Category: English

The moment Miranda Simon smashed my birthday cake, I realized our five-year marriage was nothing more than a well-rehearsed punchline. The cake—a custom order my family had sent over—lay in a heap on the hardwood floor. Vanilla sponge and fresh strawberries were smeared across the grain like a crime scene. Miranda didn’t look at the mess. She didn’t look at me with anything but a cold, sharpened edge of resentment. “Did you seriously forget what day it is?” she asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous low. “It’s the anniversary of Beck’s mother’s passing. And you’re standing here worried about a damn cake?” The words felt like a serrated blade to the chest. Every birthday for the last five years flashed before my eyes—each one spent in a state of forced mourning, a heavy silence dictated by her. My birthday happened to fall on the anniversary of the day Beck’s mother died. Beck was her “soulmate” of a best friend, the boy-next-door she had grown up with. Because of that coincidence, my birthday was a forbidden subject. No celebrations, no decorations, not even a stray smile. When friends asked why we never threw a party, I’d offer a tight, practiced shrug and say, “Maybe next year.” But “next year” was a ghost that never arrived. Driven by a sudden, hollow impulse, I followed her to the memorial garden. I watched from a distance as she stood by the headstone, listening to the whispers of the gathered mourners. They called her “the daughter the deceased never had,” and “the rock Beck leans on.” She was the “perfect woman” in everyone’s eyes. Standing there, watching her play the role of Beck’s grieving partner, I felt a bone-deep exhaustion settle over me. I walked up to her, the grass crunching beneath my shoes. Without a word, I slid the wedding band off my finger. “Miranda,” I said, my voice steady for the first time in years. “I want a divorce.” … Miranda froze for a second, her eyes flickering with a momentary shock before settling back into a familiar, jagged impatience. “You’re really doing this? Because of a stupid cake, you’re making a scene at a cemetery? This isn’t the place for your tantrums, Jude.” “I’m serious,” I said, each word deliberate. “I’m leaving you.” Realizing I wasn’t backing down, the mask of the grieving socialite began to crack. The small crowd of mourners went silent, their eyes darting between us. In a swift, protective motion, Miranda stepped in front of Beck, shielding him. She swung her hand, knocking the ring out of my palm. It vanished into the tall grass. She gave me a look of pure, filtered condescension. “Is this what this is? A pathetic display of territory? You’re jealous because I’m here for Beck’s mother? I told you, Jude—show some respect for the dead.” Respect for the dead. That was her mantra. Every year on my birthday, there were no sunflowers—my favorite. Only endless wreaths of white chrysanthemums. No dinner reservations, only memorial offerings. No “Happy Birthday,” no warmth. Whenever my own mother called to wish me a happy birthday, I had to retreat to the bathroom and whisper my thanks in the dark, as if celebrating my own life was a sin I had to hide. It never occurred to her that I owed no debt of mourning to her best friend’s family. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words felt stuck in my throat, choked by years of silence. Seeing my hesitation, Miranda’s tone softened, though it was the kind of softness used for a disobedient child. She held out a small bouquet of daisies. “Just admit you’re wrong and we can go home. I’ll make it up to you later this week. Since you’re here, the least you can do is pay your respects. She was always kind to you.” A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. Everyone in our circle knew the truth: Beck’s mother had loathed me. She saw me as an intruder in the “perfect” life her son and Miranda were supposed to share. Miranda knew better than anyone that the woman had once purposefully fed me something she knew I was allergic to, sending me to the ER just so she could have a “family night” alone with her son and Miranda. I dropped the daisies onto the dirt. A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Miranda’s eyes went dark, her patience finally snapping. “Jude Holloway, that is enough!” She lashed out with her foot, kicking a small, decorative brass brazier nearby. The hot coals spilled out, several of them landing directly on my calf. The heat seared through my trousers, and I felt the skin blister instantly. I doubled over, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead as the sharp, throbbing pain radiated up my leg. Miranda’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but the disgust in her eyes didn’t waver. “Beck is starting at the firm tomorrow. He’s overwhelmed. You’re going to train him. And if you can’t handle that, you can pack your desk and get out of my company.” Her gaze fell on the employee ID badge clipped to my belt—a job I had worked eighty-hour weeks to excel at. It was a threat, plain and simple. I pressed my lips together and forced a nod. “Fine.” A flash of confusion crossed her face, but before she could speak, Beck pulled at her sleeve, whispering about the service. She turned her back on me, her hand resting protectively on his shoulder. I walked out of the cemetery, my leg screaming in pain, and dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. “I need a divorce lawyer. Have the papers ready by tomorrow.” Miranda didn’t come home that night. She was never one for social media, claiming it was beneath her, yet she posted three separate, long-winded tributes to Beck’s mother. Beck’s comment was pinned at the top: Miranda, having you here to talk through the night… I know Mom is looking down from Heaven and smiling at us. I sat alone in our dark kitchen and lit a single candle on a grocery-store cupcake. I made a wish. For the first time in five years, it wasn’t for her to love me back. It was for the strength to never look back. The next morning, the sound of crashing and laughter from downstairs jolted me awake. When I walked into the kitchen, the house looked like a disaster zone. The dining table was covered in blue frosting. Half-eaten cake was everywhere, and balloons were taped haphazardly to the walls. Across a banner draped over the fireplace were the words: Happy Birthday, Beck. My stomach turned. Of course. It wasn’t just his mother’s death anniversary; it was his birthday, too. For five years, Miranda could always find the time to celebrate him. She could drop everything for his birthday, his “promotion” parties, even the anniversary of the first time they’d met. Miranda walked out of the study, seeing my expression. She didn’t look guilty. “Beck was a mess after you pulled that stunt at the cemetery,” she said, pouring herself a coffee. “I let him bring a few people over to cheer him up.” When I didn’t respond, she sighed, her tone shifting to an annoyed defense. “If it bothers you that much, I guess next year we can—” “It doesn’t bother me,” I interrupted. She blinked, startled by the lack of fire in my voice. “Don’t lie. You’ve always hated having Beck in the house.” It was true. Beck used to find every excuse to stay over, sometimes even crashing in our guest room for weeks on end. I had spent years screaming, pleading, and fighting to keep our home private. But that was when I still cared about what happened within these walls. Now, she could invite the whole city for all I cared. My phone chimed incessantly. The company group chat was exploding. Beck is a genius! That marketing strategy he presented this morning was incredible! Not surprised, he’s been Miranda’s right hand forever. Excellence is contagious! Beck, you’re buying the first round of drinks tonight! I opened the file attached to the messages. My blood ran cold. Every word, every data point, every creative hook—it was the project I had spent the last three months building. Miranda followed my gaze to the screen. She spoke with a breezy nonchalance that made me feel sick. “Beck was under a lot of pressure starting today. I gave him your project to present so he could get a win under his belt. You’re talented, Jude. You can just come up with another one.” I looked at her, truly looked at her. I remembered the nights I’d spent in the office until 2:00 AM, the red-rimmed eyes, the missed dinners. She had seen all of it. And she had handed it to him like it was nothing but a scrap of paper. “There’s one more thing,” Miranda said, her voice dropping into that low, executive tone. “Beck likes your family’s plot at the hillside cemetery. His spiritual advisor said the feng shui is perfect for his mother’s re-interment. Consider it your apology for yesterday.” I stared at her, certain I had misheard. “Are you insane? That’s where my father is buried. The plot next to him is for my mother.” My father’s dying wish had been to be buried next to my mother. He’d spent years scouting locations before they found that specific hillside. Miranda’s face hardened. “It’s a piece of land, Jude. You humiliated Beck yesterday. This is how you make it right.” “Absolutely not,” I said, my voice trembling with rage. Miranda didn’t argue. She simply reached into her bag and tossed a stack of medical bills onto the coffee table. “Your mother’s private care is being funded by my accounts. Is a piece of dirt more important than the woman currently breathing because of my money?” The world seemed to tilt. The roar in my ears was deafening. I thought of my mother, frail and fading in that hospital bed, and the weight of the debt crushed the air from my lungs. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Fine. Take it. I’ll move my father’s remains tomorrow.” Miranda’s expression softened into a terrifyingly smug satisfaction. She finally noticed the suitcase tucked into the corner of the hallway. “Where are you going?” “A business trip,” I lied, my voice hollow. “Internal audit.” I turned and walked upstairs. I didn’t need to look back to know she was already texting Beck the good news. The next day, under a gray, overcast sky, Miranda and Beck arrived at the cemetery for the “transfer.” A small crowd of their social circle had gathered, whispering as I arrived. “There he is. The man who can’t even celebrate a birthday or let his father rest in peace.” “Beck and Miranda are so much more suited for each other. They’re a power couple.” “It’s only a matter of time before Jude is out of the picture entirely.” I clenched my fists, watching as the excavators began to move the earth over my father’s grave. Beck stood there like a victor, a sympathetic but oily smile on his face. “Jude, man,” Beck whispered, leaning in and gripping my arm tight enough to bruise. “I just mentioned the view once. I had no idea Miranda would go this far. You’re not mad, are you?” I jerked my arm away, my eyes locked on the casket being hoisted from the ground. The shame was a physical weight, a suffocating heat in my chest. As the workers moved to transfer the remains, Beck stepped forward. “Let me help with the urn…” He reached out, his hands slick and uncoordinated. The urn slipped. He let out a sharp, theatrical gasp. “Oh my god! Jude, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to help—” The urn hit the stone path and shattered. My father’s ashes scattered into the mud, caught in the damp wind. I began to shake. My vision went red. Before I knew what I was doing, my fist was flying toward Beck’s face. But Miranda was faster. She stepped between us and slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side. “Are you insane?!” she screamed. “You’re going to assault someone in a cemetery?” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I was past the point of reason. Suddenly, Beck dropped to his knees in front of Miranda, his face a mask of trembling fear. “Miranda, please, I didn’t mean it… but I have to tell you. The reason I wanted to move my mom here wasn’t just the view. Jude’s been hiring people to vandalize her old grave. They’ve been throwing trash, painting slurs… I couldn’t take it anymore.” Miranda turned to me, her eyes filled with a profound, icy disappointment. “Jude. I didn’t think even you could sink this low.” I leaned against the stone wall of a nearby crypt just to stay upright. “You want to talk about low?” I rasped. “Then let’s talk about the divorce.” I pulled the papers from my jacket and threw them at her feet. She looked at the bold heading on the first page and recoiled. “You’re really doing this?” she hissed. “Fine. Get out. Within three days, you’ll be crawling back, begging for a check to pay your mother’s hospital bills. We’ll see how long your pride lasts then.” She signed the papers with a flourish, grabbed Beck’s hand, and stormed off. I collapsed to my knees, my fingers trembling as I tried to scoop what was left of my father’s ashes from the dirt. I felt like a ghost inhabiting a dead man’s body. As the crowd dispersed, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Mr. Holloway? Your mother has taken a turn for the worse. She needs emergency surgery immediately, but your primary insurance and the linked credit cards have been frozen.” I felt the blood drain from my face. Miranda always kept the accounts topped up. She wouldn’t… I called the company’s CFO. He sounded hesitant, pitying. “Jude, I’m sorry. Miranda gave Beck power of attorney over your personal accounts this morning. She said you needed to ‘learn some perspective’ before your access is restored.” The phone slipped through my fingers. I didn’t think. I drove straight to the office, my body vibrating with a primal, desperate terror. I burst into the lobby and ran to Beck’s new corner office. “Give me my cards,” I choked out, my voice failing me. “I need the money. It’s for my mother.” Miranda stepped out of the adjacent conference room and shoved me back with a force that sent me stumbling into the glass partition. “You’re hovering over him like a predator, Jude! You’re scaring him!” “My mother is dying!” I screamed, my voice raw. “She needs the surgery now!” “Enough!” Miranda yelled. “You think I’m stupid? You’re using your dying mother to scam me for money so you can hire more people to harass Beck. She’s in the best hospital in the state; she’s fine. I’m not rewarding your lies anymore.” I looked into her eyes. The woman who had once promised to build a world with me was gone. In her place was a stranger, cold and blinded by a lie she chose to believe. Miranda signaled for security. “Get him out of here.” I spent the next hour frantically calling everyone I knew. The cruelty of Miranda Simon ran deeper than I imagined. “Jude, I’d love to help, but I’m a little tight this month…” “Sorry, man, Miranda already called. She said if any of us lend you money, we’re blacklisted from the Simon contracts.” “I can’t, Jude. She’s my boss.” I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. When I finally made it back to the hospital, I looked at my mother’s pale, translucent skin and pulled the heavy gold signet ring from my finger—my father’s heirloom, the only thing Miranda had ever given me that I valued. “Please,” I begged the administrator. “This is solid gold. It’s worth at least fifty thousand. Just start the prep for surgery.” The man took the ring, looked at it for three seconds, and handed it back with a look of profound pity. “Mr. Holloway… this is gold-plated iron. It’s a costume piece. It’s worth maybe fifty dollars.” The sound the ring made as it hit the floor was hollow. Miranda had given it to me on my birthday last year. I had cherished it, believing it was a sign that I finally meant something to her. I sat by my mother’s bed and watched the monitor flatline. The silence that followed was the loudest thing I’d ever heard. Five minutes after her heart stopped, my phone buzzed. A notification: Fifty thousand dollars deposited into your account. A text from Miranda followed: I might have been too harsh. I just didn’t want you hurting Beck. Use this for whatever ’emergency’ you’ve cooked up. I’ve set up a birthday dinner at the house tonight. Consider it an olive branch. I didn’t reply. I picked up a candle from the bedside table, struck a match, and watched the flame dance. Miranda, your hollow love isn’t worth saving anymore. At the house, Miranda paced the dining room, glancing at her phone. The table was set for two. “Where is he?” she snapped at her assistant. “Find him.” The assistant’s phone chirped. His face went ghostly white. “Miranda… look at the news. There’s a video. Your husband’s mother’s hospital wing… it’s on fire.”

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The blue light of my phone cut through the darkness of the office. It was a text from Rachel. Just a reminder to pay the electric bill and the water. I swiped the notification and opened my banking app, scrolling through the autopay history. For six years, this had been our rhythm. Rent, utilities, HOA fees, the parking pass for her SUV—it all came out of my account. Rachel venmoed me fifteen hundred dollars every month. “For the groceries,” she’d say, always with a kiss on the cheek. She told me work was draining, that she was grinding so she could save every penny for us. She promised that one day, she’d be the one to take care of me, to buy us the house with the wraparound porch, to give me the stability I’d never had. My mind drifted back to a post I’d seen on my feed earlier that afternoon. Some guy was bragging about his “Queen.” He posted screenshots of her monthly transfers—forty thousand dollars a month, labeled Wedding Fund. He wrote about how she never hesitated to spend on him, how she was always there when he called, how she provided a “safety net” that made him feel invincible. The comments were a sea of heart-eyes and “goals.” I had stared at that post until my eyes burned. Because the girl in the profile picture, the one he called his “Queen,” was Rachel. It was a secondary account I wasn’t supposed to know about. And her post-tax salary? It was exactly forty-five thousand a month. With fingers that wouldn’t stop shaking, I sent the guy a DM. Do you know your girlfriend has another boyfriend? … I waited for hours. Silence. Then, thirty minutes later, the guy posted an update. They were at Disneyland. Under the neon glow of the fireworks, I saw the silhouette of a woman’s face—that sharp, elegant profile I knew better than my own. Even in the blurry light, the way she looked at him was unmistakable. It was a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. The air left my lungs in a sharp wheeze. He was sharing tips on the best rides, his captions dripping with the smug happiness of a man who knows he is deeply, securely loved. “So sweet,” the comments read. “A match made in heaven.” I shut off the screen. The office was silent, save for the hum of the HVAC. The spreadsheet on my monitor blurred into a mess of meaningless numbers. When I finally got home, Rachel was waiting. She took my bag like she always did and pointed toward the kitchen, where a bowl of carbonara sat steaming on the table. “You look exhausted, Daniel,” she said softly. “Eat. You need the energy.” It was her ritual. Whenever I pulled a late shift, she made sure there was a hot meal waiting. It was the kind of domestic grace that had kept me hooked for a decade. I sat down and stirred the pasta, the steam rising to meet my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a bite. Rachel didn’t notice. She was busy zipping up a suitcase. “Company’s sending me to Sedona for three days,” she said, her back to me. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?” I froze. I looked at her, my throat feeling like it was lined with glass. “Sedona?” In the post I’d seen earlier, the guy mentioned he’d been feeling down, so his “girl” had booked a three-day retreat in Arizona to help him clear his head. Rachel’s shoulders stiffened for a fraction of a second. She turned around, a bright, practiced smile plastered on her face. “Yeah. Just a boring retreat. I’ll be back before you know it.” I nodded slowly. I set the fork down. “Rachel, let’s get married. For real. This year.” A flash of something—was it pity?—crossed her eyes. She sat beside me and pinched my cheek, the way she might a child’s. “Patience, babe. Just a little longer. I’m looking at listings. We need the perfect spot first.” Just a little longer. It was always the same refrain. I thought about the guy’s posts. Rachel hadn’t just given him “security”; she’d bought him a sixty-thousand-dollar condo downtown as “pre-marital property” in his name only. A few months later, a brand new Audi appeared in his driveway. [Shoutout to my girl’s year-end bonus. Debt-free and driving in style,] the caption had read. Every memory of our life together started to reformat itself, like a corrupted hard drive. When I’d mentioned wanting a dog, Rachel had laughed and said we were too busy, that it wouldn’t be fair to the animal. Then I saw the picture of the Ragdoll kitten she’d bought for Joey. When I wanted to try that new Michelin-star place, she’d claimed she was buried in paperwork. The next day, she’d rented a suite of camera gear to help Joey shoot his “lifestyle” content. She didn’t lack time. She didn’t lack money. She just didn’t want to spend either of them on me. I pushed the bowl away and walked into the bedroom without a word. The next morning, Rachel kissed my forehead while I pretended to sleep. “Love you, Danny. See you soon.” The door clicked shut, the wheels of her suitcase rattling down the hallway. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. My phone buzzed. The reply I’d waited for all night finally arrived. [I know she has a boyfriend,] Joey wrote. [You’re the high school sweetheart, right? The one she’s been with for ten years.] I sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs. Before I could type a response, he sent a photo. It was the two of them, fingers interlaced, cheeks pressed together, grinning like they’d just won the lottery. [Rachel says she’s been bored with you for years,] the text continued. [The only reason she hasn’t dumped you is she’s afraid you’ll spiral again. Something about your history with depression? She didn’t want your blood on her hands.] [Look, I didn’t know about you at first. But when she told me, I realized I could wait. I’m not looking for trouble. This arrangement works for all three of us, doesn’t it?] I gripped the phone so hard the edges dug into my palm. Every word felt like a physical blow, a heavy stone dropped into the pit of my stomach until I was nothing but bruised, hollowed-out meat. I went through the motions of the day. Shower, coffee, commute. At noon, a delivery driver arrived at my desk with a bag from my favorite deli. Rachel. She knew I’d forget to eat when I was stressed, so she ordered for me every single day. The note was the same as always: No onions, extra pickles. Eat up, I’m watching you! Love, R. She sent a “landed safely” text right after. I stared at the sandwich until the bread got soggy. I had no appetite. I walked down to the park and sat on a bench. A group of college students walked by, laughing, oblivious. I thought about the girl who had saved me. Rachel had been my hero when we were seventeen. When the bullies at school had put glue on my chair, she was the one who stood up for the entire period so I could have hers. When they’d spray-painted slurs on my locker, she’d given me her oversized hoodie to hide my shaking frame. When someone poured a tray of cafeteria food over my head, she’d been the one to swing first, landing herself in detention while I sat in the nurse’s office. I’d cried and asked her why she cared. She had cupped my face with hands that smelled like cheap perfume and pencil lead. “Daniel,” she had said, her eyes like a calm lake. “You aren’t what they say you are. Your mother’s mistakes aren’t yours to carry.” She’d looked at the faint, silver lines on my wrists—scars I’d made in the dark—and whispered, “Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself again. I’m here now.” Those words had been my anchor. My mother had been the “other woman” in a high-profile scandal that had left us pariahs in our small town. I was used to the whispers, the disgust. I was ready to let go of everything. But Rachel had been the light that caught me in freefall. I walked back to the office, ten years of memories churning in my gut. And then, the anchor snapped. [Rachel says she’s been bored with you for years.] The screech of tires hit my ears before the impact hit my body. I was on the ground before I realized I’d walked into the street. My head was ringing. Everything was white. My first instinct—my only instinct—was to call her. It went to voicemail. The driver was out of the car, frantic, checking my pulse, but I was in a cold, dark dream. The mechanical voice telling me the “user was busy” was the final shove into the abyss. I started texting Joey. I was manic, the words spilling out in a flood of grief. [What is she doing? Why isn’t she answering?] [How could you take her from me?] [Give her back. Just give her back!] [You’re a homewrecker. Do you have any shame at all?] I sobbed into the screen, my hot tears blurring the glass as I curled into a ball on the asphalt. Hours later, the phone rang. Rachel’s voice was sharp, vibrating with a cold, jagged anger I’d never heard before. “Daniel, enough! Why are you harassing Joey? Stop acting like a lunatic!” Rachel took the first flight back. But she didn’t come alone. Joey stood in my living room, looking exactly like his photos—young, soft-featured, and terrified. Rachel held his hand, standing in front of him in a defensive stance, guarding him from me. “Now that you know, there’s no point in lying,” she said. Her voice was flat. No guilt. No apology. She looked at him as if he were her true North. “I love Joey, Daniel. It’s that simple.” It was a haunting echo of high school. When people used to mock her for hanging around the “freak,” she’d admit she loved me just as boldly. Yeah, I like Daniel. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. “But you said…” my voice was a raspy ghost of itself. “You said I was the only one. You said ‘forever’ every morning.” Those vows had been the bricks of my house. I thought I was living in a fortress; I didn’t realize it was a cardboard box in the rain. Joey let out a small, nervous laugh. “Dude, how can you be this naive?” Rachel’s lips curled into a faint, weary smile. “Daniel, I did love you. At the time. But what I feel for Joey… it’s real. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him.” The tears came again, hot and stinging against the scrapes on my arms from the accident. I grabbed a glass from the coffee table and hurled it at them. “You’re disgusting! Get out! Both of you!” Joey shrieked and dove behind her. Rachel didn’t flinch. She just stared at me with a look of pure, unadulterated venom. “Yeah, we’re the ‘bad guys,’” she spat. “But are we really any worse than your mother? The woman who couldn’t stay out of married men’s beds? You’re her son, Daniel. Don’t act like you’re some saint. I love Joey because we have a connection. Your mother did it for a paycheck. So don’t you dare look down on us.” The room seemed to tilt. The roar in my ears was deafening. “Joey’s parents are decent people,” she continued, her words cutting like a serrated blade. “Not like yours. You’re broken, Daniel. You’re a mess, and you’ve always been a mess. You’re unstable. You’re a freak!” She led him out, slamming the door so hard the frames on the wall rattled. I sank to the floor. The sun went down, and the shadows stretched across the room like reaching fingers. I tried to stand up to find the light switch, but I tripped over the coffee table, landing hard on the shards of the broken glass. The pain in my palms was sharp and hot. I watched the blood bloom across my skin, but I didn’t move. The old Rachel… she used to say my mother’s sins weren’t mine. She used to say she’d be my shield. The girl who had once stood between me and the world was now the one holding the sword. I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to hide my wounds from the empty room. A few days later, Rachel came back. Alone. I woke up to the smell of lemon pledge and chicken soup. The apartment was spotless. A vase of fresh lilies sat on the dining table. Rachel was standing there, ladling soup into a bowl. She sat on the edge of the bed and blew on a spoonful, offering it to me. “Look at you,” she whispered, her voice thick with performative pity. “You can’t even function without me.” I turned my head away. She sighed and stroked my hair. “Daniel, stop. Your boss called me. He said you haven’t been in for three days. When I walked in, the place smelled like a brewery and old takeout. I talked to Joey. He’s going to stay at a hotel for a while. You just need to rest.” Her voice was so soft, but when she said Joey’s name, there was a spark of something—a lingering sweetness—she couldn’t hide. It was the same tone she’d used when she talked about me in college. I remembered how she’d take the train for six hours just to see me for twenty minutes between my exams because she didn’t want me to feel lonely. Everyone knew Rachel belonged to Daniel. I just didn’t realize how short “forever” was. “Daniel, I’m sorry about how it happened. Just… don’t be mean to Joey anymore. He’s been through enough.” She was begging me. Begging me not to hurt the boy she loved. I let out a hollow, bitter laugh. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. She checked it instantly. She gave me a quick, distracted pat on the shoulder and hurried out the door. I dragged myself out of bed and went to the window. Down in the parking lot, Joey—dressed in a designer jacket I’d probably paid for—jumped into her arms. They clung to each other like they were the only two people left on earth. I opened my phone and looked at the messages Joey had been sending me all week. She fell for me the second she saw me. She’d die for me. I’m a nice guy, Daniel. I’ll wait for you to get your head straight so you can break up with her peacefully. I don’t mind sharing her for a bit. I’m generous like that. He’d sent me screenshots of the bank transfers. Photos of them on vacation. A list of the gifts she’d bought him. Rachel loved with her whole heart; she just had a different heart now. A notification popped up. Today is your 10th Anniversary. Rachel wasn’t coming home for it. Joey had already told me that today was also their six-month anniversary. The irony was so thick I could taste it. I went into the bathroom and looked at the stranger in the mirror. I showered. I shaved. I put on a clean suit. I replied to my boss and my colleagues. Then, I started packing. By the time night fell, the apartment was a tomb. Joey sent one last video. It was a minute long. A hotel room. The sound of heavy breathing, of skin on skin, of Rachel whispering things to him she used to whisper to me. [You’re too fragile, man,] the text read. [I’m the one she wants. Stop being the pathetic ex. Take a hint.] I felt a wave of nausea so violent I nearly gagged. I blocked him. Rachel had been the sun in my world. I didn’t realize that when the sun goes out, it only takes a second for everything to freeze. I zipped my last suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. Two days later, Rachel returned to a silent home. She walked through the rooms, a strange, creeping dread settling in her bones. On the mirror in the entryway, there was a single Post-it note. [Ten years. I’m gifting them back to you.]

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In the most exclusive high-stakes lounge in Manhattan, I became Sean’s collateral. He pushed me across the velvet-covered table like a stack of plastic chips, all for a chance to spend a single night with Isabella—the club’s most elusive and legendary “Diamond Girl.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, my face drained of color. Sean merely patted my hand, his voice dripping with a terrifying, arrogant confidence. He told me that everyone in the city knew I was his property—that even if he lost, no one would dare lay a finger on me. He was wrong. He lost the best-of-three series in a humiliating landslide. But the real twist wasn’t the loss. It was Isabella. Moved by Sean’s reckless, million-dollar grand gesture, she accepted his pursuit right then and there. Within the hour, they were on a private jet bound for a secluded island in the Pacific, disappearing into a month-long honeymoon phase. And I? I was left behind, being dragged toward a back room by a group of leering, middle-aged men with greasy smiles. In the 11th hour, Verna—the woman who ran the club with an iron fist—stepped in. She gave me two choices. I could wait for Sean to eventually come back and pay the fifty million to redeem me, though she couldn’t guarantee what would happen to me in the meantime. Or, I could step into the vacuum Isabella left behind, become Verna’s protege, and finally earn a name for myself in this city. I looked up, my eyes burning with a resolve I hadn’t felt in years. I chose the second path. 1. Verna’s gaze sharpened with something like respect. “Sean staked you for fifty million,” she said, her voice cool. “In his mind, you’re quite the prize.” I looked down, silence stretching between us. I wasn’t the prize. He just thought Isabella was worth that price tag. Back in the room Verna assigned me, I buried myself under the duvet. The sheer, visceral humiliation of the night made me shake uncontrollably. Every socialite in the city knew I was Sean’s “plus-one,” his favorite toy. People whispered behind my back about how I was a gold-digger, a girl with no soul and an appetite for designer labels. What they didn’t know was the reality of my life: the parents in a private care facility whose medical bills burned through cash like a forest fire, and a younger brother at Oxford whose future depended entirely on me. Sean had been good to me, in his own twisted way. He was never stingy. I had been naive enough to believe there was a flicker of genuine affection behind the jewelry. I never imagined he would put me on the table just to win another woman. The next morning, Verna sent over a velvet box containing a spectacular jewelry set. “A gift from Mr. Cross,” she said. “Sent via courier. I suppose he’s trying to play ‘apology’ from his private island. He might be a bastard, but he certainly spends like a king. This set went for ten million at auction. Half the trophy wives in the Hamptons would kill for this treatment.” I looked at the sparkling diamonds, my voice unnervingly steady. “Verna, since it’s mine, help me sell it.” I looked her in the eye. “I need the capital.” Verna nodded, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across her face. “Good girl. Smart women suffer less. Remember this: never feel guilty about the money you can take, and never, ever hallucinate about the ‘heart’ you can’t.” Take the money. Don’t dream of the heart. I repeated those words in my mind three times, chewing on them until they tasted like iron. I smiled until my eyes stung, a dull ache radiating through my chest. If I had understood this simple truth five years ago, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much now. 2. I met Sean five years ago. Back then, I was a cocktail waitress, desperate and drowning in debt. One night, a drunk client threw a wad of cash at my face and tried to pull my clothes off right there in the booth. Sean, trailing a cloud of expensive cigar smoke, shattered a bottle over the man’s head without blinking. He looked at me—shaking, covered in spilled gin—and his lips curled into a faint, dangerous smirk. “A hundred thousand a month. Do you want to be mine?” Over the next five years, the women in his orbit changed like the seasons. There were girls more beautiful than me, girls who knew how to play the game better, but they all eventually faded into the background. I was the only one who stayed. For five years, I was the constant. Eventually, even his inner circle of trust-fund brats started joking about it over poker. “Sean, it’s been five years, man. Don’t tell me you’re actually catching feelings for your little songbird?” Sean would just laugh, a careless, hollow sound. “She’s too fragile,” he’d say. “If she left me, the world would eat her alive.” He treated me like a pet, yes, but the favoritism was blatant. Three years ago, at a dinner party, a nouveau-riche developer made a crude joke about me. “Hey Sean, when you’re done with her, pass her over. I don’t mind second-hand goods if they look like that.” Before the laughter could even land, a heavy glass ashtray collided with the man’s forehead. Sean grabbed him by the hair and ground his face into the shattered glass. As the room went silent with shock, Sean dropped to one knee in front of me. He took a warm towel and gently wiped a stray drop of blood off my leg. Before we left, he scanned the room, his eyes dark and predatory. “Let’s be clear,” he said. “She is mine. For life. Anyone who thinks otherwise will lose more than just a tooth.” 3. I didn’t see him again for a month. When I finally did, it was in the club’s most opulent VIP suite. Isabella sat there, draped in haute couture, leaning into Sean with a soft, practiced grace. I walked in wearing a sleek, professional black suit, my movements disciplined as I poured their drinks. “Your vintage, Mr. Cross.” Sean’s expression darkened the moment he saw me. Halfway through the game, he irritably shoved his chips aside. “I’m done,” he snapped. He ignored the confused looks of his friends and dragged me out onto the balcony overlooking the city skyline. “Jade,” he said, his voice tight. “How have you been this month?” I pulled my hand back, stepping out of his personal space. “Thanks to you, I’ve been doing quite well here.” I saw his shoulders relax slightly. He actually looked relieved. “I knew it. Verna wouldn’t dare mistreat you, not with my reputation on the line.” I thought of what Verna told me: As soon as Sean pays the fifty million, you’re free to go. My fingers tightened at my sides. “Sean… Verna mentioned that once you settle the debt, I could…” My voice trailed off. Sean avoided my gaze, looking out at the neon lights of the city. “Jade, don’t be in such a rush,” he murmured. “Isabella hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’ve had my hands full taking care of her. Once she’s settled and feeling better, I’ll come get you.” I looked at the floor, cursing my own stupidity. I was still looking for hope from the man who had traded me like a used car. The silence was broken by a scream from the suite. Isabella. Sean’s face transformed instantly. We ran back inside to find a drunken guest pawing at Isabella, his voice thick with malice. “Stop acting so pure! Just because you’re with Cross now doesn’t mean you can forget your old regulars! You think I won’t tell him about—” He didn’t finish. Sean grabbed a magnum of champagne and swung. As the man collapsed, bleeding, Sean pulled Isabella into his arms, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t be scared. I’m here. No one touches you.” It was a carbon copy of the protection he had given me three years ago. The exact same script. Verna stood at the door, her eyes finding mine through the crowd. I gave her a small, sharp nod and stepped forward. “Security, remove this gentleman and call a medic. Housekeeping to Section A for glass cleanup immediately. Move Mr. Cross and his guest to the Sapphire Lounge.” I turned to the room, my voice projecting a calm I didn’t know I possessed. “Drinks are on the house for the rest of the night. Please accept our apologies for the interruption.” The room settled. The mess was vanished. Sean held Isabella, but his eyes were fixed on my face. I could see the shock in them. He didn’t recognize this version of me—the girl who used to faint at the sight of blood was now commanding a room. Ultimately, he said nothing. He simply picked Isabella up in his arms and walked out. 4. Verna walked over and squeezed my shoulder. “Cool under pressure. Well done, Jade. You didn’t embarrass me.” That night, when I checked my bank balance, my eyes watered. Thirty thousand dollars. Compared to the million-dollar checks Sean used to toss my way, it wasn’t much. But this money was mine. It was earned through sweat and long hours, not traded for my dignity. I bought a pair of exquisite jade earrings and knocked on Verna’s door. She was leaning back on her leather sofa, turning the earrings over in her hands. “Satisfied already? This is just the beginning,” she said. “Wait until you climb to the top of this industry. You’ll realize that the joy of making your own money is ten thousand times better than being a man’s accessory.” On my way out, I passed a private booth. I heard a voice ask Sean, “Hey man, you could easily take Jade home right now. Why leave her here? Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave you for real?” Sean’s laughter was arrogant and effortless. “Leave me? With what? I support her entire family. No one else is going to be that kind of a sucker. Once Isabella is in a better mood, I’ll go pick her up. She’ll be waiting.” The laughter in the room was deafening, but Verna’s words played on a loop in my head. Live for a man? I don’t think I need to anymore. The following months were a blur of work. I didn’t seek out news of Sean and Isabella, but it found me anyway. Sean Cross rents a super-yacht for Isabella’s birthday. Sean Cross shuts down the harbor for a private fireworks display. Engagement rumors swirl. At first, the gossip stung. I’d spend a quiet hour at night feeling the ghost of that old heartbreak. But eventually, my heart grew a thick, protective callous. I became numb to it. Six months later, I was Verna’s right hand. My monthly take-home, including commissions, hit eighty thousand. For those six months, Sean sent someone to the club every single day just to watch me. I stopped trying to figure out why. My parents’ health was stabilizing. my brother was months away from graduation. My life finally had a horizon. Isabella, ironically, was the one who kept trying to see me. I was too busy to grant her the time. Until the twentieth time she showed up. 5. When I finally let her into my office, she put on a delicate, concerned front. “Jade, I heard you were with Sean for five years.” She paused, smoothing her designer dress. “I wanted to ask… what are his preferences? His habits? And perhaps you could list your own habits as well, so I can make sure to avoid them. I’d hate to remind him of his past.” I pulled out a sheet of paper, picked up a pen, and started writing without a hint of emotion. Verna taught me well: losing your cool over irrelevant people is the ultimate amateur move. “Here you go, Isabella. Everything you need.” Isabella picked up the paper with a smug expression, scanning the pages. Suddenly, her face contorted. She grabbed a crystal glass from my desk and hurled it at me. A sharp, searing pain exploded against my forehead. I felt the warm, thick trail of blood run down my temple, blurring my vision. Isabella was screaming now, her finger inches from my nose. “No wonder he won’t let me dye my hair! No wonder he forces me to wear those pale, boring dresses! It’s all because of you! You’re still trying to hook him, aren’t you? You’re a pathetic, desperate bitch who can’t live without a man!”

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When my husband slid the divorce papers across the marble table, the afternoon sun was streaming through the window, blindingly bright. It was the kind of light that exposed every speck of dust in our perfect living room. He told me he had spent our entire marriage “just getting by.” He said he only had three months left to live, and he wanted to spend that time with his true love. I stared at the “voluntary forfeiture of all assets” clause, my fingernails digging into the edge of the paper until they left red crescents in the skin. Three seconds later, I picked up the pen. I suddenly remembered that only thirty minutes ago, my doctor had called to tell me that his terminal cancer diagnosis was a colossal mistake. A lab mix-up. He wasn’t dying. In this grand, deathbed confession of his, it turned out I was the only one who was terminal—terminal to a marriage that had been dead long before the “diagnosis.” 1 “Let’s get a divorce. Please, let me have this one last wish,” Christopher said as he handed me the documents. His eyes were calm, his voice heavy with a manufactured gravity. I froze, the words sinking in slowly. “Your ‘true love’? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Chris?” Christopher was wearing a crisp white linen shirt and beige chinos. He didn’t look a day over thirty, let alone like a man at death’s door. He still looked every bit the refined, handsome literature professor I’d married. He looked down, tracing the grain of the table. “Yes. My life is on a countdown now. There’s no point in hiding the truth from you anymore.” “Three years into our marriage, I met a girl. She was one of my grad students.” “We spent hours discussing Keats and Plath. We spoke the same language—intellectually, spiritually. It was a world away from the grocery lists and utility bills I discussed with you. With her, there was resonance. A soul-deep connection.” “I fell for her.” “But I was married. Out of a sense of duty to you, and because she felt so much guilt toward you, we ended it.” Chris’s voice was peaceful, almost wistful. When he spoke about this girl, a faint, subconscious smile touched the corners of his mouth. “We’ve stayed friends over the years. We never crossed the line again. When we met, it was just poetry, philosophy, the meaning of life.” He looked up then, locking his eyes onto mine. “Do you have any idea? Only when I’m with her do I feel like I’m actually alive. Like a complete human being. I’m not just a cog in the machine of domesticity, worrying about mortgage payments or trying to conceive a child.” “She is my Muse. My soulmate. We were an accident of fate, a tragedy defined by the rules of a world that doesn’t understand us.” I listened to his poetic monologue in silence. My lip curled into a sharp, bitter arc. “Wow. You really can put a tuxedo on a pig, Chris, but it still smells like a farm.” Christopher flinched, his ears turning a bright, indignant red as if I’d slapped him. “Vulgarian! You don’t have a graceful bone in your body. This is exactly what I can’t stand—your utter lack of depth, your lack of education. Marrying you was like throwing pearls before a swine.” “…” I was speechless for a second, but then the anger started to cool into a hard, crystalline clarity. “So what? Am I supposed to apologize for being the one who actually kept your life running?” I leaned in, my voice dropping an octave. “Professor, does wrapping your affair in ‘literary resonance’ make it a masterpiece instead of a cliché?” Chris looked momentarily embarrassed, but his resolve didn’t waver. “I’m getting this divorce. I won’t spend my final days living a lie.” He pushed the papers closer. I flipped through them, my eyes skimming past “Irreconcilable Differences” and stopping at the property division: Christopher Miller waives all rights to shared assets. Chris tilted his chin up with a martyr’s grace. “These material things mean nothing to a man who’s leaving this world. It’s my way of compensating you. Call it a parting gift.” I let out a dry laugh, thinking of the “Clear Bill of Health” notice folded in my pocket. A second later, I uncapped my pen and signed my name in a jagged, decisive scrawl. Fine. Let him go chase his “spiritual twin flame.” I’d take the “vulgar” house, the “shallow” savings accounts, and the “pedestrian” investment funds. I think I could handle the burden of being rich and alone. 2 Christopher clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly. He stared at the signed papers, looking stunned, almost disappointed that I hadn’t begged him to stay. I didn’t give him time to process. I walked into the bedroom and went into overdrive, throwing his designer shirts and cashmere sweaters into two massive suitcases. He stood in the doorway, bewildered. “Diana, are you really in such a rush to kick me out?” I shot him a look over my shoulder. “Why wait? Every minute you’re here is a minute you’re not with your ‘Muse.’ And we wouldn’t want to waste your precious, limited time, would we?” I zipped the suitcases shut with a loud thrip. “Your clothes are here. I’ll have a professional moving crew send your books to whatever address you give me tomorrow. I’ll send them COD—cash on delivery. Don’t forget to pay them.” A look of realization dawned on Christopher’s face, followed by a sneer of pity. “I see. Now that you know I’m terminal, you can’t wait to unload the ‘burden,’ can you?” He looked at me with a holier-than-thou disdain. “This is why these years have been such a struggle. Our marriage was a mistake from the start. You are so transactional, so obsessed with the bottom line. You only ever wanted to talk about money and chores. You were a waste of my time.” He sighed, his eyes glazing over with that dreamy look again. “But life shouldn’t be a chore. Becca says life should be a snowfall we stop to admire. It should be moonlight and poetry…” My stomach turned. I couldn’t help but cut him off. “Are you finished? My ‘common’ ears can’t take any more of this Hallmark-channel-crap. Take your bags and get the hell out of my house.” Christopher’s gold-rimmed glasses caught the light, cold and sterile. He looked at me as if I were a smudge on a painting, a piece of filth infecting his spiritual sanctuary. He opened his mouth to retort, but his phone buzzed. His expression softened instantly. He answered, and I caught the faint, melodic lilt of a woman’s voice. His “Becca.” She said something on the other end—probably something coy or “soulful”—and a look of pure, doting indulgence washed over his face. He spoke to her with a tenderness I had never heard in ten years of marriage. I used to think all marriages were like ours—quiet, stable, a bit dull. I thought that was just what adulthood felt like. Now I realized my marriage wasn’t just dull; it was a hollow shell. Christopher left. I stood in the middle of the empty living room. The sun was still shining, the flowers on the balcony were swaying in the breeze, and birds were chirping outside. The world didn’t stop because a marriage ended. I thought I would cry. I thought I would break down or smash a vase. But I didn’t. The epiphany hit me with a lightness that felt like flying. In the span of a few hours, I had gone from joy (he’s not dying!) to shock (he’s leaving me) to rage (he’s a cheater) to a strange, soaring sense of relief. Why would I want a man like that? He was gone, I had the house, and he was effectively dead to me anyway. It was like winning the lottery and having the trash take itself out at the same time. Oh, wait. I felt the paper in my pocket—the misdiagnosis report. My husband wasn’t going to die. He was just going to roll out of my life in a very literal, very healthy way. 3 Once the dust settled, my biggest fear was that Christopher would suddenly regret it. Because life without him? It was magnificent. I grew up in a very traditional, very “safe” family. My parents raised me to be a Good Woman. They taught me that there was a timeline for everything: graduate, get a stable job, get married. So, when a family friend introduced me to Christopher Miller, I followed the script. My parents adored him. He was a professor at the local university, handsome, well-mannered, with a respectable income. I didn’t even think to ask if I loved him. It felt like we were both just at the stage of life where “marriage” was the next logical step, so we stepped into it together. I thought this was what everyone meant by “love.” A partnership of convenience and shared meals. And then came the “terminal” diagnosis. For a moment, my world collapsed. I thought the pain I felt was grief for my husband. But after the divorce, I realized it was just the terror of the unknown—the fear of my “script” being torn up. Finding out it was a misdiagnosis had been a moment of pure euphoria. But now, my life was completely off-script. And instead of panic, I felt a sense of liberation I hadn’t known since I was a child. I audited our assets. He had been generous in his “dying” guilt. I had enough to live comfortably for a long, long time. During the mandatory cooling-off period before the divorce was finalized, I learned how to breathe again. I took a sabbatical. I traveled to places I’d always wanted to see—the rugged coast of Maine, the vast plains of Montana, the neon chaos of Tokyo. Without the “wife” label weighing me down, I felt weightless. It was during these travels that I stumbled upon a video on social media. It was Christopher. And his “Becca.” The woman in the video looked to be in her late twenties. She was beautiful in a soft, curated way—long auburn waves framing a face with delicate dimples. Her name was Rebecca Jones. Her profile was a masterpiece of “Main Character” energy. Every post was a poetic reflection or a soft-focus literary critique. She didn’t post often, but when she did, it was usually a video of her discussing Plath, and now, a man had started appearing in the frame with her. In the videos, Chris looked the same—soft knit sweaters, gold-rimmed glasses, the image of the “tortured intellectual.” In one video, they were talking about love. Christopher looked into the camera with a profound sigh. “Love is an irrational force,” he said. “It doesn’t care about timing or social contracts. When it happens, you’re helpless. Even in the face of duty, the heart demands its truth.” He looked at Rebecca with a gaze so thick with longing it was nauseating. Rebecca looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing perfectly. I scrolled through the comments. “Relationship goals!” “Literary soulmates!” “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” I looked at them, and for the first time, I felt zero pain. Watching him be “profoundly in love” with someone else was the final confirmation I needed: I had never loved him either. I smiled, closed the app, and went to get a glass of wine. When the cooling-off period ended, we met at the courthouse to sign the final papers. Rebecca was there, standing by his side, watching me with a wary, defensive look—as if she expected me to claw her eyes out. But I was calm. I was radiant. Chris gave me that same pitying look. “Our marriage was a mistake, Diana. Now that things are back on the right track, I hope you find your own version of happiness.” I smiled, waving my copy of the decree. “Thanks, Chris. I’m sure I will. But I’ll try to find it without cheating on anyone first.” I walked away without looking back. As soon as I got home and confirmed the wire transfers for the house and accounts were complete, I put the misdiagnosis report in an envelope and mailed it to his new address. 4 I thought we’d go our separate ways and never speak again. I underestimated how low Christopher and Rebecca were willing to sink for “content.” A former colleague texted me a link. It was a livestream on Rebecca’s account. On the screen, Chris and Rebecca were wearing matching cream-colored sweaters, looking like a spread from a “Kinfolk” magazine. They looked perfect. The words coming out of their mouths, however, were anything but. Chris was holding court for the camera. “Yes, I’m divorced now,” he said, his voice dripping with faux-humility. “When I was younger, I thought ‘compatibility’ was enough. I rushed into marriage. But my domestic life was… stagnant. It was a cycle of the mundane. Every morning was about bills, insurance, the mundane stresses of work.” “I wanted to talk about Camus, Shakespeare, Tagore. But my ex-wife… she just listened with a blank stare. She couldn’t meet me where I was.” “We turned our life into a dull, gray pebble. It wasn’t until I met Becca that my life found its color again.” He looked at her, and she gave a practiced, shy smile. The chat was flying by. People were hailing them as icons of “authentic living.” “With Becca, we talk about the philosophy of existence. We are intellectually synchronized. With her, I’m not just surviving. I’m living.” “After the divorce, I finally felt like I could breathe. I didn’t have to face the suffocating boredom of domestic chores, or a narrow-minded, materialistic wife, or the endless, clinical pressure of trying to conceive…” I stopped cold. We had tried to conceive for years. It hadn’t worked. We’d gone to the clinic once, and the tests had shown that Chris had an extremely low sperm count. It was almost impossible for him to father a child naturally. At our parents’ suggestion, we had discussed IVF. He was the one with the fertility issues. I was the one who was going to have to take the hormone shots, deal with the mood swings, the physical pain, the fear, and the permanent changes to my body. And this man—this man who would have just sat in a waiting room—had the audacity to sit there and act like he was the victim of “pressure”? In all those years of marriage, I had managed our home, our social lives, and cared for both sets of parents. To him, all that labor was just “narrow-minded materialism.” A white-hot rage flared in my chest. My fingers moved before I could think. I typed into the chat: “Does a man who cheated on his wife really have the balls to play the victim? Does knowing a bit of poetry make being a ‘douchebag’ an art form?” Among the sea of “So beautiful!” and “Soulmates!” my comment stood out like a bloodstain on a white rug. The chat paused for a heartbeat, then exploded. Behind my screen, I smirked. I typed again: “Hey Chris, did you get that mail I sent? You know, the one about your medical follow-up?”

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The night before our engagement, Marcus had my stepsister Olivia pinned down on our wedding bed, tangled up together. He didn’t answer my calls. Only after finishing sex did he bother to text me back. “I’m having dinner with a client. My phone died earlier. What’s up?” I uploaded the surveillance footage I’d just downloaded straight to Twitter and announced the cancellation of our engagement. Marcus hadn’t noticed my Twitter post. He was too busy cuddling with Olivia in his arms for another round. Less than a minute after I posted, my notifications blew up to 99 messages. Marcus’s cousin Lester messaged excitedly: “Shit, this content is R-rated! No minors allowed!” “Sophie, did you get hacked?” “You and my brother should watch this kind of porn video under the covers, not post it publicly~” “Wait a second! Why does this guy look like my brother??” I sneered and replied: “It looks like him because it IS him. Your brother’s starring in it himself.” I didn’t bother replying to the other comments. Instead, I posted another pinned tweet: “Thank you all for your concern. My engagement to Marcus tomorrow is cancelled.” After posting that, I logged out of Twitter. My mom called me several times in a row. I didn’t answer. She was extremely satisfied with Marcus, practically wanting to announce to the whole world that I was about to marry into a wealthy family. Now that she’d suddenly seen I was calling off the engagement, she’d definitely make me delete everything. My phone kept vibrating in my palm. I simply turned it off. Out of sight, out of mind. After driving to a bar, I ordered a whiskey and waited patiently. Someone like Marcus never checked Twitter. It was normal that he hadn’t seen my messages yet. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone with a loose tongue would notify him. My friend asked why it took me so long to arrive. I laughed bitterly: “I was helping someone catch cheaters.” And speak of the devil—here came the cheater himself. Marcus pushed through the noisy, crowded bar toward our private room. His brows were furrowed, his expression dark. He kept pulling out his phone to make calls, like he had urgent business. And the woman who’d just been desperately entangled with him in bed was following right behind him, step for step. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and said something I couldn’t hear, tears in her eyes. Marcus looked extremely impatient. He pried her arms off and shoved her aside, turning to leave without a backward glance. The woman burst into tears, sitting on the ground crying her heart out. I hadn’t been able to see her face clearly in the surveillance footage earlier. Now, as the bar lights flashed, I finally got a good look at her. Fair skin, beautiful features, big eyes, an oval face—exactly Marcus’s type. And as it happened, I knew this person too. It was none other than Olivia, the daughter my stepmother had brought into the family. I stared at her in a daze. My friend patted my shoulder. “Sophie, is your phone dead?” The bar was too noisy for me to hear her clearly. Seeing this, she sighed and leaned closer. “Marcus is going crazy looking for you! He even called me!” She held her phone in front of me, showing an active call. The bar was blasting DJ music at that moment, making my head throb. My friend very considerately held the phone to my ear. I could faintly hear Marcus’s voice on the other end. “Sophie, it’s not what you think! Let me explain!” I snatched the phone and threw it into the ice bucket. My friend shrieked, “Sophie, my phone! Why are you dragging me into your fight!” My gaze swept over the woman who’d been crying her eyes out moments ago. I snorted coldly: “I’ll buy you a new one later.” “Men are like phones. When they don’t work right, you throw them out.”

At three in the morning, I dragged my exhausted body home. Sure enough, Marcus was waiting at my door. He crushed out his cigarette and quickly walked toward me. “Sophie, where were you? Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” Smelling the alcohol on me, his tone turned concerned: “You’re drunk. Let me carry you inside.” I shoved away his embrace. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” Marcus’s hands froze in midair. “Sophie, let me explain. It’s not what you think.” “That video must be AI-generated. I absolutely didn’t do anything to betray you!” I looked at him coldly, my face full of mockery: “Marcus, can you stop treating everyone like idiots?” “I downloaded that video from the surveillance system myself. I’m not blind. I saw everything crystal clear.” Marcus’s expression froze instantly on his face. His body went rigid, and his eyes dodged mine in panic. The alcohol hit me, and my stomach churned violently. I shoved past the man in front of me and rushed into the bathroom to throw up endlessly. Marcus followed me in. He gently patted my back, handed me tissues and water. I even accidentally threw up on him. Marcus had a cleanliness obsession. If he’d done this for me before, I would have been touched. But now, images of him and Olivia tumbling together in bed played on repeat in my mind like a movie. I just found this man utterly hypocritical. “Marcus, leave my house. I don’t want to see you anymore.” Marcus didn’t answer me. He just silently cleaned up the bathroom, then went to the kitchen to make hangover soup and placed it by my bedside. “Sophie, remember to drink the hangover soup.” “Let’s not talk about this right now. Get some rest, and we’ll talk after you’ve sobered up.” I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him and coldly spat out one word. “Get out.” I couldn’t sleep all night. And my mom showed up right on time at eight in the morning. She literally dragged me out of bed. “Sophie! You still have the nerve to sleep!” “Who gave you that video? That absolutely cannot be Marcus! Don’t let people manipulate you—they just can’t stand to see you happy!” “You called off the engagement without consulting your family. Do you know how many people are laughing at us? You’ve completely humiliated me!” I rubbed my throbbing temples and sighed: “Mom, I downloaded the video from the surveillance system in our new house myself. It can’t be faked.” “Marcus cheated. He…” My mom didn’t let me finish. She cut me off directly: “Don’t give me your lectures! Who is Marcus? When he stomps his foot, all of Los Angeles shakes! It’s completely normal for a man like that to have women throwing themselves at him! You eat his food and wear his clothes—can’t you show him some understanding? You think calling off an engagement is like playing house when you were three? Where are you going to find another man with such good conditions after leaving Marcus!” I wasn’t at all surprised to hear these words from my mom’s mouth. Her low standards for men were legendary. But I was different from her. “Mom, if you like Marcus so much, why don’t you marry him yourself? The engagement can go on as planned.” My mom’s face turned red with anger. She raised her hand to hit me. My stomach churned violently. I pushed her aside and rushed into the bathroom to hug the toilet. Behind me, my mom cursed that I was outrageous—nearly thirty years old and still getting drunk, not knowing how to take care of my body at all. Finally, the topic circled back to Marcus. “The Williams family is prestigious. Marcus is handsome and rich. If you miss him, think it through yourself!” My mom’s words, spoken word by word, made me think again of Olivia lovingly entwined with Marcus. “Look at you—this room is a complete mess. Can’t you clean up a bit? Why is there blood on the sheets?” “Look how sloppy you are. Who would want you besides Marcus! And you’re still not satisfied!” I silently closed the bathroom door, blocking out her voice. Curled into a ball, I buried my face in my arms and let my tears flow freely.

The story between Marcus and me wasn’t what outsiders saw—him chasing novelty, me chasing money. We’d been together for eight years. We got together back in high school when the school was cracking down hard on teen dating. When we celebrated our eighth anniversary, I couldn’t help asking him while cutting the cake if there’d be another anniversary to celebrate. He smiled and pinched my nose, pulling out a diamond ring and slipping it on my ring finger. “Next time we’ll celebrate our first wedding anniversary together.” “Sophie, will you marry me?” No. I regret it. I should have refused then. Marcus, you said you’d love me forever. You said I was your first love, your first kiss, and I’d be everything for the rest of your life. Then who is she to you? My mom made a huge scene at my place, trying to get me to reconcile with Marcus. But when she found I was completely unmoved, she eventually cursed at me a few times and left. I stayed home for two days with my phone off, refusing to look at any messages about him. Trying to patch up my heart that was riddled with holes. On Monday, I pulled myself together and went to work as usual. As soon as my coworkers saw me, they congratulated me and asked for wedding candy. “Sorry, my engagement is cancelled. I’ll bring you some another time.” My coworker’s smile froze on her face. “Oh, that’s okay.” “Um… are you alright?” I nodded and smiled: “I’m fine. Really good.” With that, I opened my computer and started working. During lunch break, I overheard several coworkers chatting together in the hallway. “Why did Sophie suddenly call off her engagement?” “Her boyfriend is so handsome and rich. Did he dump her?” “Don’t talk nonsense. I’ve met her boyfriend. Last time when it was snowing and the roads were so slippery, her boyfriend came to pick her up in a Porsche. When he saw Sophie wearing high heels, he got out of the car and just picked her up. They seemed so in love—how could they just break up like that?” “Then what else could it be? Did Sophie cheat?” “I told you not to spread rumors. We’ve worked with Sophie for so long—don’t you know what kind of person she is? Sharp tongue but soft heart. She’s a really good person.” I didn’t keep listening. I turned back to my workstation to continue working. Two messages popped up on my phone screen. My mom was nagging at me again. [I heard from Marcus that you blocked him?] [You’re too old for this kind of behavior. Hurry up and add him back. Apologize. Talk through whatever misunderstanding you have.] I stared at her messages in a daze. My heart was completely calm. Coming back to my senses, I clicked on my mom’s profile and put both her and Marcus on my blocklist together. After work, it started drizzling. I opened a rideshare app. It showed 120 people in the queue. I stood in front of the building, waving goodbye to my coworkers one by one until I was the only one left. I suddenly thought of Marcus. All these years, whether it was windy or rainy, he always came to pick me up. Because I depended on him, I’d stopped even carrying an umbrella. Habits really are a terrible thing. Holding my bag over my head, I took a breath and rushed into the rain. I’d barely run a few steps when someone grabbed me and pulled me under an umbrella. The moment I looked up, I met Marcus’s eyes. “Sophie, I came to take you home—” “Get lost!” I pushed away his hand and ran toward the bus stop without looking back. But Marcus persisted. He kept following behind me, desperately holding the umbrella over my head. “Sophie, be good. What if you get sick from the rain?” “Even if I die, it has nothing to do with you!” I turned around and couldn’t help hitting him several times with my bag: “Can’t you understand human language! I don’t want to see you anymore! Every word you say to me makes me sick!” “Stop bothering me! We have nothing to do with each other anymore!” “Get lost! Just get lost!” My hysterical appearance in the rain made me look like a madwoman. Turns out losing control of your emotions really does happen in an instant. I’d had a pretty good day up until then. The weekly meeting went smoothly, my boss praised me, and I’d even treated everyone to coffee. But the moment I saw Marcus, he so easily shattered all my strength. Marcus seemed nailed to the spot. He stood motionless, letting me hit him until it hurt. My bag fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it up and placed it in my hands. His lips moved like he had something to say, but ultimately it was all swallowed by the rain. I flagged down a taxi and got in without looking back. In the rearview mirror, Marcus’s figure grew farther and farther away. Finally, I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. After getting home, I took a hot bath. While I was in the kitchen making soup, I received a call from an unknown number. “You dare block me! Marcus just got in a car accident, do you know that?!” “Los Angeles Hospital, get over here now! Any later and you won’t even see him one last time!”

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To replace my husband’s car, I secretly applied for a housekeeping job. The first time I saw such a luxurious house, I got nervous and accidentally broke a cup. Just as I was feeling anxious, Kelly, the lady of the villa, let out a scornful laugh: “It’s just a cup worth over ten thousand dollars. Is that really worth getting so nervous about? Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay for it.” I got even more nervous: “Thank you, ma’am. If even a single cup in your house costs over ten thousand, you must be really rich.” Kelly smiled: “It’s not that I’m rich. It’s that my sugar daddy is rich.” She showed me: “This bracelet cost a hundred and eighty thousand. My sugar daddy bought it for me without even blinking.” I froze. I had seen this necklace before on my husband’s phone. He said that once we had money, he’d buy it for me. Looking at it more would give me motivation. I smiled enviously: “Your sugar daddy is really wealthy. My husband said he’d buy it for me too, but there’s no way he could afford it. Still, just knowing he has that intention is enough for me.” Hearing me say this, Kelly looked disapproving. “Let me tell you, women need to treat themselves better.” “Otherwise you’ll end up like my sugar daddy’s wife. My sugar daddy is a billionaire, but his wife still lives in a rental in the slums.” Looking at the photo on her phone, I froze. Wasn’t this my home?

I tightened my grip on the cleaning cloth in my hand. “But since your sugar daddy has already become a billionaire, why doesn’t he tell his wife?” Kelly blew out a puff of smoke and laughed, “Actually, I’ve asked him that too. Guess what he said?” I shook my head. “He said that a woman willing to suffer hardships with him is so rare, someone who’s devoted her whole heart to him. That kind of genuine love shouldn’t be tainted with money.” Kelly sneered, “If you ask me, my sugar daddy is just tired of that old hag at home.” “I heard that old woman has been with him since she was eighteen. To support his startup, she went out to run a street stall every day. She did that for nine years straight.” “In that kind of street stall environment, exposed to wind and sun, no matter how good-looking someone is, how attractive can they stay?” She lowered her voice: “Let me tell you, my sugar daddy actually succeeded in his business five years ago. He’s loaded!” “But to keep up the act of being poor, even when his wife was eight months pregnant, he still made her go out to the street stall.” “Once, some troublemakers showed up. His wife’s belly got hit, and she almost died along with the baby!” She clicked her tongue with a sigh: “When his wife called him from the hospital, he was still on top of me, working hard, if you know what I mean.” “I asked him if he was going to go. He said he’d told his wife he was on a business trip with his boss, so if he went, his cover would be blown.” “I heard that poor wife had it terrible. She lost the child, and her uterine wall got scraped so thin.” “Who knows if she’ll ever be able to get pregnant again in this lifetime.” I instinctively covered my stomach. My memory drifted back to that winter. That day, I went out to my street stall as usual. A bunch of thugs came to eat burgers. When it was time to pay, they claimed there was a fly in the burger and refused to pay. I got anxious and grabbed the man’s hand, asking him to pay up. I didn’t make much money from a single burger. Going out in such cold weather was just to earn a bit more. But the man got angry and shoved me away hard. The gutter on the ground was frozen over. I slipped, and my whole body fell heavily to the ground. The pain felt like my pelvis had cracked. That group of thugs ran off immediately. I called Howard many times, but couldn’t get through. Later, someone nearby called 911 for me. After getting to the hospital, I was sent straight to the emergency room. The doctor told me there was an imported medication that might save the baby and would be better for my body too. But one injection cost fifty thousand dollars, and I needed two injections total. I called Howard. This time he finally picked up. On the other end, he sounded both anxious and hesitant, but in the end said we didn’t have that much money, so maybe we should just forget it. My child was just gone like that. And because of that surgery, my body was completely ruined. A day later, Howard appeared before me. He knelt heavily in front of me, slapping himself repeatedly. He said it was all because he was useless, and swore viciously that he would make big money in the future and never let me and our child face danger again. But I never imagined that he was already very rich back then. He was just busy pretending to be poor, busy rolling in the sheets with Kelly. Howard’s message suddenly came through. “Honey, I’m accompanying my boss on a business trip today. I got an extra five hundred dollars!” “Look at the gift I bought you. You’ll definitely love this necklace.” The picture showed a silver-plated necklace. Kelly let out an excited cry: “Look, my sugar daddy bought me an emerald and diamond necklace. I checked, and it costs three million eight hundred eighty thousand!” “He also said he’s coming to see me tonight. It must be to make up for not being with me the day my mother-in-law died!”

I was stunned. “His wife’s mother passed away?” Kelly nodded. “Yeah. That old woman was apparently from a single-parent family. Her mom worked hard to raise her alone and developed all kinds of health problems.” She wrinkled her nose. “Talk about bad luck. That day was our five-year anniversary, and she just had to pick that day to die. So annoying!” “I didn’t want to let him go, but he said her mom died trying to save his parents from a fire, so he had to go.” “I managed to delay him for three hours, making him have sex with me twice before leaving.” “Thinking about it now, I’m still a bit angry!” “If you ask me, that old hag deserved to die. She just had to go check on my sugar daddy’s parents.” I suppressed the rage in my heart and said hesitantly: “She was probably worried about them and wanted to make sure they were okay.” Kelly let out a scornful laugh and rolled her eyes. “His parents usually live in a villa community with plenty of housekeepers taking care of them. Why would they need that dead old hag to check on them?” “If it weren’t for cooperating with my sugar daddy’s act, they never would have gone back to that old rundown house.” “If they hadn’t gone back, there never would have been a fire.” “So you see, that old hag just had a cheap life. She deserved to die!” I clenched my fists. “So you’re saying your sugar daddy’s parents always knew their son had become rich, but they went along with him to deceive his wife and his wife’s mother?” Kelly admired her manicure and said casually: “No matter how heartless my sugar daddy is, he couldn’t possibly let his own parents suffer, right?” “His parents didn’t want to go along with it at first. They gave my sugar daddy a harsh scolding.” “But when my sugar daddy mentioned that his wife probably couldn’t even have children anymore, they agreed.” My heart felt desolate. When I first met Howard, his father was critically ill and his mother was disabled. They were the type who got bullied by neighbors even in daily life. When my mom found out I had a boyfriend, the first time she went to meet his parents, she saw them being bullied by a group of people. Those people threw stones at them and dunked their heads in sewage for fun. My mom’s loud voice scared them off as she swung a broom at them. Later, my mom felt sorry for them and would bring groceries to visit them from time to time. My mom even paid out of her own pocket to find doctors to treat them, trying to lighten my burden. That day, my mom went to check on them as usual, but a gas leak caused a massive fire. Seeing the bad situation, my mom forced her body to carry his parents, who had already been knocked out by the smoke, outside. My mom suffered severe burns over a large area of her body, and right before getting out, a falling beam crushed her leg. That day I knelt in the hospital begging the doctor to save my mom. The doctor said skin grafts and leg surgery were both major operations that would cost a lot of money—at least three hundred thousand. That day I kept calling Howard, wanting to tell him to maybe withdraw the money from his bank account for emergency use. But the phone just wouldn’t go through. My mom was tortured to death by the pain! And he was rolling in the sheets with Kelly again? Kelly seemed to remember something and laughed. “Let me tell you, his wife kept calling while my sugar daddy and I were having the time of our lives, so I just threw the phone away.” “Later when we finally finished, my sugar daddy wanted to call his wife back. Guess who picked up? That dead old hag.” She laughed heartily. “I’m telling you, when I heard that old hag’s voice, I moaned right into the phone.” “After a brief pause on the other end, she actually got so angry she started screaming at us through the phone, cursing us for being shameless.” “That day my sugar daddy got angry for the first time and actually slapped me.” She said indignantly, “Later I heard that dead old hag died.” She lowered her voice. “But let me tell you, that old hag actually could have survived.” “But my sugar daddy was afraid his wife would find out about his affair, so… he had someone pull the old hag’s tubes.”

Furious beyond control, I slapped Kelly across the face. “You scumbags and homewreckers, go to hell!” I grabbed Kelly by the throat, wishing I could drag her down with me. “You… what’s gotten into you? Someone, get over here and pull her off me!” I was quickly restrained by the other servants. Kelly slapped me across the face again and again, beating me until my mouth was full of blood. “You crazy woman, what’s gotten into you?” Enraged, I kept trying to lunge at her even as the servants held me down. One servant tried to reason with me: “My God, do you know who you just hit?” “That’s the woman of the Aimar Group CEO!” “She has power and influence. She could crush people like us with just a finger. Stop this madness!” I let out a cold laugh. Aimar Group? When Howard said he wanted to start a business, he said the company name absolutely had to be ‘Aimar.’ Because my name is Aimar. This was the new name my mom gave me after she took me away from my father’s hellhole. Howard used to say this company was created so I could live a good life. So not only would he use my name, but all the money the company made would go to me. He said no matter what he did, everything would only be for me. But I only knew about going out to my street stall every day. I didn’t even know his company had already been established! I struggled hard to break free, shouting, “I just can’t stand these homewreckers!” Seeing I still wouldn’t back down, the servant punched me several more times. He growled in my ear in a low voice: “Who do you think you are to look down on mistresses?” “People laugh at poverty, not prostitution. If you’re so capable, make your husband rich too. Otherwise, why are you working as a housekeeper?” “Let me tell you, since you’re working as a housekeeper, keep your mouth shut. Not everyone is someone you can afford to provoke!” Kelly started calling Howard, and the call connected in a second. Kelly’s voice was pitiful and tearful. “Hello…” Hearing something was wrong, he immediately asked what happened. “What’s wrong, baby? Who doesn’t want to live anymore and dared to bully you?” Kelly glared at me hard. “It’s the newly hired housekeeper.” “I don’t know what got into her. She just jumped up and hit me!” “She hit me so hard it hurts…” The other end sounded heartbroken, constantly comforting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, baby. I’ll be home soon. When I get back, I’ll teach her a harsh lesson for you!” Kelly seemed unsatisfied. “How is that enough? That housekeeper even dared to call me a gold digger!” The other end chuckled lightly. “She’s not wrong, though. Aren’t you a gold digger?” Kelly got angry and shouted at him: “It’s one thing for me to be insulted, but can you really bear to let your son be called a bastard as soon as he’s born?” I froze. She even had a child?

Howard seemed equally shocked. “You’re pregnant?” Kelly glanced at me smugly. “Of course. You worked so hard planting seeds, naturally I got pregnant!” She said coquettishly: “You’ve been tired of the one at home for a long time, haven’t you?” “When are you finally going to kick her out and give our mother and son proper status?” Howard coaxed, “Be good. Let’s not keep the child. Find a time to abort it, and I’ll go with you.” Kelly sounded incredulous. “Howard, you’re actually saying you want to abort our child?” “I’ve been with you for five years. Am I still not as good as your wife in your eyes?” “Let me tell you, if you don’t give our mother and son proper status, I’ll make a scene in front of your wife!” The other end went silent for a moment, then Howard’s voice rang out again. Different from before, this time his voice was frighteningly cold. “Didn’t I tell you? Don’t even think about positions you shouldn’t covet.” “What are you to compare yourself to my wife?” “Let me tell you, if you dare make a scene in front of my wife, I’ll make your life a living hell!” Kelly got scared. “I… I won’t make a scene. I’ll be good.” The other end quickly softened his tone. “Good girl. I like it when you’re obedient. Pick any bag you want. This is your reward for being good.” Kelly nodded like she’d been frightened silly. She suddenly looked at me. “But I’m still not satisfied about that housekeeper hitting me!” Howard on the other end laughed. “Didn’t she call you shameless? Then make her become a plaything for men too. That way you’ll feel better, won’t you?” Kelly’s eyes lit up. “Howard, you’re right!” “She keeps going on about how great her husband is, acting like she loves him to death.” “I want to see if she’ll still have the face to call me a mistress after she has sex with another man in front of her own husband!” I struggled frantically, trying to speak. “No, I…” But my mouth was quickly covered. Howard on the other end sounded puzzled. “Who was that talking just now? Why does the voice sound so familiar?” Kelly dismissed it with a wave. “Just that crazy woman.” She excitedly grabbed my phone. “Howard, I’ve got her phone. I’ll call her husband in a bit.” “I want her husband to hear with his own ears the sounds of her sleeping with another man. Then we’ll see who’s more shameless!” She looked at me with a mocking smile. “I’ve already had someone strip off her clothes. Howard, when will you arrive? I want to watch with you.” A chuckle came from the other end. “I’m already at the door.”

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I was born with a natural milky scent. Any baby who came near me would stop crying. The owner of the maternity care center was amazed by my talent and offered me a $50,000 salary on the spot to work there. But I refused immediately and went to Europe to study the most difficult finance program. Because in my past life, I worked as a top-tier maternity nurse for the wealthiest family in the country, taking care of their newborn daughter and granddaughter. At the baby’s full moon celebration, a woman’s underwear stained with a fragrant scent suddenly fell from the wealthy heiress’s husband’s jacket. When confronted, that damned son-in-law insisted I had tried to seduce him and failed, then planted my own underwear to frame him. I desperately tried to explain, but because the underwear carried the exact same scent as mine, the wealthy heiress had me dragged out and mauled to death by dogs. My parents came to seek justice for me, but they were chopped into pieces and fed to fish. When I opened my eyes again, I painfully rejected the $50,000 salary and went overseas, working myself to the bone to become a Chief Securities Analyst. With a million-dollar annual salary, I successfully joined an international company and was invited to attend the full moon celebration of a business partner’s great-grandson, while also evaluating their company. At the celebration, the wealthy heiress’s husband’s jacket once again dropped that same piece of underwear. Facing the wealthy patriarch’s interrogation, he calmly looked past the crowd and pointed directly at me. “She tried to seduce me and failed, so she deliberately planted her intimate clothing to frame me!” “I can swear to God that I’ve never done anything to betray Scarlett!” —

The lace underwear was stained with bodily fluids. The full cup size definitely didn’t belong to the flat-chested heiress Scarlett Harper. Meeting Scarlett’s gaze that wanted to cut me into a thousand pieces, I calmly set down my wine glass. My eyes showed none of the panic from my past life. Instead, I looked directly at the Harper family’s son-in-law, Marcus Kane, and spoke. “Mr. Kane, I went abroad to study at eighteen and only returned today after completing my studies.” “Today is the first time we’ve ever met. How could I possibly plant underwear in your jacket?” “I’m afraid you had an affair and still weren’t satisfied, so you kept your lover’s underwear in your jacket to reminisce over it from time to time!” My words were too blunt and explicit. All the guests stared at him in shock. Marcus’s face turned red as his thoughts were exposed, but he still defended himself. “Nonsense! You’re clearly one of the maternity nurses working at my house!” “From your first day on the job, you kept making eyes at me. When I ignored you, you kept trying to seduce me!” “Last night I was caught off guard when you pushed open my door and crawled into my bed, offering yourself to me.” “If I hadn’t threatened you that my wife was right outside the door and I’d call her in to fire you if you didn’t leave, you wouldn’t have given up!” Marcus’s words made Scarlett frown slightly. Ever since giving birth to the baby, she had been sleeping in a separate room from Marcus on the professional maternity team’s recommendation. Last night when she got up thirsty for water, she did hear noises when passing by Marcus’s room. Her sharp gaze immediately fell on me. Seeing that Scarlett believed his words, Marcus continued to slander me with a pretentious air. “I saw you were a woman trying to make a living as a maternity nurse, so I didn’t want to expose you.” “I never expected you to be so vicious—failing to seduce me, you went straight to framing me! What a wicked heart!” “My daughter absolutely cannot be left in the care of such a maternity nurse. She should be fired immediately!” Marcus’s words hit Scarlett’s sore spot. Scarlett immediately demanded of Nathaniel Harper, the patriarch. “Nathaniel, this maternity nurse is too sinister. I’m afraid she’s already done something harmful to the baby.” “We should bring out Shadow and interrogate her thoroughly until she confesses on her own!” Nathaniel nodded. The next second, a huge iron cage was wheeled to the center of the banquet hall. When the black cloth was removed, a hunting dog as tall as a person stared at me fixedly, letting out excited low growls. The bodyguards opened the cage, preparing to stuff me inside. The image of being torn to shreds by the vicious dog in my past life seemed to play before my eyes. I immediately spoke up. “This underwear has the smell of breast milk on it. I’m not in my lactation period, so the clothing definitely isn’t mine!”

Marcus’s face darkened immediately, and he looked panicked as he tried to throw the underwear into the nearby swimming pool to destroy it. Unfortunately, Scarlett beat him to it, taking the underwear and having it examined. After seeing the obvious stains on it, her face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. Her gaze swept over my unremarkable chest, then she backhanded a slap directly across Marcus’s face. “I remember everyone who’s been breastfeeding my daughter. It’s definitely not her!” “Who is that bitch?” Marcus’s face was scratched bloody by the ring on Scarlett’s hand, but he didn’t dare show even a hint of anger. He could only lock his venomous gaze on me and continue throwing dirt on me. “Who says people not in their lactation period can’t have this scent?” “I’ve heard of people with special gifts who secrete milk even when not lactating, and they carry a unique fragrance on their bodies.” “No matter how fussy a child is, they’ll stop crying when near such a person and can’t help but feel close to them.” “She’s so young yet earning a $50,000 salary as a maternity nurse at the Harper house. Maybe it’s precisely because she has this exceptional quality.” “The owner of that underwear is her!” Marcus spoke with such conviction that Scarlett demanded I undress on the spot to prove my innocence. Naturally I refused, taking out my phone to call the police. But Marcus snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground. “If you say it’s not you, just have someone verify it! Why keep avoiding it? I think you’re guilty!” I wasn’t backing down either. “I didn’t do it, so I didn’t do it! Just because of baseless slander, I have to use this humiliating method to prove myself? Well then, I say you’re impotent!” “Why don’t you take off your pants and prove it to everyone?” Marcus was left speechless, but Scarlett’s brow furrowed tightly. She told me, “Marcus would never slander someone randomly. Since you say this underwear isn’t yours, then find a way to prove it.” “Or else, go in and have a chat with Shadow.” “I believe facing Shadow’s fangs, any liar will become honest.” Scarlett was forcing me. Either strip to prove my innocence, or enter the cage to be fed to the dog. The Harper family’s bodyguards had already surrounded me. If I showed any sign of trying to escape, they would immediately swarm forward, capture me and stuff me into the dog cage, making me a wronged soul under that hunting dog’s claws. Taking a deep breath, I made my choice on the spot. I pulled out my credentials from my carry-on bag. A graduation certificate from a top German university, a doctorate degree in economics. And an employment certificate as Chief Securities Analyst for Oceanic International Corporation. But I didn’t take that one out. I didn’t want to mix business with personal matters. Showing the two certificates, I told Scarlett. “Miss Harper, I studied at university in Germany. Anyone knows how difficult it is to study there.” “I spent six years working myself to the bone to become a finance doctorate from a world-class institution, with a million-dollar annual salary.” “Do you think I would work day and night for a measly $50,000 monthly salary taking care of a crying child and constantly watching out for ill-intentioned men in my employer’s household?” That last sentence was deliberate. I wanted to tell Scarlett that I looked down on her $50,000 maternity nurse position. Only a wealthy heiress like her—born into privilege but with an underdeveloped brain—would believe the lies of a man like Marcus who constantly ran his mouth. Sure enough, Scarlett’s gaze at me softened after seeing those two certificates. No matter how stupid she was, she should understand the value of a German doctorate. Her sharp gaze fell back on Marcus, but then a woman rushed forward and slapped me three times, screaming. “Sophia Clark, have you lost your mind! Forging credentials to deceive the wealthy heiress.” “Aren’t you afraid of being exposed and dragging our whole family to hell with you!”

My cheeks swelled up from the beating. Five clear finger marks appeared on my face. Looking closely at the woman before me, I realized I didn’t recognize her at all. With a cold expression, I covered my injured cheek and warned her. “I don’t know you at all! If you don’t apologize and compensate me immediately, I’ll have my legal team sue you!” But the woman wailed dramatically. “God help me! How did I give birth to such a troublemaker!” “To deceive people, she won’t even acknowledge her own mother!” “Miss Harper, Mr. Kane, I apologize to you. I failed to raise my daughter properly.” “However you want to punish her this time, go ahead. I won’t stop you anymore, to prevent her from continuing to swindle people everywhere!” The woman’s words caused an uproar. Many people gasped. “This girl is actually a professional con artist?” “Even her own mother is saying this, it must be true!” “Thank goodness she showed up in time, or we’d all have been fooled!” Scarlett gritted her back teeth and asked me. “Is it fun to play me for a fool?” “Someone, lock her up with Shadow. I want her to have a really good time!” Seeing the triumphant expressions flash in both the woman’s and Marcus’s eyes, I immediately called out loudly. “I’m not lying! This woman isn’t my mother! I’m not called Sophia Clark either.” “My name is Madison Smith. She doesn’t even know my name, so how could she be my mom?” Only then did Scarlett notice that the graduation certificate and degree in my hands indeed had the name Madison Smith written on them. Seeing the wavering in her eyes, Marcus quickly stepped forward to cover. “How could a mother possibly mistake her own daughter?” “She is Sophia Clark!” “To deceive you, she could even forge credentials.” “It’s just a name. Who knows if she made it up randomly because she’s swindled so many people and is afraid of being held accountable!” I immediately demanded that Scarlett send someone to the police department’s identity records to verify. My name was Madison Smith, and the parents listed in my records were definitely not this woman in front of me! Scarlett called the records department skeptically and soon received confirmation. I was indeed called Madison Smith, and the woman before me was not my mother. But facing Scarlett’s sharp gaze, the woman insisted she was my biological mother. “Sweetie, I divorced your abusive, cheating father when you were three years old, all for your sake, and raised you into adulthood by myself.” “You can’t just stop acknowledging your mother because that bastard said he’d buy you a car and house if you took his surname!” “He’s lying to you! Only I truly love you!” The woman spoke with tears streaming down her face and even pulled out a paternity test proving she was indeed my biological mother. Only then did I remember that when I was young, my father did tell me that the woman living with us wasn’t my biological mother. My birth mother was a gambling addict who tried to bet me at the card table when she got desperate. My father couldn’t stand her being so despicable, so he divorced her immediately, moved overnight, and cut ties completely. Our family hadn’t kept a single photo of her all these years, no wonder I didn’t recognize her. But no one believed my explanation. Even Nathaniel, who had been silent all along, stood up and said. “Miss Smith, I want to believe you too.” “But your mother has been working at the Harper house for twenty years. I trust her character.” “I absolutely won’t allow a woman who tries to destroy my daughter’s marriage and lies constantly to continue living in this world.” With a wave of his hand, Nathaniel signaled the bodyguards to stuff me into the dog cage. My gaze fell on Scarlett nearby, who had breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly thinking of something, I quickly grabbed Nathaniel’s pant leg. “Mr. Harper, I know who the woman having an affair with your son-in-law is! It’s her!”

Everyone looked in the direction I was pointing. Seeing that I was pointing at Scarlett herself, they all thought I’d lost my mind. Even Scarlett was amused by my accusation. “Madison, do you know what you’re saying?” “I’m Marcus’s wife! Me having an affair with him? Does that even make sense?” Nathaniel also looked at me with utter disgust. “If I’d known you were such a stupid con artist, I should have let Shadow tear you apart before you even spoke your first word!” “Take her to the beast arena. Notify the fireworks crew to postpone tonight’s fireworks display. I, Mr. Harper, invite everyone to watch a show of human versus beast combat!” Nathaniel spoke cruelly, and I was dragged toward the beast arena by the bodyguards. I struggled desperately to explain, but they found me too noisy and gagged me. Just as I was about to be taken out of the banquet hall, a business card fell from my shirt pocket with a soft sound. The bodyguards looked closely, and the next second their faces went white with fear. Trembling, they handed the card to Nathaniel. I also straightened my clothing and told Nathaniel. “To be honest, my real identity is Chief Securities Analyst for Oceanic International Corporation.” “I came to this family banquet today to evaluate whether the Harper family qualifies for Oceanic International’s first investment opportunity domestically…” “Ha ha ha!” Before I could finish, Marcus was laughing so hard tears came out. He clutched his stomach, pointing at me. “Madison, though your con is clumsy, I really admire your imagination.” “First a high-achieving overseas student, now Chief Securities Analyst for Oceanic International.” “Oceanic International is the world’s largest financial company. Even a janitor there makes more in a month than you do in a year!” “You’re just a nanny who wipes shit and piss. Stop putting gold on your face! Just go perform in the beast show!” Scarlett’s face also wore mockery as she casually tore up the business card and tossed it in the air. “I’ve seen this kind of trick plenty of times. You can’t fool people just by randomly printing some business cards.” “Your mouth is too stubborn. Shadow alone might not be enough to handle you.” “Nathaniel, didn’t you just buy me a few lions and tigers from Africa as gifts? Why not release them today and let everyone see?” Nathaniel’s gaze fell on the gold-embossed business card on the ground. The special watermark shone in the Smithlight so brightly he could barely open his eyes. But he still nodded, signaling his subordinates to throw me into the beast arena with the predators. Lions and tigers that had been starved for days immediately stood up, roaring excitedly at me through the bars. Marcus grabbed my hair, forcing me to make eye contact with the beasts. He didn’t forget to lower his voice by my ear, speaking in a volume only the two of us could hear. “Madison, you’re very clever. You almost got close to the truth.” “What a pity—you had bad luck. Just be good and let the beasts tear you apart, and no one will discover my secret.” He laughed arrogantly, raising his hand to signal the bodyguards to lift the bars. I watched helplessly as the bars were slowly raised. Death was only one step away from me. Just as the entire barrier was about to be opened, a hearty laugh suddenly rang out from outside the door. “Mr. Harper, congratulations on your great-grandson!” Seeing that it was the U.S. representative from Germany’s Oceanic Corporation, Nathaniel’s eyes lit up, and he enthusiastically invited the man to sit and watch the beast show. But when the man’s gaze fell on my disheveled appearance in the beast arena, his expression changed dramatically. He rushed into the arena regardless of everything, shielding me with his body.

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On May Day, my cousin had a wedding. I specifically turned down several major clients. I cleared out the top-floor banquet hall of our family’s five-star hotel to host her wedding reception for free. Who knew that during the toasting ceremony, her mother-in-law would die from suffocation after suffering an asthma attack without her medication. My cousin’s family immediately spread rumors that our hotel’s wild mushroom soup contained poisonous mushrooms. They claimed the old lady ate them, had hallucinations, and then fell ill, demanding we pay them a million dollars in compensation. The incident made it to the top of the local trending topics, and the hotel was shut down by the authorities. After my family of three went bankrupt and ended up homeless, we were hit and killed by a car. Those relatives who had been drinking wine worth tens of thousands of dollars per bottle at the wedding banquet even cursed me in the comments, saying I deserved to die. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to one week before May Day. My parents were discussing: “Lily, your cousin suddenly decided to get married on May Day. It’s hard to book a venue. Should we reserve a few private rooms for her at our hotel?” I put down the ledger. “No need. Don’t even reserve a single table.” My parents froze. “But everywhere is fully booked for May Day, and her in-laws are so stingy…” I let out a cold laugh. “What the hell does that have to do with me!”

I touched my frantically beating heart. The excruciating pain of being crushed by that truck in my previous life still lingered in my mind. Looking at my parents standing before me, completely unharmed, my eyes welled up. But I quickly calmed down. The bitter lessons of my previous life taught me that showing kindness to these bloodsucking relatives was asking for death. I grabbed the desk phone and called my assistant in. “Contact Mr. Lee immediately, the one who wanted to book our May Day slot.” “Tell him the panoramic banquet hall on the top floor is available for his business association event.” “Increase the price by ten percent from the original quote. The deposit must be paid in full today, or no deal.” My assistant looked somewhat surprised but moved quickly, immediately going to return the call. In less than half an hour, an urgently printed high-priced contract was placed on my office desk. I stared at the five million dollar deposit that had just arrived in the account and finally relaxed. I filled up all the hotel’s available slots during the May Day period. In this life, my cousin could forget about freeloading at our hotel. At two in the afternoon, someone kicked open my office door. My aunt Martha swaggered in with my cousin Shannon. Martha didn’t even knock, plopping her butt down on my leather sofa. She grabbed the imported cherries from the fruit plate and shoved them in her mouth. “Lily, your cousin is getting married on May Day. Have someone go change the carpet in the top-floor hall right away.” “That color is too dark, not festive enough. Change it to bright red.” Shannon, wearing high heels, walked to my desk and rolled her eyes. “Lily, that French menu of yours is too plain. It won’t impress anyone.” “My in-laws care about appearances. You must add Australian lobster to the menu.” “Oh, and wild mushroom soup – that dish looks high-class. Every table must have one.” “You can cover the price difference yourself. After all, you run such a big hotel, this small amount won’t matter to you.” Hearing this entitled tone, I almost laughed from anger. In my previous life, she used these exact words to get a million-dollar wedding banquet for free. I leaned back in my chair, watching this mother-daughter duo perform with cold eyes. Martha spat out a cherry pit and urged impatiently: “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf? Hurry up and call the kitchen to prepare the ingredients!” I pulled open my drawer, took out the newly signed contract, and slapped it hard in their faces. “No need to call.” “All the banquet halls have been booked.” “During May Day, our hotel is fully booked. We can’t even spare a spot in the employee cafeteria.” “Find someone else.” Shannon froze for a moment, picked up the contract, glanced at the numbers, and her face instantly turned extremely ugly. “Lily, what do you mean? You know I’m getting married!” Martha threw a tantrum on the spot, slapping the desk. Cherries rolled all over the floor. “You’re obsessed with money, aren’t you!” “For a few stinking dollars, you don’t even care about your cousin’s lifelong event?” “I’m your aunt! Is this how your family treats relatives?” Shannon’s eyes turned red. She squeezed out a few tears and started playing pitiful. “Lily, my life is so hard. My in-laws are poor and can’t afford a wedding.” “I was counting on hosting a grand wedding at our family hotel to collect more gifts and save face.” “If you don’t help me, how can I get my investment back?” I stared into her eyes and mercilessly exposed her. “How is your in-laws being broke any of my business?” “Are you going to split the gifts you receive with us?” “If you want a luxury wedding, pay for it yourself. Coming here to freeload – do you think I run a charity?” Shannon’s expression changed drastically. Her previously righteous gaze suddenly became flustered and evasive, and even her crying stopped. I keenly caught this detail. In my previous life, I found it strange – why would this family of extreme cheapskates insist on putting up a false front for an extravagant wedding? It seemed there was something going on here that I didn’t know about.

Seeing I was unmoved, Martha decided to go all in. She threw herself on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler having a meltdown. “This is outrageous! Rich people bullying poor relatives!” The commotion drew the attention of employees in the hallway. My parents happened to walk by after inspecting the guest rooms and were shocked by the scene. Seeing my parents, Martha immediately crawled over and grabbed my father’s leg. “Richard! You can’t forget your roots!” “Thirty years ago when you were dirt poor, I lent you two hundred dollars to buy rice.” ” I did you a small favor back then, and now you should repay me tenfold.! Now you run a five-star hotel and won’t even arrange a wedding venue for Shannon!” “You’re trying to kill us mother and daughter!” My father was soft-hearted and couldn’t stand hearing about these old debts. He looked troubled, glancing at my mother, then at me. “Lily, how about… we clear out the employee cafeteria on the first floor and set it up simply for Shannon’s wedding?” My mother Emily chimed in: “Yeah, they’re family after all. It’s not good to make things too ugly.” The horrifying scene of being crushed to death in my previous life flashed crazily through my mind. I felt a surge of rage shoot straight to the top of my head. I slammed the desk and pointed at the door, roaring. “Absolutely not!” “The banquet halls have all been rented to major clients. The first floor is also an auxiliary exhibition hall for their business association.” “The five million dollar deposit is already in the account!” “Breaking a contract with a billionaire client means we can’t survive in this industry!” “Whoever dares agree to clear the venue can pay the five million dollar penalty fee themselves!” My parents immediately shut up when they heard “five million dollars.” Shannon was so frightened by my murderous aura that she took two steps back. But she still wasn’t willing to give up, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Lily, you’re a cold-blooded monster!” “You’re such a vicious woman, you’ll never get married in your life!” I looked at her flustered, exasperated expression and sneered back. “Whether I get married or not is none of your business.” “But you, requesting time off for May Day and rushing into a wedding.” “Is there something unspeakable in your belly, and you’re desperately looking for an honest man to be your cleanup crew?” Shannon jumped up. “Bullshit! How dare you slander me!” She raised her hand and rushed at me to slap me. I was prepared, dodged to the side, and delivered a crisp slap in return. The sharp crack echoed as Shannon was sent staggering and fell to the ground. Half her face instantly swelled up red. Martha shrieked and lunged at me to pull my hair. “You little bitch, how dare you hit my daughter!” I coldly pressed the intercom on my desk. In less than ten seconds, four burly security guards rushed into the office. “Throw these two troublemakers out. If you ever let them into the hotel again, the security captain is fired immediately!” The guards immediately took action, dragging the shrieking mother-daughter duo and throwing them out of the hotel entrance. That evening, I stayed late to check the storage room. While inspecting the fire escape in the back alley of the hotel, I smelled cheap perfume. Then I saw a familiar figure – Shannon. What was she doing at the hotel so late? I lightened my footsteps and pressed against the wall corner. In the dark corner, Shannon was covering her swollen face while making a phone call, her voice trembling. I quietly turned on my phone and started recording. After listening to Shannon’s phone call, my whole body trembled. I finally understood the truth behind being scammed to death in my previous life. The poisonous mushroom scam in my previous life wasn’t an accident at all. What a vicious scheme. In my previous life, you stepped on my entire family to get ahead. Since that’s the case, in this life I’ll not only cut off your money path but personally send you to hell.

Early the next morning, my phone was bombarded with messages. The family group chat had exploded. Martha had posted a thousand-word essay in the group, tearfully accusing us. She denounced our family for being heartless after making money, refusing to acknowledge poor relatives. She said I beat my own aunt and cousin black and blue and threw them out the door, ruining my cousin’s marriage prospects. Several distant relatives who usually liked to freeload and didn’t know the truth immediately jumped out to take sides. George, a distant relative: “So what if you’re rich? You’ve lost all humanity!” Helen, another relative: “Lily has been heartless since she was little. She won’t even help relatives. When the hotel goes bankrupt, let’s see who goes to eat there!” Some even threatened to unite the whole family to boycott our hotel. Shannon also put on quite a show on social media. She posted: “Maybe I don’t deserve a perfect wedding. I’ve prepared everything, just missing a stage.” The accompanying image was an obviously filtered and blurred photo of her wrist with red marks, a fake suicide attempt photo. My father sat on the sofa, looking at the screen full of curses. His blood pressure nearly spiked as his hands trembled. “What… what is all this! We’ve offended all our relatives!” He anxiously typed on the screen, wanting to apologize and clarify in the group. He even planned to pay out of his own pocket to book a few tables for them at another hotel. I sneered and walked over, pressing down on my father’s hand and taking away his phone. “Dad, showing kindness to these bloodsuckers will only make them bite harder.” I took out my own phone, opened the financial software, and directly exported a statement. This was a receipt three meters long. I threw it directly into the family group chat. The statement clearly recorded every detail of Martha’s family’s consumption at our hotel over the past five years. Including but not limited to: eating for free, taking things for free, forcibly taking gifts. Down to the plate of peanuts she took last Thanksgiving, all with surveillance footage to match. The last line was marked in large red letters with the total amount: one hundred twenty-five thousand four hundred dollars. I directly @ Martha in the group. “Since Aunt Martha keeps saying we want to cut ties, then settle this account first.” “We’re family after all, so I’ll round down. One hundred twenty thousand, not a cent less.” “As long as you settle this one hundred twenty thousand, I’ll immediately pay out of my own pocket to host a wedding for you at the highest standard.” The distant relatives like George and Helen, who had just been wildly attacking, all played dead. These relatives had all freeloaded food and drinks at our place to some extent. They were afraid the fire would spread to them. After a minute, Martha sent a furious voice message in the group. “Lily, you’re full of shit. You forged the statement. You’re crazy for money and extorting your elders.” I had anticipated she would deny the debt. Calmly, I opened my photo album. I posted a surveillance video screenshot to the group. In the footage was last month when she brought people to dine and dash. After eating, not only did she not pay, but she also sneaked into the bar. When the cashier went to the bathroom, she directly shoved a box of cigars into her pants and took them. The video was extremely clear, even capturing the greedy expression on her face. I sent a voice message: “Martha, theft of property worth over five thousand dollars is prosecutable.” “Do you want me to call the police to arrest you, or will you pay back the money immediately?” Public opinion instantly reversed. Although the relatives didn’t dare speak up, soon several younger family members posted screens full of mocking emojis below. Shannon also quietly deleted that wrist-cutting post from social media. The mother-daughter duo became the laughingstock of the entire family. I knew that ever since I overheard Shannon’s phone call and learned that secret, given her viciousness, she would never let this go.

As I expected, after Shannon’s online narrative backfired, unable to gain relatives’ sympathy, she was planning another big move. Three days later at noon, Shannon brought her mother-in-law Edith, who suffered from severe asthma, and swaggered into our hotel lobby, ordering a table of the cheapest dishes. I figured this wasn’t just a simple meal, so I quietly sent a message to my friend who was deputy director of the emergency department at a major hospital, asking him to drive over immediately. At the same time, I called the security captain to my office. “Prepare two of the most concealed hidden cameras for me. Follow and film those customers comprehensively with no blind spots. Don’t miss a single fly.” Sure enough, after they quickly finished eating, they walked straight to the center of the hotel’s revolving door. Edith plopped down on the ground and started wailing. “There’s no justice. A five-star black-hearted shop bullying honest people.” “There were bugs in the food and they won’t refund the money, and they even hit an old woman.” “They promised to host a wedding banquet here before, now they suddenly broke the contract.” ” If you don’t agree to host my daughter-in-law’s wedding today, I’ll throw myself against this wall and make sure you get sued and let you lose all your business.” It was peak lunch hour, and more and more diners and passersby gathered to watch. Shannon took the opportunity to crouch down next to Edith, pretending to comfort her, while secretly slipping a small white medicine bottle to her mother-in-law. Edith immediately threw one pill into her mouth. At first, the old woman was still throwing a tantrum on the ground, and the onlookers were pointing and watching the excitement. But in less than a minute, after wailing twice, she suddenly convulsed violently all over and collapsed on the ground. Edith’s eyes rolled back, clutching her chest tightly. A wheezing sound came from her throat. She looked like she was dying from an acute asthma attack. Martha, who had been hiding outside the crowd, immediately rushed in, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Murder. A black-hearted five-star hotel drove my in-law’s mother to death.” “Everyone look. This restaurant has poisonous food.” This sudden turn of events attracted a large number of internet celebrities who had been camping nearby, all holding up their phones and starting live streams. Shannon, with red-rimmed eyes and the appearance of a wronged, filial daughter-in-law, pointed at my nose and cursed. “Lily. My mother-in-law just ate at your hotel, and now she’s dying.” “If someone dies today, your hotel is fully responsible. Compensate us. If you don’t pay several hundred thousand, this isn’t over.” I quickly calmed down. I arranged for security to maintain order while having my emergency department friend rush forward with a first aid kit. At the same time, I dialed 911 to report. I led the doctor through the crowd. “Everyone move. This is a deputy director physician from the emergency department. Let her perform first aid.” Seeing the doctor arrive, Shannon’s eyes instantly panicked, and she reached out to block. “We don’t need your fake kindness. Don’t touch my mother-in-law.” I was quick-eyed and quick-handed, fiercely grabbing Shannon’s wrist. With my other hand, I pulled out the white medicine bottle from Edith’s pocket. Shannon was shocked and wanted to scream and snatch it. But I had already quickly handed it to security to take to the hospital for drug testing. Just then, the piercing sound of police sirens roared in.

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I joked with my husband Damian about having an affair. Who would’ve thought he’d let out a long sigh of relief when he heard the news? “Emma, that’s great. Actually, I’ve been keeping something from you for a long time too.” His face bore a relieved smile that made my heart sink. “Since you’ve cheated, let’s break up. Your best friend Chloe is pregnant, and the baby’s mine. She’s been living in the apartment right below us. Every time I said I was working late, I was actually taking her to prenatal checkups.” “I’ve always felt guilty about this, but now that you’ve cheated too, I don’t feel bad anymore. This house goes to me—consider it compensation for your affair.” That night, he even told me outright he was going to sleep with Chloe. Watching him rush to leave, I laughed coldly. Want a divorce? There was no way I’d let him off that easily. A month later, Damian knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes. “Emma, I’m begging you, divorce me already!” “What’s with that look?” When Damian saw I wasn’t saying anything, his smile became even more unbridled. “We’re both adults. Since you found some other guy first, leaving me this house as compensation isn’t too much to ask, right?” He straightened his collar, his tone full of calculating entitlement. “Besides, you’re usually so dull and boring, and you just lie there like a dead fish in bed. Chloe is so much better than you—understanding, gentle, and adventurous. Not emotionally clueless like you.” Listening to his shameless remarks, I felt my stomach churning, disgusted to the point of nausea. “When did you two start sleeping together?” I forced my voice steady, staring at him intently. He shrugged carelessly and answered without hesitation. “About two years ago, right when your dad died.” Two years ago. Those three words crashed down on me, freezing every drop of blood in my veins in that instant. Back then, my dad had died suddenly from a heart attack. I’d completely broken down, unable to eat anything. I cried myself senseless every day. I thought Damian was leaving early and coming home late to support our family for me. Turns out, while I was drowning in grief, he was tumbling in bed with my best friend! “You had that miserable look on your face all the time back then—it was so depressing. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that.” “Chloe saw how stressed I was and invited me downstairs to comfort me. We ended up having sex.” He made his affair sound so noble, as if he were the one who’d suffered the greatest injustice. Looking at this man I’d shared a bed with for five years, I felt he was terrifyingly unfamiliar. He didn’t care whether I lived or died. He turned toward the door and changed his shoes. He couldn’t wait to go downstairs to his gentle haven—he didn’t want to stay even one more second. With his hand on the doorknob, he suddenly stopped and looked back at me. “Oh, remember to make some chicken soup for Chloe tomorrow.” “She’s been having severe morning sickness lately and can’t keep anything down. She’s lost so much weight.” “That chicken soup you made when I was in the hospital last time tasted pretty good. Chloe would definitely love it.” Hearing this, the fury in my chest exploded. Last time he was sick? That was a year ago when he’d gotten into a serious car accident, broke two ribs, and nearly died. When I got the call from the hospital, I was terrified out of my mind. I rushed to his bedside and took care of him day and night without rest. To make him chicken soup to help his recovery, I didn’t wear gloves while handling almonds, and my hands had an allergic reaction and swelled up red. Enduring the piercing itching and pain, I’d simmered the soup for four whole hours and fed it to him spoonful by spoonful. “That car accident—was that also because you were going to see her?” I forced my voice to stay calm. He paused for a moment, then waved his hand irritably, looking completely impatient. “Oh come on, that’s all in the past. Why bring it up now!” “Chloe said she wanted some macarons from that shop on the west side of town. I was rushing to see her and drove too fast, so I crashed into the guardrail.” “Anyway, now that we’ve laid everything out, we can each live our own lives. I wish you and your new lover a long and happy life together too.” He revealed the truth so casually, completely shattering the last shred of marital affection I had for him. So that accident that nearly killed him was also to please his little mistress. The scars my hands still bore from tearing them raw for his sake now seemed like the biggest joke in the world! I stood there in despair, too exhausted even to question him further. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to bark orders at me. “Pack up my stuff from the study tomorrow.” “From now on I’ll live downstairs. I’m not coming back—don’t want to disturb you and your boy toy.” “I’ll have my lawyer draft the divorce papers and send them to you. Sign them as soon as possible.” BANG—the security door slammed shut heavily. The empty living room held only me. I walked to the window and looked at the lights coming on downstairs, unable to hold back a cold laugh. Did he think one flippant sentence could erase two years of betrayal and deception? Did he think taking my house would let him live happily ever after with his mistress without a guilty conscience? Dream on. Divorce? That would be letting this pair of cheaters off too easily. Since he was so convinced I’d cheated, I’d make that joke come true. I would make them pay a much more painful price. I’d personally smash to pieces the love they were so proud of and the happiness they’d built together.

The next morning, the door was pushed open. Damian came back to move his things, looking smug and pleased with himself. I sat on the sofa, my eyes red-rimmed. “Are you really leaving?” My voice was hoarse as tears fell perfectly onto the back of my hand. “These five years, my whole heart has been with you. How am I supposed to live after this?” He paused in his movements, his face showing undisguised mockery. “Enough with the act. Don’t you already have some other guy?” He tugged at his tie. “We were married—you don’t need to make it seem like I’m forcing you.” I covered my face, sobbing uncontrollably. “I was just saying that to make you angry! There’s no one else! I just wanted you to spend more time with me…” I cried as if my heart was breaking. “You’re taking the house—where am I supposed to live? I don’t even have basic security. Are you trying to drive me to my death?” Hearing that I hadn’t actually cheated, he froze first, then couldn’t hide the smug satisfaction on his face. So he had such great appeal that I couldn’t live without him. “Ah, why put yourself through this?” He sighed, putting on a magnanimous air. “Chloe is kind-hearted and doesn’t want to see you homeless. How about this—I’ll transfer the three hundred thousand in savings to you. Consider it your living expenses for the future.” To prove to Chloe that he could handle me properly, and to show off his wealth, he immediately took out his phone and transferred the money to my account. Seeing the deposit notification, I kept my head down, desperately suppressing the smile at the corner of my mouth. The moment he moved his luggage downstairs, I immediately dropped the pitiful act. Wiping away my tears, I opened the computer and logged into his cloud account that he’d never signed out of. For five years, he’d been so convinced of my cluelessness that he hadn’t even changed his password. Those disgusting chat records, call logs, and Chloe’s prenatal examination reports—I saved them all. That afternoon, I printed out these photos and chat records and sent them all to Chloe’s parents back in her hometown—retired teachers who valued their reputation more than their lives. The next day, fierce arguments erupted from downstairs. Chloe’s parents had taken the overnight train and come straight over, breaking down their door. “You shameless bastard! We paid for your education, and you became a mistress for a married man!” The sound of slaps accompanied Chloe’s screams. Her father was shaking with rage, cursing viciously. “And pregnant out of wedlock? You’ve disgraced the entire family! If you don’t abort that bastard today, I’m disowning you as my daughter!” Damian rushed over to protect Chloe, only to have Chloe’s mother scratch his face bloody. “Who the hell do you think you are! Tricking my daughter into having your baby? If you don’t give us a clear explanation today and fifty thousand dollars in compensation, I’ll ruin your reputation!” Downstairs had turned into complete chaos while I leisurely sipped a glass of red wine upstairs. Damian must be frantic right now, desperate for money to shut the old couple up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t come up with a single cent now. Yesterday, I’d already taken his card to the most upscale mall in the city center. After such a huge shock, I deserved to buy some supplements to take care of my health, right? Truffle oil,caviar, limited edition handbags—I swiped without mercy. When the card ran out of money, I pulled out his credit card. The credit limit of several hundred thousand—I maxed it out in one morning. My phone kept getting notifications about exceeding the spending limit. I blocked his number. Right now, he was being pressured by Chloe’s parents to produce money, yet he couldn’t even scrape together next month’s rent for Chloe.

Just as I was contemplating my next move, the next morning, there was suddenly a knock at the door. “Open up! You little bitch, get out here right now!” As soon as I opened the door, my mother-in-law barged in aggressively. “My son just found someone else who can actually bear children, and you’re making a fuss about it?” “You’re a useless woman who can’t even have children, can’t even keep your man’s heart, and you still have the nerve to spend our family’s money?” Spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke, as if she wanted to tear me apart. “Hand over the property deed right now! This house needs to go to the child in Chloe’s belly!” “You jinx, hurry up and divorce him with nothing. Stop taking up space!” She rummaged wildly through the house. When she couldn’t find the property deed, she furiously lunged at me. I sidestepped, and she missed, tumbling awkwardly onto the sofa. “The property deed has my name on it. It’s my premarital property. If you want to steal it by force, I’ll call the police right now.” I looked at her coldly. My mother-in-law’s eyes went wide as she pointed at my nose, jumping with rage. “Bullshit! My son pays so much for the mortgage every month—how can it be your premarital property? You’re even scheming to take our family’s money!” “Mortgage?” I laughed coldly. “You must be senile. My dad bought this house in full for me. Your son never paid a cent of the down payment—where’s this mortgage you’re talking about?” My mother-in-law was rendered speechless, so she simply plopped down on the floor. “I can’t go on living! Evil daughter-in-law bullying her mother-in-law! Bullying us helpless women!” Too lazy to deal with her, I called building security directly and had her removed for trespassing. Then I opened the building residents’ group chat. “Everyone, please help me judge this situation. I’m pregnant, but not only does my husband refuse to acknowledge it, he’s also been sleeping with my best friend who lives in the apartment below me.” “The woman in the photos is Chloe from Unit 102 in Building 3. Not only is she pregnant with my husband’s child, but now the mistress’s parents and my mother-in-law come to my door every day forcing me to divorce and trying to steal my house. I really can’t go on living…” As soon as the message went out, the group chat exploded. The aunties and uncles in the group hated this kind of moral depravity the most. “That woman usually looks so innocent, but she’s actually a homewrecking mistress!” “So shameless! Even rabbits don’t eat the grass near their own burrow, but she’s stealing her best friend’s husband!” “These morally bankrupt cheaters deserve to die!” The combat effectiveness of these aunties was legendary. In less than half a day, Chloe’s reputation had spread throughout the entire complex. Whenever she went out, the uncles and aunties would point and gossip, and some even splashed dirty water and threw rotten vegetables at her door. She was so scared she kept her door locked tight, not even daring to go downstairs to throw out the trash. This was just the appetizer I’d prepared for her. My husband proposed to Chloe to appease her. But Chloe’s parents weren’t buying it at all. They laid it out straight. “Want to marry our daughter? Get divorced first! Then give our daughter fifty thousand dollars and transfer the house into Chloe’s name! Miss even one thing, and you can forget about marrying her!” Damian was cornered with no way out, so he could only pin his hopes on work. Unfortunately, I’d already blocked this last escape route for him too. I’d sent all his dirty laundry to his company’s client group chat long ago. His boss was furious and immediately removed him from the important partnership project he’d been working on for six months. Colleagues who used to be polite to him now took detours to avoid him, afraid of being contaminated by association. In just one week, he’d been tortured beyond recognition. That evening, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Damian with heavy dark circles under his eyes, disheveled hair, and a haggard face. With a thud, his knees buckled and he dropped heavily to his knees before me. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice thick with tears. “Emma, I’m begging you, divorce me already!” “I don’t want anything anymore—the house is yours, the money is yours. Please just let me go, okay?” Looking at his pathetic state, I felt not a ripple of emotion in my heart. “Divorce?” I looked down at him from above, laughing coldly. “What’s the rush? The game is just getting started.” I was calculating my last trump card—it would be enough to let him taste true despair.

He jerked his head up, his face full of shock. “Didn’t you cheat? Didn’t you desperately want to get rid of me?” “I was just messing with you—it was a joke. Did you actually believe it?” I laughed lightly. “This house was left to me by my dad. Why should I move out? I’m going to drag this out with you.” Damian collapsed to the floor, his face ashen. “If you won’t divorce me, Chloe’s parents will kill me!” He grabbed his hair, shouting in complete breakdown. “That’s your problem, nothing to do with me.” I kicked him aside and shut the door. The next day, I timed it perfectly and went downstairs. Chloe was sneaking out wearing a mask to throw away trash. Once glamorous, she now had greasy hair and a sallow complexion. Seeing me, she turned to run as if she’d seen a ghost. “What are you running from? Afraid I’ll eat you?” She watched me warily. “What else do you want? Damian doesn’t want you anymore!” I scoffed and leaned close to her ear. “He doesn’t want me? Last night he was on his knees begging for my forgiveness.” Chloe’s eyes went wide. “You’re lying! He said today he’d divorce you!” “Divorce? He hasn’t even drafted the agreement.” “He personally promised me this house will always be mine, to support me in my old age.” “As for you, his exact words were: Chloe is just a breeding tool. Once she gives birth, he’ll give her some money and send her away.” “You’re lying! Damian isn’t that kind of person!” Chloe was shaking with rage, her nails digging deep into her palms. “Don’t believe me? Then go ask him why he still refuses to go to the courthouse with me.” I glanced contemptuously at her belly and turned to leave. Back upstairs, I took out my phone. It contained dozens of chat screenshots. Recently, to recover his performance metrics, Damian had been frantically flattering a “wealthy female client.” He had no idea this generous woman was someone I’d hired. In the chat records, Damian was extremely obsequious. “Baby, I’m so sick of those two crazy women at home.” “Some bitch got pregnant and uses that lump of flesh in her belly to pressure me for fifty thousand and marriage every day. She should take a good look at herself in the mirror—as if she’s worthy.” “You’re so much better—understanding and considerate. Once I get rid of them both, I’ll come keep you company.” I packaged these screenshots and sent them directly to Chloe’s SnapChat. Calculating the time, my mother-in-law should be downstairs serving her right about now. Sure enough, in less than three seconds, ear-splitting screams erupted from downstairs. “Damian! Get back here right now!” The downstairs door wasn’t closed properly, and the arguing came through clearly. “What are you yelling about! What if something happens to the baby in your belly? Hurry up and take your medicine. Your main task right now is to give me a child!” “Give birth for your ass!” Chloe completely lost it, accompanied by the crisp sound of a water glass shattering. “Damian is garbage! A scumbag juggling three boats!” “He lied and said he’d transfer the house to me, but behind my back he told his wife I’m a breeding tool!” “Now he’s out there seducing some old woman! Absolutely disgusting!” Immediately after, urgent footsteps echoed in the hallway. Damian came running back out of breath. “Chloe, what’s wrong? Why are you so angry?” “You still have the nerve to ask!” Chloe shrieked. “Look at your phone yourself!” Damian clearly saw those screenshots, his voice instantly panicking. “Chloe, let me explain! That was all to close a business deal! That woman is a client!” “A client? Does doing business require you to call me a crazy woman who’s forcing you into marriage?” “You’re a complete liar! You want to get something for nothing—make me have your baby for free!” My mother-in-law heard this and wasn’t having it. “What do you mean for free? Bitch, you’re lucky to marry my son!” “Hurry up and drink this medicine! If you hurt my grandson, I won’t forgive you!” “I’ll make your whole family unable to have descendants!” Chloe screamed hysterically. “I’m going to abort this bastard right now! None of you will get a single cent!” “You dare!” My mother-in-law shrieked. Then came violent shoving sounds, followed by Chloe’s painful screams.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “390955”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

At the Dubois Pack’s moonlight ball, I was a temporary server pouring drinks for the wolves. I had told my six-year-old daughter Lily to stay put in the kitchen and wait for me, but she snuck out and came to my side. Along the way, she accidentally bumped into a drunk wolf. The wolf spilled his entire drink on me and started cursing me out. My ex-husband, Alpha Caius, appeared and got me out of the situation. He sighed. “Let’s remarry. Lily’s still young. She can’t keep living like this.” I agreed without hesitation. After we got back together, I stopped getting jealous and throwing tantrums. Lily also stopped competing with Kitty—the daughter of Caius’s childhood friend Aisling—for her father’s attention. When he stayed out all night with Aisling and her daughter, Lily and I didn’t call to check on him. When we ran into them outside, Lily and I tactfully kept our distance. We became exactly the kind of understanding wife and daughter he always wanted. But his eyes turned red. “Honey, why aren’t you angry?” “Lily, why won’t you come close to Daddy anymore?”

On the night of the moonlight ball, Caius marked me, and we became mates once again. The next day, after signing the remarriage papers, we returned to Caius’s mansion. He came up the steps behind us. Lily and I were standing at the door. “Why aren’t you going in?” I said calmly, “The password’s been changed.” As we spoke, the door opened from inside. Aisling appeared wearing an apron, her voice full of playful reproach. “What took you so long? Kitty’s asked about you several times—Talia?” I nodded politely. “Talia, please don’t misunderstand. Caius has been so busy with pack business lately, I just came to make him some soup.” “I always forget the password, so Caius changed it to my birthday. I’ll change it back right away.” But she made no move to do so. The smugness in her eyes was impossible to hide. “Daddy!” Aisling’s daughter Kitty threw herself at Caius’s legs. Aisling frantically covered her mouth, putting on a show of being afraid of me. “Kitty, didn’t I tell you to call him Uncle Caius?” Caius looked over at me awkwardly. Seeing that Lily and I weren’t making a scene like we used to, a flash of surprise crossed his face. Lily’s room was full of new things. Aisling bit her lower lip lightly. “Kitty sometimes sleeps here…” The little hand in my palm clenched tight. Lily said softly, “Mom, I can switch to a different room.” My heart, which had been completely calm until now, suddenly ached. In the past, whenever she saw Caius doting on Kitty, she would pout and cry, shouting “Daddy is mine and mine alone.” Every time, Caius would scold me for not disciplining her properly. Now she just quietly looked at her changed room. Children are sensitive. She already understood that only the favored ones could act spoiled. Caius frowned. Aisling hurried to say, “I’ll take the stuff away. Talia, please don’t be angry at us—” The mother and daughter huddled together, trembling, looking pitiful. In the past, I was always provoked by her passive-aggressive remarks, which led to fights with Caius. But now, I just looked at her coolly without saying a word. Caius suddenly spoke. “Don’t come in and out of my house so casually anymore. You’re a single mother—people will talk.” After packing up her things, Kitty said through tears, “Daddy, I want you to take me home.” Caius hesitated, looking at me. I smiled. “You and Aisling have so many years of history together. Of course you should take them home.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I turned to boil some water. Before leaving, Caius said hurriedly, “Wait for me to come back. We need to have a proper talk.” Only after everyone left did Lily and I truly relax. Soon, a message popped up on my phone. Aisling: [Sorry about this, Talia. Kitty’s used to having Caius watch cartoons with her, so he’ll be back a bit late.]

That familiar “sorry about this” again. I smiled and sent a brief reply: [Okay.] Caius didn’t come back until the next day. I was reading Lily her pre-nap story. I didn’t demand to know where he’d been. Throwing jealous fits like I used to would only make him resent me more, and it would affect Lily too. After Lily fell asleep, Caius handed me a box. It was the black diamond necklace I once wanted but that someone else had won at auction. In the past, I probably would have been overjoyed and thrown myself into Caius’s arms. But now, my heart was completely calm. I used to love jewelry. But after the divorce, I moved into a rough neighborhood and was dragged down the stairs by a thief yanking my necklace, ending up bloody and bruised. From that moment on, I realized these things were flashy and useless, and could even cost me my life. Not getting the enthusiastic reaction he expected, Caius’s expression flickered. “Let me put it on you.” I smiled and dodged. “Thank you, but I don’t like wearing jewelry anymore.” He stiffened. I went to the kitchen to cut some fruit. When I came back out, Caius was already gone. That afternoon, I took Lily out. Money had been tight these past two years. Lily often wore hand-me-downs from the landlord’s daughter. Now I could finally buy her clothes that fit properly. As we entered the children’s clothing store, we ran into Aisling and her daughter. And Caius. The sales clerk fawned over them. “Alpha Caius, Miss Aisling, these just arrived yesterday. They’d be perfect for Kitty.” Kitty shouted, “I want this one!” Caius smiled and swiped his card. “Ma’am, can I help you with something?” Another clerk approached me. I said softly, “I’d like to buy a couple outfits for my daughter to wear now.” Caius and the others also looked our way. I pretended not to notice and pulled Lily inside. When we came out after trying on clothes, Aisling and her daughter were gone. Caius looked at me with a complicated expression. “Today is Kitty’s birthday. I was buying her clothes as a gift…” “I see. Please send her my best wishes.” After speaking, I turned to the puzzled-looking clerk. “I’ll take both of these outfits.” Just as I was about to pay, Caius grabbed my arm. I quickly pulled my hand away. The clerk’s eyes darted between us. “Ma’am, you and Alpha Caius…” I smiled. “We’re friends.” A loud crash came from behind me. “Mr. Caius, you dropped your phone!” I turned around. Caius was staring at me intently. “What nonsense are you talking?” I looked puzzled. “Aren’t you going to celebrate her birthday with them?” He continued glaring at me, his chest heaving violently, but he said nothing. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t dare provoke him, so I pulled Lily toward the exit. The moment we left the store, Caius grabbed me. He asked in a low voice, “We’re clearly husband and wife. Why did you say we’re friends? Why did you just let them misunderstand our relationship?” I laughed. “Aisling was right there next to you. They obviously all thought Aisling was your girlfriend. If they knew you were already married, it would be terrible for Aisling’s reputation. Don’t you care most about Aisling’s reputation?” Caius was stunned into silence. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Why are you so different from before?” In the past, I would have made a huge scene over something like this. Caius was always impatient. “Stop being unreasonable. Aisling is a widow raising a child alone. It’s not easy for her. If people think she’s my girlfriend or mistress, at least they won’t bully her.” But what was the point of fighting with Aisling over these things now? I just wanted to raise Lily properly and let her live the comfortable life she deserved. I said calmly, “Isn’t this what you always wanted?” Caius’s face turned dark. He turned and left in anger. I didn’t care. I took Lily out to eat and shop, buying quite a few things. This life without worrying about making ends meet felt like it had before the divorce.

After getting married, I became a stay-at-home mom. Everyone around me envied me. Although I was just an ordinary wolf, I was Alpha Caius’s fated mate. We dated, got married, and I became the Luna of Dubois Pack—all perfectly natural. When we first got married, Caius treated me very well. The day I received the pregnancy test results and discovered I was expecting Lily, Caius was so excited he couldn’t contain himself. He held me and spun me around again and again. At that time, he gently caressed my belly and said, “I’ll make you and our child the happiest people in the world.” For a while, I truly believed I would stay this happy forever. Until Aisling’s mate died. That day it was pouring rain. Aisling came to our door with Kitty. She was soaked through. The moment she saw Caius, she threw herself into his arms, crying that her mate had died. And Caius didn’t push her away. Later, Caius told me he was just being considerate of Aisling’s grief over her recent loss. I believed him. Until Caius missed our anniversary for the first time. He told me he was handling pack business. But the moment he got home, Aisling showed up at our door to return his tie. I was confused. He just pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aisling was helping me with work. She brought it over on her way.” I wanted to ask more questions, but seeing how exhausted he looked, I didn’t have the heart. I lived a pampered life at home while he worked so hard outside. It really didn’t seem right to doubt him. I told myself that spouses needed basic trust. I couldn’t let jealousy run wild. But later, things like this happened more and more often. On our anniversary, Caius left me alone at the restaurant to go rescue Aisling from her difficult landlord. When sudden rain trapped Lily and me at the early learning center, Caius was taking Aisling and Kitty home. When Lily came down with the flu and had a fever-induced seizure, I couldn’t reach Caius. I took her to the hospital alone, only to find him bringing an entire team of pack medical specialists to treat Kitty’s scratched hand. Every single time, Aisling would proactively message me to “report.” [Sorry about this, Talia. Caius said I can’t stay here anymore, so he’s arranging for me to stay at another one of his properties.] [Sorry about this, Talia. It’s my fault for getting dizzy. Caius will come pick you up right after he drops me off.] [Sorry about this, Talia. Caius is just too worried about Kitty. I’ll talk to him about it later.] I couldn’t take it anymore. Again and again I demanded to know who his real wife and daughter were. At first he patiently explained. “We’ve known each other for so many years. I’m just helping her out when I can.” But he grew more and more impatient. “Aisling lost her parents and her mate. She has no one to rely on. Can’t you show her some compassion?” “Aisling is a widow raising a child alone. Why do you have to target her?” “Can’t you take care of yourself? I have so much pack business to handle. Do I really have to revolve around you two?” “If you can’t raise the child properly, get someone else to do it! She’s so young and already bullying others. What kind of monster will she be when she grows up?” Lily and I stopped waiting eagerly for him to come home. Because whenever he came back, all this little family got was fighting. Lily grew quieter and quieter. Even her daycare teacher came to ask if something was wrong at home. What finally made me decide to divorce him was what happened at the New Moon Festival celebration. I’d been exhausted and sleepy all the time during that period, and I completely forgot about the event. By the time I woke up, the celebration had been going on for quite a while. Then I saw a post on social media. [Alpha Caius and Aisling look so perfect together.] The attached photo showed Caius and Aisling sitting together at the event. Caius was cutting steak for Aisling. I called Caius five or six times. No answer. On the seventh call, someone finally picked up, but it was Aisling’s voice. “Talia, Caius is very busy right now. You can tell me whatever you need.” I told her to put Caius on the phone. But she just laughed coquettishly. “Talia, I’m Caius’s secretary. He has no secrets from me.” “You know, today so many people said I’d make a better Luna.” My whole body shook. I hung up and rushed to the venue still wearing my slippers.

Aisling had her arms around Caius’s waist, her whole body leaning into his embrace. I furiously pulled them apart and glared at Caius. “Is this what you do when I’m not around? Holding and hugging her?” Aisling came over to pull at me. “Talia, I had too much to drink. Don’t misunderstand—” I shook off her hand and glared at her. “Don’t touch me! Homewrecker!” I hadn’t used much force, but she cried out delicately and fell to the ground. “Talia! What’s wrong with you?” Caius roughly shoved me aside and helped Aisling up with concern, carefully checking her over. My lower back hit the corner of the table. The pain brought tears to my eyes. Aisling’s eyes were red as she held back tears. “It’s all my fault. Please don’t fight because of me…” Caius rushed to comfort her. “It has nothing to do with you. She’s the one having a breakdown.” Then he turned to me, his voice cold. “Talia, I’ve told you so many times—Aisling’s mother asked me on her deathbed to take care of her.” “Do you have any idea how hard it is for her to raise a child alone? You’re both women. How can you be so cruel as to call her a homewrecker?” The look he gave me was icy, even carrying a hint of disgust. “My patience with you has limits. Know when to stop.” “Don’t make me regret marrying you.” The moment those words left his mouth, my ears started ringing. I looked at Caius in disbelief. I wanted to say, “You’re my husband, Talia’s husband. How can you take an outsider’s side?” I wanted to say, “Aisling shows off and provokes me every time. Don’t you know that?” I wanted to tell him about Aisling’s true face on the phone earlier. But something was stuck in my throat. After a long time, all I could say was, “Then let’s divorce. We’ll break the mate bond.” The moment it came out, I suddenly felt liberated. I didn’t even want to bother with Aisling’s gloating expression. Caius froze for a moment, then laughed mockingly. “Talia, besides threatening divorce, what else can you do? Is fighting for attention and being jealous all your life amounts to?” With that, he helped Aisling leave. That day, I sat in the living room until dawn. It wasn’t until Lily started crying that I realized my legs were covered in blood. Only then did I learn that my recent drowsiness was because I was pregnant again. And by the time I realized it, I had already miscarried. The second child who came quietly had left just as quietly. A week later, Caius and I broke our mate bond and signed divorce papers along with custody and property division documents. I got custody of Lily. Later, my father suddenly fell critically ill. The doctor said he’d been poisoned with wolf’s bane, which could only be purchased from witches. My father was just an ordinary wolf who lived an honest life. I had no idea who would want to harm him. Despite several attempts to save him, he passed away. I used what little savings I had left to arrange his funeral. I tried to find work, but for some reason, no company would hire me. Many companies notified me of employment only to reverse their decision and reject me. With no other options, I could only take on various odd jobs for meager wages. Just like that, I went from being the esteemed Luna to a single mother living in a low-income neighborhood. Lily suffered a lot because of me. I woke up crying from nightmares countless times, regretting that I had ruined her life. This time, I wouldn’t fight with Caius over jealousy again. As long as I could provide a good life for myself and Lily, even if Caius found ten more “Aislings,” I would turn a blind eye.

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