Seraphina Palmer in a high-profile wedding of the century…]
The comments had exploded.
“Holy shit! One hundred million! Just for dinner? Who believes that! This obviously has deeper meaning!”
“This Vivian is really something. She can make Mr. Hunt spend that much money and abandon his newlywed wife on the spot.”
“Adrian is so handsome. Spending so much money just for Vivian’s smile. Their relationship is so touching!”
“Am I the only one who feels sorry for the wife? She was there last night, right? Watching her husband bid insanely for another woman—what kind of hellish scene is that? Their wedding billboards are still up…”
Seraphina POV
When Adrian came home, I was sitting in the dining room eating breakfast.
My expression was blank. On the tablet to my left was the entertainment news about him and Vivian.
“Seraphina, this is all false reporting. Don’t believe what these journalists make up.” A flash of panic crossed his eyes. He stepped forward quickly. “Last night, Vivian was too upset about her mother’s illness. I took her out to eat. She got drunk, so I had to send her to a hotel.”
I forced down my nausea, eating my fried egg while smiling coldly. “You sent her to the hotel, but forgot to leave yourself? You spent the night at the hotel with her?”
Adrian’s expression stiffened. I saw guilt flash across his face. “She kept crying last night. Crying and vomiting. I had no choice but to stay and take care of her. But I really didn’t touch her. Nothing happened between us.”
My gaze fell on the fresh hickey barely visible beneath his collar. I felt sick.
“Adrian,” I put down my fork and closed my eyes. “Send her away. Send her back to her own home, or to another city, or abroad—anywhere. I don’t want to see her again.”
He was silent for a few seconds. Impatience flickered across his features. “Her mother is her only family. Her mother is seriously ill and needs surgery. Sending her away now—how is that different from forcing her to her death?”
“Then let’s divorce.” I looked up. “Since you can’t bear to send her away, let’s divorce.”
“Seraphina, the same trick doesn’t work twice.” Adrian’s eyes grew darker. “The first time you threatened to break up, I was willing to humor you and let you throw your tantrum. But we’re married now. Do you think the position of Mrs. Hunt is something you can take or leave as you please?”
His tall figure loomed over me with oppressive pressure. His tone was ice cold. “The Palmer family raised you for years. They won’t hesitate to seek returns. Without me, you’re nothing but a bargaining chip for the Palmers to trade for benefits. They can marry you off to anyone at any time.”
Those words were like blades, stabbing straight into my heart.
“Wake up. Stop threatening divorce at every turn. Because this time, I might not humor you.” After saying that, he announced, “Vivian needs money. She needs a job. Starting tomorrow, she’ll join the company as my personal assistant.”
My last shred of rationality completely collapsed. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.
“Adrian, you’re disgusting.”
He turned his face to the side, running his tongue over his cheek. When he turned back, his eyes were frozen.
“Looks like we both need to cool down. I’ll stay at the office for the next few days. I won’t be coming back.”
With those words, he turned and left without hesitation.
My chest felt like someone had brutally carved out a gaping wound.
I suddenly laughed softly, my laughter full of mockery.
After a moment, I picked up my phone from the dining table and dialed a number. “Prepare a divorce agreement for me. I want a divorce.”
For several days straight, Adrian didn’t come home.
But an unfamiliar number I didn’t recognize sent me various photos almost daily.
In the photos, Adrian brought Vivian to yacht parties, accompanied Vivian to the hospital to visit her seriously ill mother, and at business receptions, wrapped his arm around her waist while introducing her to everyone.
Unable to bear it any longer, I drove directly to Hunt Corporation. Ignoring the receptionist’s attempts to stop me, I swiped my card and entered the CEO’s private elevator.
In the office area, Vivian was talking with someone.
Hearing footsteps, she looked up. “Mrs. Hunt?”
I didn’t pause. I walked up to her and slapped her across the face.
The crisp sound exploded in the silent air.
“Miss Whitmore, if Adrian wants to repay his debt and keep you by his side, I have nothing to say.” My voice was cold. “But we both know what you’re really after. As long as I haven’t signed divorce papers, you’re nothing but a mistress.”
Vivian covered her rapidly swelling cheek. Tears welled in her eyes. “Mrs. Hunt, you’ve misunderstood me. I really haven’t…”
“Seraphina!”
Seraphina POV
Adrian’s voice came from the end of the corridor.
He strode over quickly, pulled Vivian behind him, completely shielding her with his body. His gaze shot toward me like a sword.
“Seraphina, you’ve been Mrs. Hunt for what, a few days, and you’re already bullying people?” His eyes were full of suppressed fury. “Do I need to remind you what happened at that party years ago? How someone publicly threw a drink on you and said those terrible things?”
My face went deathly pale. Something gripped my heart violently.
That party—he’d been the one who stepped up for me, forcing that wealthy man to apologize by stepping on him.
But now, this same person who’d pulled me out of humiliation was personally dredging up my most shameful past and spreading it out in front of everyone.
Adrian’s tone was harsh. “It seems I’ve spoiled you too much all these years, making you forget that you’re just the Palmer family’s adopted daughter who’s fallen out of favor. You’ve experienced plenty of bullying and humiliation yourself.”
“Go home.” His command was absolute. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.”
I couldn’t believe it. I pointed at Vivian behind him. “You’re going to make me suffer for this woman?”
“I just want you to understand—don’t forget what you’ve been through. Don’t think that just because you’re Mrs. Hunt now, you can abuse your power.”
Beside us, Vivian tugged at his sleeve, her voice weak and uncertain. “Mr. Hunt, forget it. The punishment you’re giving her is too severe. Please don’t fight with Mrs. Hunt because of me. I’m fine now… see, my face doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
On her pale face, the five-finger mark was vivid. Adrian must already be heartbroken.
“She must receive this punishment.” He looked back at me with dark, sinister eyes. “As Mrs. Hunt, you should be magnanimous and gracious, not running to the office like a madwoman to hit people.”
I’m like a madwoman?
I was so shocked I almost laughed.
I pressed my lips together coldly. “What if I refuse this punishment?”
His voice was harsh. “Seraphina, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
The atmosphere froze.
Just as we were at an impasse, suddenly Vivian let out a weak moan. Her body swayed and she collapsed backward.
“Vivian!”
Adrian’s expression changed. He reached out to catch her.
Vivian lay unconscious in his arms.
Adrian lifted her in his arms. When he looked at me again, his eyes were filled with uncontrollable fury. “You’d better pray nothing’s wrong with her. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you.”
He didn’t spare me another glance. Carrying Vivian, he strode quickly toward the elevator.
I stood there, feeling everyone’s stares. My heart felt like someone had twisted a knife in it several times. The last bit of light in my eyes went out.
I took the elevator down. The moment I walked out of the company entrance, two bodyguards in black suits grabbed me from both sides.
“Mrs. Hunt, we apologize. Mr. Hunt has instructed us to take you home for punishment.”
I struggled, but it was useless.
I was shoved into a car. The car drove toward the suburbs, finally stopping in front of the Hunt family villa.
The bodyguards pulled me out of the car and dragged me to the gravel area in front of the villa.
“Kneel, Mrs. Hunt.”
I straightened my spine stubbornly. “I did nothing wrong. I won’t kneel!”
The two bodyguards exchanged glances. Then one of them kicked directly at the back of my knee.
Caught off guard, my legs gave way and I fell heavily onto the gravel-covered ground.
Excruciating pain immediately shot through my knees.
I screamed, gasping. Cold sweat instantly beaded on my forehead.
I struggled to get up, but the two bodyguards pressed firmly on my shoulders, forcing me back down. “Mr. Hunt has ordered that you must kneel for a full twenty-four hours. You’re not allowed to get up.”
His punishment for me was to kneel on the villa’s gravel for a full twenty-four hours of repentance before it would be over.
But on our wedding night, Adrian had held me in his arms and said he’d never let me suffer in this lifetime.
Adrian, your words truly can’t be trusted at all.
But I’d been too foolish before. I’d believed him again and again.
Seraphina POV
After dark, Adrian came to the villa. His tall figure stood before me, looking down at me from above.
“Vivian woke up.” His face was cold as a frozen pond. “The doctor diagnosed her with a mild concussion and post-traumatic stress disorder.”
I’d been kneeling until both my knees hurt terribly. Blood had seeped through my knees, staining the gravel beneath them red.
My vision kept going black. Cold sweat had long since soaked my hair.
But he showed no sympathy. He just looked at me. “I know you’re very dissatisfied with her, but no matter how dissatisfied you are, you shouldn’t have gone to the office to hit her.”
I finally raised my eyelids. “Don’t you know exactly why I hit her?”
If he hadn’t brought Vivian to those places, if Vivian hadn’t used an unknown number to send me those provocative photos, if they hadn’t treated me—his wife—with such disregard, would I have struck her?
My eyes reddened. My throat felt tight and choked. “Adrian, I have no problem with you repaying your debt. But you slept with her. Don’t you find that laughable? If you want to repay your debt, why does it have to be by trampling on my feelings and our marriage?”
“I told you, a year ago with her—we were drugged. It was an accident. I didn’t lie to you.”
“What about now? Her mother is seriously ill and needs money. You’ve already given her a check. Why do you still need to keep her by your side?”
His voice was low and hoarse. “Because that night a year ago, she got pregnant with my child.”
My breathing stopped for an instant.
“Back then, you were threatening to break up with me. To get you back, I had no choice but to cut ties with her.”
Adrian’s voice carried a pain I’d never heard before.
He said, “While I was kneeling to beg you to come back, while I was personally making the cake you love, while I was announcing to reporters that I was transferring my shares to you and publicly winning you back—during all that time, she was alone, caring for her sick mother while constantly working to earn money. Eventually, from overwork, she miscarried the baby and fell into depression for a long time.”
In this moment, he felt like a complete stranger.
I moved my lips. My voice was hoarse. “What are you trying to say—that her miscarriage and depression are my fault?”
“If you hadn’t insisted on breaking up, I wouldn’t have ignored her and cut ties with her. She wouldn’t have…” He stopped, looking at me deeply. “I owe the Whitmore family a life. And you caused her to lose a child.”
He said, “Seraphina, you’re the one who wronged her.”
Absurd.
This was the most absurd, laughable thing I’d ever heard.
“Kneel here properly. After you complete the full twenty-four hours, I’ll come pick you up.” Before Adrian turned to leave, he coldly instructed the bodyguards nearby. “Watch her.”
“Yes, sir.”
In that moment, I couldn’t tell which hurt more—my knees or my heart.
I was forced to kneel in front of the villa for a long time, the bodyguards pressing down on my shoulders.
Around midnight, thunder suddenly crashed and lightning flashed. Strong winds rose and a torrential downpour fell.
The two bodyguards opened umbrellas, but didn’t shield me.
I knelt on the gravel. The blood from my knees wouldn’t stop flowing. I was forced to endure the rainstorm all night.
Whenever I was about to collapse and my body swayed, the bodyguards would press firmly on my shoulders, forcing me to correct my posture.
At dawn, the alternating sensations of cold and heat throughout my body finally became unbearable. I lost consciousness and collapsed to the side.
When I woke again, it was to the smell of disinfectant.
I opened my heavy eyelids to the white ceiling of a hospital.
An IV drip was attached to the back of my hand.
“You’re awake.”
Adrian’s voice came from beside the bed.
I turned my head and saw him sitting there. His eyes were bloodshot, a shadow of stubble on his chin.
“You had a fever of 104 degrees. Why didn’t you tell the bodyguards you were sick? The doctor said if you’d come any later…”
He reached out to touch my face, but I avoided it. “Don’t touch me.”
Adrian froze. He withdrew his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. “Seraphina, stop making trouble from now on, okay? We already owe Vivian too much.”
His appearance made me feel sick.
My throat was dry and hoarse. My laugh was desolate. “Adrian, you’re the one who owes her. Not me.”
Seraphina POV
I continued mockingly, “Since you feel you owe Vivian so much, let’s divorce and you can marry her.”
Adrian’s expression instantly darkened. “Must you keep causing trouble like this? Vivian just wants a job to live properly and earn money to care for her sick mother. I simply gave her a job. Why do you hate her so much?”
“I don’t hate her,” I said expressionlessly. “As long as you sign divorce papers with me right now, I don’t care what you do with her. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Adrian’s pupils contracted sharply, as if this statement had struck a nerve.
He suddenly leaned forward, hands braced on either side of my body, trapping me between the hospital bed and his chest. “Seraphina, between us, it’s always breaking up or divorce. Have you ever actually loved me?”
This question almost made me laugh out loud.
He was actually asking if I’d ever loved him?
“Let me tell you, Seraphina—divorce? Don’t even think about it.” Adrian gritted his teeth. “In this lifetime, even in death, you can only be Mrs. Hunt!”
As soon as he finished speaking, his phone rang in his pocket.
Adrian frowned, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. It was Vivian calling.
He hesitated, but still answered in front of me.
The moment the call connected, Vivian’s panicked voice came through. “Is this the police? I’m… I’m being harassed. I’m so scared…”
“Vivian?” Adrian’s expression darkened. “It’s me. Who’s harassing you?”
The other end went quiet for a second. Then came Vivian’s tearful, startled voice. “Mr. Hunt? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was too scared. I called the wrong number…”
“Tell me, who’s harassing you? Where are you now?” Adrian’s tone grew urgent.
“I’m… I’m at Golden Moon Club… for the company’s South District project… but Mr. Watson was touching me inappropriately…”
Vivian’s voice was broken and intermittent, mixed with sobs.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m on my way!”
Before Vivian could finish, Adrian had already hung up. He didn’t even look at me again. He turned and strode quickly out of the hospital room, his entire body tense with anxiety.
I watched his retreating back. The warmth in my eyes disappeared completely.
This marriage—no matter what, I had to end it.
I stayed in the hospital for several days. During that time, Adrian didn’t appear again.
But that unknown number kept persistently sending messages.
[Do you know? Ever since I told him a client harassed me that day, he not only taught that person a lesson but also canceled the cooperation with them. He’s even worried I’ll be harassed again, so now he personally drives me to and from work every day.]
After my fever completely broke and the wounds on my knees began to scab over, I checked myself out of the hospital and finally replied to that unknown number.
[If you want what you’re after, meet me at the café near Hunt Corporation in one hour.]
One hour later, at the café.
When I arrived, Vivian was already sitting there.
I sat across from her, ordered a glass of water, then pushed a thick manila envelope across the table toward her.
Vivian looked at me. “What’s this…?”
“My divorce agreement with Adrian.”
At those words, surprise mixed with a hint of secret joy flashed in Vivian’s eyes.
But then she looked confused. “What do you mean by this?”
I said coldly, “Don’t you want to be Mrs. Hunt? I’m divorcing Adrian. I’m giving you a chance.”
Vivian hastily put on an aggrieved expression. “Mrs. Hunt, you’ve really misunderstood me. Mr. Hunt and I…”
“Enough, Vivian. There are only the two of us here. You don’t need to perform for me.” My eyes were cold. “You’ve found every way to cling to Adrian’s side. We both know what you’re really after.”
Vivian looked me over, suspicious. “How do I know you’re not recording this?”
Worthy of being the woman who’d manipulated Adrian—her vigilance was strong enough.
“Don’t worry. If I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t have waited until now.” My expression was blank. “A man who’s been physically and emotionally unfaithful isn’t worth me exhausting myself to keep by my side.”
Vivian studied me skeptically, saying nothing.
I continued, “I’ve mentioned divorce to him. He refuses. If you want what you’re after, make him sign this divorce agreement.”
I’d prepared this divorce agreement long ago, but I could never find an opportunity to get Adrian to sign it.
Adrian wouldn’t agree to divorce me. I had no choice but to come to Vivian.
I’d thought Vivian would readily agree.
Vivian scoffed mockingly. “Don’t be ridiculous. He transferred most of his shares to you. If you divorce, he’d essentially be leaving with nothing. I’m not that stupid. I won’t make him sign something like this.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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