Category: English

1 Six years ago, my life plunged into an abyss. My daughter suddenly fell gravely ill, and the exorbitant medical bills loomed over me like a mountain, crushing my spirit. My husband, Eric, not only chose to abandon her treatment but also ran straight into the arms of his childhood sweetheart, Gisele Evans. Just as I was consumed by despair, my first love, Jake Hall, appeared. Without a word, he transferred five million dollars into my account and stayed by my side, helping me care for our daughter. But fate was cruel, and our daughter ultimately couldn’t be saved. She left me forever. Now, six years later, Jake and I have built a new life, and I’m pregnant with our child. That day, I went to the hospital alone for a prenatal check-up. In the hallway, I unexpectedly overheard Jake and the doctor’s conversation. The doctor asked him with concern, “Mr. Hall, you and Ms. Thompson now have a child. What if what happened back then comes to light?” Jake’s answer pierced my heart like a cold knife: “Gisele was so sick back then, I had no choice but to use some means to transplant the child’s heart to her. Besides, Ruth is pregnant again now; she should have moved on from the past.” It was only at that moment that I realized my daughter had been deliberately misdiagnosed. Her heart, it turned out, had been secretly taken by Jake and transplanted into Gisele Evans! … Hearing this, tears silently streamed down my face. It turned out the baby in my belly wasn’t the fruit of love between Jake and me, but merely an offering of atonement. These past six years of our relationship were nothing but Jake’s elaborate act, all for Gisele Evans, the one true love of his life. I gently touched my slightly swollen belly, a bitter smile twisting my lips. Six years ago, I couldn’t save my daughter. Now, I refuse to continue this cursed entanglement. In the hospital office, the doctor sighed softly, a hint of regret in his voice: “Alright, Mr. Hall, but is this truly worth it? Gisele is already married, and you should be living your own life. After all, Ms. Thompson loves you so much; she’s a good woman.” Jake paused, then answered firmly: “Of course it’s worth it. I don’t care about titles, as long as I can protect Gisele. She can love whoever she wants; I just want her to be healthy and happy.” “As for Ruth Thompson, she is indeed wonderful. She’s a good wife and will be a good mother. Unfortunately, I don’t love her. You can’t force love.” Hearing Jake say this, the doctor shook his head, asking no further questions. “Ms. Thompson’s pregnancy is very unstable. She’s a woman who’s suffered greatly, having already lost one child. Please, be good to her and this child.” Silence stretched for a long time on the other end, until Jake finally uttered a soft “Mmm.” I bit hard on my lip, stubbornly refusing to make a sound. It wasn’t until Jake and the doctor left that I dared to sob openly. So, my daughter, who had been born just a few days earlier, hadn’t died of illness, but had been deliberately misdiagnosed by a doctor bribed by Jake. All for a fresh heart to be transplanted into Gisele Evans. Back then, when my daughter was diagnosed with a severe illness and admitted to the intensive care unit, my husband, Eric Vance, unwilling to bear the burden, walked out of the hospital and into the arms of his childhood sweetheart, Gisele. Jake’s appearance was the only light in our lives. Now, it seemed Jake’s helping hand was merely to better oversee this heart that belonged to Gisele. After divorcing Eric, Jake marrying me was probably just out of guilt. Leaving the hospital, a heavy rain began to fall. I didn’t hail a cab, stumbling along like a drowned rat. The rain mixed with my tears; I’d lost count of how many times I’d cried. When I got home, the housekeeper saw my disheveled state and rushed to meet me: “Madam, why didn’t you call the driver to pick you up in this rain? You’re pregnant; getting soaked isn’t good for you.” Hearing the commotion, Jake emerged from his study. Seeing my red eyes and messy hair, a flicker of something that looked like concern crossed his face. He set down his coffee and swept me into his arms. Jake’s tone held a hint of scolding: “You’re about to be a mother, and you’re still as willful as a child.” “Not to mention catching a cold, what if you hurt the baby? I don’t know what to do with you.” I glanced at him, muttering: “Jake, I’ve been a mother before. I don’t need you to teach me.” “If the baby dies, it dies. I’ve already lost one child anyway.” Jake’s steps faltered. He frowned deeply but ultimately said nothing. The bathtub was already filled with hot water. Jake tried to help me undress, but I refused. Jake looked at me suspiciously, seemingly puzzled by my uncharacteristic behavior. After a long standoff, Jake left the bathroom. I scrubbed myself repeatedly with shower gel, trying to wash away every trace Jake had left on me over the years. 2 By the time I returned to the bedroom, Jake was fast asleep. Looking at the profile of the man I’d lived with day in and day out, I felt an unsettling unfamiliarity. In a hazy dream, Jake reached for my hand. “Don’t go. Stay with me forever.” “Gisele.” Jake’s face was etched with infinite tenderness and dependence, an expression he had never shown me. The next second, Jake’s phone lit up. It was a message from “Princess Gisele.” I tried several times to unlock his phone, but none of the passwords worked. My birthday, Jake’s birthday, even Gisele’s birthday—nothing. On my last attempt, I tried the date my daughter died. Unexpectedly, it worked. I almost forgot, the day my daughter died, Gisele received a new life with her heart. It turned out Jake had been silently loving Gisele in such a meticulous way all this time. In the chat, Gisele had sent a few photos. In the pictures, Gisele’s smile was even more dazzling than the warm sun in March. She clung to Jake’s side like a fragile bird, and Jake, with a somewhat stiff movement, made a heart shape with her. “Jay, it’s so much more fun going to the amusement park with you. Eric is so boring compared to you.” “You promised to go to that photoshoot with me tomorrow. See you then, love you.” Jake and Gisele looked like a couple deeply in love, making me feel like a clown peeking into someone else’s happiness. But tomorrow was the day Jake promised to accompany me to my prenatal check-up. So, which was more important, the child or the woman he loved? That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I was gambling. If Jake chose to accompany me to the prenatal check-up tomorrow, then, for the sake of this new life, I would give him another chance. The next morning, Jake was up early, getting ready to leave. Jake’s face was alight with triumph. Just before he stepped out the door, I tugged at his sleeve. “Jake, where are you going? Didn’t you say you’d come with me to my prenatal check-up?” Jake’s smile vanished. After a long moment of thought, he gently patted my hand. “Ruth, I’m sorry, I have a very important meeting today. I can’t accompany you to the hospital right now.” “You’re so understanding, you’ll surely understand how hard your husband works, right?” “You even said yesterday that you have experience with having children, and everything will go smoothly without me.” Seeing me look down without speaking, Jake smiled and kissed my forehead. “Be a good girl, I’ll bring you a present when I get back.” With that, Jake left without a backward glance. Watching Jake’s retreating back, this time, I completely gave up hope. I checked the nearest flights to Sterling City and called my best friend. The flight was the night after tomorrow. Once I landed in Sterling City, I would officially bid farewell to everything here. 3 I put on some light makeup to make myself look less haggard. I went to the best law firm in the city, consulting on the divorce procedures and the matter of my daughter’s misdiagnosis leading to her death. For the divorce, the lawyer quickly drafted the papers. However, to pursue Jake and Gisele’s responsibility, more evidence was needed. That evening, I personally prepared a candlelight dinner and opened two bottles of Jake’s prized red wine. When Jake returned home and saw me sitting quietly at the dining table, he first paused, then smiled knowingly. “Ruth, you should leave these things to the housekeeper. You’re my wife; you just need to live in comfort.” He smiled and pulled me into his embrace. We were so close; I could even smell the intoxicating rose perfume, distinctly feminine, on him. I asked Jake when he started wearing such a flamboyant and common perfume. Jake seemed a little guilty. He sniffed his collar, then quickly explained: “Oh, the person I met in the meeting today was the female CEO of the Lunar Group. It’s normal to accidentally get some on me.” “What, Ruth, are you doubting me? Are you still upset that I didn’t go to your prenatal check-up? I’ve already explained it; I thought you would understand.” A person with a guilty conscience is always quick to confess without being prompted. I had only asked a simple question, and I was met with a torrent of accusations. Seeing my silence, Jake changed the subject, pulling out a delicate emerald necklace from his pocket and putting it around my neck. “Ruth, don’t be mad. This is a special gift I brought for you. There’s only one in the world, unique. Do you like it?” The emerald necklace glowed with a dark green luster under the candlelight, utterly beautiful. I ran my fingertips over the cool, smooth necklace. In our six years of marriage, after every cold war, Jake would give me jewelry. But what good were all these treasures when they couldn’t change the fact of his infidelity, couldn’t change the fact that my daughter had been murdered? Seeing that I finally managed a smile, Jake began to sample the meal I had prepared. Jake praised my cooking lavishly. But in the end, he only took a few bites. After all, someone who had already “eaten” elsewhere naturally wouldn’t have an appetite for home-cooked food. During the meal, I plied Jake with several glasses of wine, and he quickly passed out in bed. While Jake was drunk, I secretly slipped into his study, trying to find some evidence that my daughter had been deliberately killed. After a thorough search, I only found a document from six years ago regarding organ transplantation. In the document, Jake had signed the organ transplant contract on my behalf, as my spouse. No wonder Jake had been so eager to marry me back then; it was just so his precious Gisele could recover sooner. I photographed the document, then put it back in its original place, along with the divorce agreement, which I packaged and sent to an email, setting a countdown for it to send. The moment the plane took off, these documents would all be sent to Jake’s inbox. 4 The next day, I was woken by Jake. He’d squeezed toothpaste for me, just like before, and even tried his hand at cooking in the kitchen, looking quite serious about it. As I brushed my teeth, he gently wrapped his arms around my waist from behind: “Ruth, I was wrong. How could I let you go to such an important prenatal check-up alone? How about I go with you today?” Before I could reply, Jake ruffled my hair, smiling shyly and sweetly. Watching Jake busy himself in the kitchen, a wave of bitterness washed over me. Jake, you’re always so inconsistent. Six years. It took me six years to realize I’d never truly seen you. Forget it. I don’t love you anymore, and I don’t need to understand you from now on. When Jake and I arrived at the hospital, Gisele Evans was there too. But Gisele was at the dermatology department. As a popular celebrity, Gisele was surrounded by fans wherever she went. From afar, I could hear the fans whispering: “Poor Gisele, she just recovered from a serious illness two years ago, and now she’s back in the hospital.” “Don’t worry, Gisele will be fine. This hospital is the top hospital in the city.” “And the actual controlling shareholder of this hospital is Jake Hall. He’s our Gisele’s rumored boyfriend, her biggest fan. He’ll definitely use all his power to protect her.” “Wow, a popular celebrity and a CEO, they sound like such a perfect match.” The next second, Gisele’s eyes locked onto Jake in the crowd. She shouted his name. The fans all turned to look at Jake and me. Gisele ran towards Jake, clinging intimately to his arm. “Jay, it’s all your fault for insisting on taking me for king crab yesterday. It gave me allergies. So, are you here to accompany me today specifically? Well, I’ll begrudgingly forgive you then.” Jake glanced at me, then at Gisele. Finally, he smiled and nodded at Gisele. The surrounding fans all looked like they were eating up the drama. I knew, this time, Jake was going to abandon me again. I stared intently at Jake’s face, enunciating each word: “Jake, didn’t you say you were coming with me to my prenatal check-up?” The passersby now looked even more surprised, as if they’d stumbled upon major gossip. A flicker of emotion crossed Jake’s eyes. Just as he was about to step towards me, Gisele pulled him back. The look Gisele gave me no longer held her previous innocence; it was sharp and triumphant. “Jay, isn’t she just your housekeeper? Sending her to the hospital is already generous enough; there’s no need to accompany her for a prenatal check-up.” “If that got out, people would think the baby is yours. It would really damage your reputation and the company’s.” Hearing Gisele’s words, the passersby suddenly understood, looking at me with endless disdain. Jake’s lips moved, but he ultimately didn’t utter a single word in my defense, allowing Gisele to lead him away. Leaving me alone, stunned, in place.

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After six years of silent, thankless sacrifice at a top-secret facility, I was finally granted leave to see my family. My heart pounded with excitement as I drove to my husband’s office building, planning the perfect surprise. But the scene that greeted me froze me in my tracks. My daughter, who was supposed to be in school, was standing timidly in front of a strange woman. The woman was holding the hand of a little boy. I watched, paralyzed, as the woman jabbed a finger in my daughter’s face, screaming at her. Then she slapped my daughter, hard, across the cheek and forced her to her knees to apologize. Seeing my daughter kneeling so submissively, a white-hot rage erupted inside me. I stormed over and slapped the woman back, even harder. My daughter’s face went pale with shock. When she recovered, she frantically urged me to run. “Ma’am, you have to get out of here! That’s my dad’s assistant. She’ll destroy you,” my daughter pleaded, her voice a panicked whisper. I fought to control my fury, my heart aching for her. “She’s just your father’s assistant,” I asked. “How dare she treat you like this? Why did she make you kneel?” My daughter, who hadn’t cried when she was hit, now had red-rimmed eyes. But she wouldn’t say more, just kept telling me to go. The woman staggered to her feet and blocked my path, her voice a venomous shriek. “You’re not going anywhere, you bitch!” “In D.C., Mr. Harrison is a god. And you just slapped his high priestess! You just declared war on heaven!” she added, her face twisted with malice. I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and dialed my husband’s number. “Your assistant says you’re a god in D.C.,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Well, today, I’m tearing your heaven down.” … All I wanted was to ask David Harrison one simple question. How, in the last six years, had he let things get so out of control that his own assistant felt empowered to abuse our child? “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care how you got my number,” my husband’s voice came through the line, cold as ice. “But for that threat alone, no one can save you.” The line went dead. He had hung up before I could say another word. I stood there, phone in hand, utterly stunned. He hadn’t recognized my voice. He hadn’t even recognized my number. This was my old number from six years ago. He hadn’t even saved it. Six years of longing, of dreaming of this reunion, and this was the welcome I received—a slap in the face. Seeing that I’d been hung up on, the assistant’s face twisted into a sneer. “And here I thought you were someone important. Turns out you’re just another nobody who crawled out of the woodwork.” I clenched my fists, the rage inside me a roaring inferno. Any hope that this was all a terrible misunderstanding evaporated, and a cold, heavy stone settled in my gut. Of course. Six years. Six years without a single word, not even a letter. I was in a place so secret it didn’t show up on any satellite imagery, running endless experiments day in and day out. It should have been obvious that he would move on. But before I left, he had promised me. He swore he would take care of our daughter. The daughter I remembered was a bright, smiling girl, who should have been blossoming into a young woman by now. Instead, the child before me was gaunt from malnutrition, a wilting flower on the verge of collapse. The fear in her eyes was a knife twisting in my heart. “Come on,” I said, my own eyes filling with tears as I took her hand. “I’m taking you home.” I would make up for these lost six years. I would make her the happiest princess in the world again. “You hit me, and you threatened Mr. Harrison,” Isabelle, the assistant, said, blocking our path with a smirk. “Did you really think you could just walk away?” “Are you trying to imprison me?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. “Imprison you?” She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “You’re in D.C., and you’re talking to me about freedom? Honey, let me tell you something. In this city, even the air you breathe belongs to the Harrisons!” My expression darkened. All those years, I had dedicated my life to my country. In return, the people I worked for had surely offered David support, helped his career along as a way of compensating for my sacrifice. I never imagined it would turn them into such arrogant monsters. Suddenly, my daughter pulled her hand from mine and dropped to her knees again. “Ms. Isabelle, please,” she begged, “let this lady go. She doesn’t know you or my dad. That’s why she offended you. I’ll apologize for her.” At that moment, the dam broke. The tears I’d been holding back streamed down my face. This was my precious child, the girl whose photograph I held against my chest every night just to be able to sleep. And here she was, kneeling before these two animals. What had I done to her? How much had I failed her these past six years? Isabelle just sneered, but before she could speak, the little boy she was holding piped up, a cruel glint in his eyes. “You want to apologize for her? Fine. The toy you made me drop? I want it clean. Then I’ll let her go.” “Okay, okay, I’ll clean it right now,” my daughter said, quickly picking up the expensive-looking drone. “No water,” the boy added. “I want you to lick it clean. Every last speck of dirt.” The color drained from my daughter’s face. “Noah,” she whispered, “I’m… I’m your sister. How can you ask me to do that?” “Don’t flatter yourself,” he spat. “You’re just the bastard child he had with some dead woman. I’m my parents’ only real child. Are you going to do it or not? If you don’t, I’ll make you regret it.” “I’ll do it!” my daughter cried, glancing at me with a look of pure desperation. Then she turned back, tears streaming down her cheeks, and humiliatingly stuck out her tongue, moving it toward the filthy drone. Just as her tongue was about to touch the dirt-caked plastic, I snatched the drone from her hands and smashed it on the ground. “You’ve gone too far!” I roared, my heart seizing in my chest, my eyes burning with rage. I couldn’t believe it. David hadn’t even divorced me, and he had already remarried and had another child. And I couldn’t believe their child would torture our daughter like this. David Harrison, even if you fell out of love with me, how could you treat Lily this way? “You… you broke my drone?” the little boy stammered, his small face contorting into a shockingly vicious snarl. “Isabelle! I want her dead! Make her pay for my drone with her life!” “You little bitch,” Isabelle screamed. “As if you weren’t in enough trouble already, now you’ve pissed off the young master! Security! Are you all dead? Can’t you see the young master is being bullied?” A group of security guards, who had been lurking in the shadows, exchanged hesitant glances before closing in on me. “Beat her,” Isabelle commanded. “If you kill her, I’ll take the blame.” I managed to block two of them, but a third caught me across the back with a baton, sending me sprawling to the ground. They swarmed me, kicking and punching. The crowd of onlookers just shook their heads and sighed. No one dared to intervene. “That woman has some nerve. Of all the people to mess with, she chose little Noah Harrison.” “Everyone in D.C. knows how much David Harrison dotes on that son of his. She’s finished.” “That’s what you get for playing the hero when you have no power. She has no one to blame but herself.” Some looked on with pity, others with scorn. My daughter tried to shield me with her own body, but Isabelle yanked her away so violently she nearly fell. “Noah, I’ll clean the drone for you now. Please, just make them stop,” my daughter sobbed, picking up the broken toy. She bit her lip, holding back her own pain, and began to carefully lick the pieces clean. Her small tongue worked meticulously, wiping away every trace of dirt. My mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. I struggled to get up, to stop her. “Don’t do it!” “Lily, stop!” Tears streaming down her face, my daughter held out the cleaned drone parts. “It’s clean now. Please, make them stop. They’re going to kill her.” Noah slapped the pieces out of her hand. “You’re disgusting,” he sneered. “It’s covered in your spit. It probably stinks just like you do. I don’t want it anymore.” “But… but you promised,” my daughter whispered, her body trembling. “I promised I’d let her go,” Noah said, a triumphant look on his face. “But Isabelle is the one giving the orders now. And she never promised anything.” My daughter’s face was a mask of despair. She looked at Isabelle, her eyes begging for mercy. Isabelle just smirked, then walked over and gave me a couple of extra kicks for good measure. “The young master is right. She broke his drone. I, for one, am not letting her off the hook.” All the color drained from my daughter’s face. The light in her eyes, once so bright, was extinguished, crushed by the cruelty of the world. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged, pulling Isabelle down to the ground with me. I rained down punches on her, my fists a blur of motion. By the time the guards pulled me off her, her face was a swollen, bruised mess. “Kill her!” she shrieked, a crazed look in her eyes. “Kill her!” Just then, the sound of footsteps approached, followed by a cold, clear voice. “What is going on here?” I looked up, and my eyes met his. David Harrison. Surrounded by an entourage, he strode toward me, his eyes raking over my battered form. A look of sheer disbelief crossed his face. “Evelyn? You’re… you’re alive?”

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1 Three years ago, on a crisp morning, I stood at the entrance of the academy, clad in a uniform white dress. My parents arrived to pick me up, their faces beaming with satisfaction. Dad spread his arms wide, intending to hug me, but I instinctively recoiled. Following Rule Number Three of the “New Life Protocol,” I performed a perfect bow. “Unnecessary contact within three meters of strangers is prohibited,” I recited, my voice devoid of emotion. They liked me this way—every step measured as if with a ruler, my hands primly clasped in front of me. They liked this rigid version of me. But they’d forgotten the girl I used to be, the most vibrant child in the family. That was before my brother, Richard, was born. After that, every action of mine was deemed a threat to him. I remember his first birthday. I’d spent an entire month, meticulously collecting thousands of parts, to build him a singing castle. The moment it activated, the dazzling lights and mechanical whirring terrified him, making him burst into tears. That night, Dad smashed my castle to pieces, and Mom slapped me for the first time. The next day, I was sent to this secluded institution, ironically named “New Beginnings Academy,” which promised to “remake” children. “Director Feldman, there’s something wrong with my daughter’s mind. Please, make her ‘normal’,” Dad’s eyes were as cold as a winter’s frost back then. He even pledged ten million dollars to the academy and covered all of Feldman’s son’s advanced education expenses. Now, they were finally pleased, because I was “normal.” … Dad’s outstretched arms froze in mid-air. The smile on his face slowly vanished, leaving only bewilderment. Mom hurried over, pulling his arm down firmly, a forced smile plastered on her face. “Look at Eleanor, she’s so well-mannered now, isn’t that wonderful?” She tried to take my hand. I stepped back again, maintaining a three-meter distance. Mom’s smile completely froze. Dad’s face darkened, but he spoke with forced patience: “Eleanor, stop messing around. Let’s go home with Mom and Dad.” I didn’t move, just stared at them expressionlessly. After a full minute, I nodded. “Directive confirmed: Return home.” I turned, my steps precise, each one perfectly identical to the last. They followed silently behind me. The car stopped in front of a familiar villa, but I felt nothing. They led me into a room. Pure white walls, pure white sheets, pure white desk. Aside from necessities, the room held no superfluous decorations. It resembled a high-end hospital room. Dad spoke with a hint of eagerness: “Eleanor, look, your new room. You always complained your old one was messy. You’ll definitely like this.” I scanned the room, then nodded. “Complies with Appendix Two of the ‘New Life Protocol’: Environmental cleanliness standards.” A muscle twitched in Dad’s face. Dinner time. I sat at the dining table, back ramrod straight, hands resting on my lap. Once dinner began, I picked up my chopsticks, only selecting the greens directly in front of me. The number of chews, the timing of sips of water – all strictly adhered to an invisible standard. Mom watched me, her eyes filled with an unspoken heartache. She placed a piece of braised pork into my bowl, piling it up. “Eleanor, you used to love this. Try some.” I put down my chopsticks. Then, right in front of her, I picked up the piece of meat and placed it on an empty side plate. I looked up at her instantly pale face, and calmly recited. “‘New Life Protocol,’ Rule Number Seven: Reject unrequested offerings to curb greed.” “You don’t have to follow those damn rules at home!” Dad finally lost his temper, slamming his hand on the table as he roared. I turned my gaze to him, my eyes utterly devoid of emotion. “Protocols are life. They cannot be violated.” The air was dead silent. Just then, a small boy in an action hero-themed pajama set waddled over. He held up a red action figure, offering it to me. “Ellie, play with me.” It was Richard. I immediately stood from my chair, swiftly stepping back two paces, widening the distance between us. “‘New Life Protocol,’ Rule Number Nineteen: Prohibit contact with entertainment items prone to addiction.” My reaction was swift and mechanical. Four-year-old Richard was startled. He froze, his mouth downturned, and then he burst into a loud sob. His sharp cry pierced the quiet of the dining room. Three years ago, a similar cry led to Dad smashing my castle. History was repeating itself. Mom’s face instantly twisted into an ugly mask. Without thinking, she yelled at me. “You again!” Her voice was shrill, brimming with fury. But when her gaze met my empty eyes, the fire seemed to be doused with a bucket of ice water. Her mouth hung open, the rest of her angry words caught in her throat, replaced by a chill that rose from the depths of her soul. Dad impatiently scooped up the wailing Richard, waving a dismissive hand. “That’s enough! Go back to your room for now!” I didn’t argue. “Directive received.” I turned, my steps measured as if by a ruler, and left the dining room. Behind me, Richard’s incessant crying, and my parents’ increasingly heavy breaths. They had finally gotten a “perfect” daughter. A daughter who was absolutely obedient, absolutely compliant. 2 The next day, Dad tried to compensate me with material things. He bought a brand-new LEGO set, with thousands of pieces. It was the “Star Fortress,” something I used to dream about. He pushed the huge box towards me, a hint of expectation in his eyes. “Eleanor, look, Dad bought this for you.” I walked over, my gaze lingering on the box for three seconds. Then I calmly picked it up, walked to the storage cabinet, and placed it on the highest, most inaccessible shelf. I turned around, meeting his bewildered stare. “‘New Life Protocol,’ Rule Number Fifteen: Prohibit unnecessary complex creative activities to prevent divergent thinking.” Dad’s face instantly turned ashen. The gift he had spent an entire night snatching up was now treated by me like a contraband item to be sealed away. Mom, on the other hand, tried to awaken me with emotions. She pulled out a thick photo album and beckoned to me, wanting me to sit beside her. I remained seated. Seeing this, Mom had no choice but to hold the album up to my face, then pointed at one of the pictures. “Eleanor, look, this is you. So adorable.” In the photo, an eight or nine-year-old girl, wearing a paint-stained T-shirt, smiled brightly at the camera, a little cream still clinging to her teeth. I looked at the photo she pointed to, showing no reaction. After half a minute, I nodded. “Data confirmed: Individual is Eleanor Hayes. Time: Ninth birthday.” I paused, then added. “Emotional response module not activated.” Mom’s hand, holding the album, began to tremble. She looked at Dad for help. Dad’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing. That afternoon, Richard was chasing a rubber ball in the living room. He slipped, falling forward, his knee hitting the corner of the coffee table with a thud. “Wah—” A heart-wrenching cry erupted, and blood instantly seeped from his knee. “Richard!” Mom and Dad cried out in alarm, about to rush over. But I was faster. My body activated like an emergency robot, springing into action instantly. I rushed to the medicine cabinet, opened it, and retrieved iodine, cotton swabs, and a band-aid. The entire process was seamless. I quickly walked to Richard, and knelt down. Richard was sobbing uncontrollably, looking at me with fear. I spoke in a flat voice: “Initiating emergency medical procedure. Step one: Cleanse wound.” My fingers were steady as surgical clamps, precisely dipping a cotton swab into iodine and wiping his bleeding wound. I wiped it ten times, changing the swab every five wipes. The wound was irritated, and Richard cried harder, his body starting to squirm. “Directive: Remain still.” I spoke coldly. Richard seemed startled by my voice; his crying paused, and he actually stopped moving. I quickly cleaned, disinfected, and applied the band-aid. After finishing, I stood up and reported to my stunned parents. “Procedure complete. Wound depth approximately two millimeters, length three centimeters.” “Recommend twenty-four-hour observation to prevent infection.” Having said that, I turned to clean the used medical tools. Only Richard’s muffled sobs remained in the living room. Mom looked at my meticulous back, her lips trembling, and finally spoke. “You used to… even if he just scraped his knee, you’d cry harder than him…” I stopped what I was doing and looked back at her. My eyes were empty, as if analyzing an incomprehensible word. “Cry?” I tilted my head, seemingly searching my database for this directive. A few seconds later, I provided the answer. “Database contains no relevant directive.” At that moment, I clearly saw fear, for the first time, creep onto their faces. They were finally starting to realize. What they had personally erased was not just my so-called “flaws.” But also my “humanity.” 3 Late at night. I lay on the pure white bed, my body trapped in an invisible cage. Nightmares surged like a tide. “Subject 734, violating solitude protocol, thinking thoughts unrelated to regulations.” “Punishment… waterboarding…” “No… don’t…” “Alert, alert! Emotional fluctuation exceeding limit! Initiating electric shock…” I began to struggle violently in bed, my forehead slick with cold sweat, teeth clenched, uttering incoherent murmurs. “Pain… I’m sorry…” My parents, in the adjacent room, were woken. They rushed into my room, flicked on the light, and saw me in such agony. “Eleanor!” Mom cried out, tears instantly streaming down her face, her heart aching. She rushed to the bedside, reaching out to hug me, to wipe the cold sweat from my forehead. “Don’t be scared, Eleanor, Mommy’s here, Mommy’s here…” The moment her hand touched my skin. I snapped my eyes open. Those eyes, no longer holding the blankness of daytime, were filled with pure, extreme terror and pain. Like a cornered wild animal. “Alert! Alert! Violating ‘New Life Protocol’ Rule Number Three! Unnecessary contact with a stranger!” I used all my strength, pushing her away. “Initiating Level Two Punishment!” The piercing alarm seemed to ring only in my mind. I shot up from the bed, clutching my head tightly with both hands, my body beginning to convulse violently and uncontrollably. My teeth gnashed audibly, and a guttural, beast-like groan escaped my throat. It was a pure, physiological reaction to pain. Mom and Dad were utterly stunned by the scene before them. They stood frozen, watching me convulse and spasm on the bed, yet not daring to take a step closer. A few seconds, yet it felt like centuries. The convulsions suddenly stopped. I released my hands from my head, slowly sat upright, as straight as a spear. The eyes that had just been filled with pain and terror once again became a dead, empty void. As if that fierce struggle just now had been nothing but a hallucination. I looked up, meeting their horrified gazes, and said in a frighteningly calm voice: “System malfunction resolved.” “Please leave. It is rest time.” Dad’s lips trembled; he couldn’t utter a single word. Mom collapsed onto the floor, looking at me, so utterly different, a chilling dread spreading from her feet to the top of her head. The hell they had personally created, named “discipline.” Dad spent the entire night in the living room, calling Director Feldman, but no one answered. It wasn’t until nine the next morning that the call finally went through. “Director Feldman! What the hell did you do to my daughter?!” “What is that punishment mechanism!?” On the other end of the line, Director Feldman’s voice sounded genteel, even with a hint of a smile. “Mr. Hayes, calm down. That’s our latest ‘deep sleep therapy,’ guiding the subconscious to correct undesirable behaviors. Occasional rejection reactions are quite normal.” “Normal? She was convulsing like a madwoman! Yelling ‘electric shock’! ‘Waterboarding’!” Dad’s voice trembled with rage. The laughter on the other end ceased, and Director Feldman’s tone instantly turned cold. “Mr. Hayes, you personally requested that we use the most efficient and thorough methods to make her ‘normal’ in the first place.” Dad’s breath hitched. Director Feldman continued unhurriedly, his voice like a venomous snake. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. My son just received a full scholarship to MIT and will be leaving next month.” “We owe that entirely to your generous ten-million-dollar donation, Mr. Hayes.” “Our whole family remembers this kindness.” Naked blackmail. He used his son’s future, and that ten-million-dollar “donation,” to silence all of Dad’s questions. Dad slammed the phone down with a bang. I heard the muffled thud of his fist hitting the table, and his repressed, animalistic gasps. He was caught in the grip of the monster he had personally created. Meanwhile, Mom was frantic. She frantically searched online for any information about “New Beginnings Academy.” Aside from a torrent of glowing reviews on their official website, she found nothing. Just as she was about to despair, she finally discovered an encrypted parent forum. She paid someone to crack the password. Inside, was a hell entirely different from the official website. Line after line, word after word, were accusations of blood and tears.

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That day, I sat on the judges’ panel of a music competition show, my identity as the biggest investor concealed. My secretary suddenly sent me a screenshot of a social media post. The poster was my wife, Rora—the reigning queen of pop—who had blocked me long ago. The caption read, “Only the greatest stage is worthy of my shining star.” The accompanying photo showed a young man, smiling and flashing a peace sign at the camera. I had just saved the screenshot, ready to text her a furious question, when the very same young man from the photo walked onto the stage. Pinned to his chest was the antique brooch I had won at an auction for five million dollars. And the song he was singing was the love ballad I had written for my wife. I thought for a moment, then raised my phone, recorded a clip of the performance, and sent it to Rora. “Honey, you didn’t tell me you were taking my things to do charity work.” I followed up with another text. “If I were to misunderstand and sue him for theft and copyright infringement, his career would be over before it even began, wouldn’t it?” The moment I hit send, the stage lights went black. A single spotlight hit a corner of the auditorium. Rora, holding a bouquet of flowers, walked gracefully toward the young man. Without a second’s hesitation, I took off my mask. I smiled at the adoring couple on stage. “Darling,” I called out, my voice carrying through the silent venue, “when did you announce your new relationship?” 1 A collective gasp swept through the audience. Rora’s face turned into a mask of pure horror. I acted as if I hadn’t noticed, my smile never wavering as I waited for her answer. “Mr… Mr. Vaughn, you must be joking.” “Isn’t Rora single?” The host, having barely regained his composure, scrambled to smooth things over. A songwriter on the panel next to me also chimed in. “Exactly. Rora has been in the industry for years without a single scandal. She’s completely dedicated to her music.” “That global hit she released a while back? She spent six months in seclusion writing it. Where would she find the time for romance?” “Besides, she treats her fans like family. If she got married, she would never hide something that huge from them!” He then turned warmly to Rora. “Rora, is this contestant your protégé? I was just thinking how similar his musical style is to yours!” It seemed that in all the commotion, he hadn’t quite heard what I’d said. I picked up my microphone, raising my voice just enough to be clear. “Honey, when did you take on a student? You never even told me.” “And you still haven’t answered my question.” Rora unclenched her fists, forcing a stiff smile. “No, Kai is just a new trainee at the company. We just get along well. I happened to have some free time today, so I stopped by to watch.” She stammered through her excuse. Faced with a sea of confused and probing eyes from the audience, she finally bit the bullet. “I’m sorry to take up everyone’s time.” “Allow me to introduce my husband—Alexander Vaughn.” The revelation that Rora was secretly married sent a shockwave through the venue. Her guilty eyes refused to meet mine. She kept her head down and asked, “Honey, would you like to come up so everyone can meet you?” I didn’t let her squirm for long. As everyone stared in disbelief, I walked confidently onto the stage to stand beside her. “Hello, everyone,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m Rora’s non-celebrity husband, Alexander.” Just as Rora let out a sigh of relief, I turned to the boy, Kai, my expression one of polite curiosity. “You must be a new trainee this year, right? That song wasn’t bad. Did you write it yourself? What was your inspiration? Would you mind sharing it with us?” The color drained from Kai’s face. He shot a panicked look at Rora, silently begging for help. Rora, thinking she was being subtle, gave him a sharp, warning glance. Kai flinched, then bowed his head meekly. “The… the inspiration for the song came from a little melody that Ms. Rora was humming one day. There might be some similarities.” “It was my mistake! I… I’ll withdraw from the competition voluntarily. I’ll post a public apology to Ms. Rora right away. I’m so sorry!” With that, his eyes reddened, and he gave me a deep, formal bow. His pitiful act made Rora tug at my sleeve, her heart clearly going out to him. But I didn’t back down. In that brief moment our eyes had met, I had seen the undisguised malice in his. I turned to look at Rora, letting Kai remain bent over in his bow. “Darling, you know how possessive I am.” My gaze, a mix of amusement and ice, landed on the brooch pinned to Kai’s chest. “Whether it’s a brooch or anything else… everything that’s mine always finds its way back to me, doesn’t it?” “After all, if some shortsighted little thief were to fall into my hands, the price they’d have to pay would be far from simple.” “Ghastly” didn’t even begin to describe the look on Rora’s face. She grabbed my hand, her voice tight. “Alex, let’s just go. We shouldn’t hold up the show.” 2 The driver, sensing the mood, discreetly raised the partition in the car. I stared coldly at Rora. “Explain yourself.” She grabbed my hand, her voice desperate. “Alex, I swear, there’s nothing going on between us!” “I just saw how hardworking he is, how much he reminded me of myself when I was starting out. I was moved, that’s all. I just lent him a piece of jewelry to help him make an impression.” I let out a cold laugh. “He’s a new kid with no money and no endorsements. I have no problem with you helping him out.” “But that song… I poured my heart and soul into writing that song for you. You had no right to give it to someone else.” “Tomorrow, I’ll have my secretary confirm this with his manager. From now on, he can work his way up like every other trainee—on his own.” I looked down at her, my voice low as I delivered my final verdict. “As for you, make sure he returns everything that belongs to me by tomorrow. And cut off all contact with him.” “You are not to have anything to do with him ever again.” Rora’s face went from white to red. “Alex, you still don’t believe that there’s nothing…” I cut off her pathetic excuse, my gaze drilling into her. “Rora, I am not a fool.” “Why would I ever believe that a man my wife blocked me over is ‘just a friend’?” She opened her mouth to argue, but then slumped in defeat. “I understand,” she finally conceded. “Alex, I won’t see him again.” I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. The next day, when I came home from work, Kai had indeed returned everything. And on the display shelf in our walk-in closet sat a new pair of ruby cufflinks. Rora stood nearby, watching my expression nervously. “Alex, I’ve already deleted all of Kai’s contact information.” “These cufflinks are a new limited edition from your favorite designer. Please, just forgive me this once, okay?” She wrapped her arms around mine, her voice a sweet, cloying purr—a world away from the cool, sophisticated diva the public knew. Seeing her submissive attitude, most of my anger subsided. I didn’t say anything more. As soon as Rora went to take a shower, a friend request popped up on my phone. It was Kai. I had no idea how he got my private number. I was about to ignore it and head to my study to work when another request came through. This time, it wasn’t the default message. It was a long paragraph. [Mr. Vaughn, you can’t possibly think that just because you have money, you can force a woman who doesn’t love you to stay with you, do you?] [Even if you force Rora to take back your stupid brooch, I can get her to give me other things.] [Don’t get too comfortable. One day, you’ll be the one crying while you watch us together!] I read the defiant words, a cold smile touching my lips as my eyes hardened. So this little clown wasn’t just an idiot. He was a venomous snake who didn’t know his place. I slowly typed out my reply. [You should learn your place. You’re a homewrecker. Rora and I are legally married.] [If you’re skilled enough to get her to spend our money on you during our marriage, that’s your talent.] [But if she does, I can sue you for malicious appropriation of marital assets. My firm’s legal team will not only make you pay back every single cent with interest, but they will also utterly destroy your reputation.] [And when that happens, a public apology and a little show of weakness won’t be enough to save you.] The chat window on his end went silent. No more friend requests came through. I quickly put the matter out of my mind. I’d seen plenty of little parasites like him, trying to claw their way up by destroying other people’s marriages. Men far more clever than him had failed spectacularly. What chance did he have? But the next day, in the middle of a morning meeting at my company, my phone began to ring insistently. 3 It was my mother. “Alex, your father was admitted to the hospital again this morning. His old issues.” “Your sister is filming in the mountains and I can’t reach her. The doctors have scheduled surgery for this afternoon. Can you and Rora come?” My father’s health had been declining for years. Hospital visits for his high blood pressure were common. My mother only ever called us when it was serious. “Don’t worry, Mom,” I said instantly. “We’ll be right there.” I gave instructions to my secretary as I texted Rora. [Rora, where are you?] [Dad is having surgery this afternoon. I don’t want Mom to be alone. I’ll pick you up and we can go together.] She replied almost immediately. [Alex, please tell Mom and Dad I’m so sorry. I have to re-record a part for a song I did last month. The producer is on a tight deadline. I can’t get away.] Her tone was apologetic. She added another message. [I’ll try to be as quick as I can. The second I’m done, I’ll head straight to the hospital.] I knew how much her career meant to her, so I replied with an understanding “Okay.” My mother and I sat in the waiting room while my father was in surgery. Suddenly, she pointed to a figure across the corridor. “Alex,” she said, uncertainly, “does that look like Rora to you?” I frowned and followed her gaze. It was Rora. Even from the back, I recognized the custom-made dress I had helped her pick out just two days before. She and Kai were pushing a woman in a wheelchair. The woman was holding Rora’s hand, laughing and chatting happily. I forced down a surge of rage and changed the subject with a smile. “Mom, you’re mistaken. Rora just texted me. She’s out of town. There’s no way she could be here.” My mother nodded, accepting my explanation. My father came out of surgery safely. Once I had them both settled in his room, I drove home, my foot heavy on the accelerator. On the way, I sent Rora a text. “Rora. Be home in thirty minutes. I want to see you there.” Her call came almost instantly. “Alex, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not done with the recording. How could I possibly fly back…” “The same way you flew to the hospital is how you’re going to fly home!” My voice was glacial, leaving no room for argument. Rora paused, then stammered an excuse. “Kai’s mother twisted her ankle this morning walking her dog. I… I had a car, so I just…” “I don’t want to hear your excuses.” I cut her off. “Thirty minutes. I want to see you at home.” To my shock, she refused without a moment’s hesitation. “Alex, not this time. Kai can’t leave his mother, and I still need to get them dinner.” “I know Dad’s out of surgery and he’s safe. I promise I’ll go and apologize to him properly tomorrow.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “Rora, if you are choosing an outsider over—” Before I could finish, the line went dead. I called back immediately, only to be met with the cold, robotic voice of her voicemail. My hands were shaking with rage. It took every ounce of my self-control not to smash the phone against the car window. Late that night, my secretary sent me a screenshot of Kai’s social media. [Outsiders, please don’t disturb~ My girl had to turn off her phone just to protect our happy little family time!] The picture was of Rora’s back as she unpacked containers of food from a thermal bag by a hospital bed. Rora, who hated the smell of cooking so much that we never used our own kitchen, was now personally serving a meal for someone else. My anger burned so hot it turned to ice. I called my secretary, my voice eerily calm. “Cancel all of Rora’s upcoming engagements that the company secured for her. And pull all funding for her team.” Then, I saved the screenshot from Kai’s post and logged into my company’s official social media account. [Help. My wife blew off her father-in-law’s surgery to cook for her boy toy, then blocked me. How would you handle this?] The post was like a drop of water in a vat of boiling oil. [Wait, if I remember correctly, isn’t this Alexander the guy Rora just officially announced she was married to? So the one cheating is…] [I knew something was off at that show. A star of her level wouldn’t be fawning over some no-name trainee unless there was something in it for her.] [Has his account been hacked? We need an official statement! Our queen would never be that kind of woman!] Within a minute of posting, the comments and shares exploded exponentially. My own inbox was a war zone. Friends, family, business rivals—everyone was messaging me. Just as my notifications hit 99+, Rora’s calls started coming in, one after another. I looked at the name “Honey” flashing on the screen, declined the call, and blocked her number.

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1 I am the world’s last Restoration Master, known for healing severe injuries to at least ninety percent of their original state. Yet, I fear and hate this power because of my past life. Back then, old Mr. Grenier paid me a fortune to heal his granddaughter Daisy, who was disfigured in a fire. After six months of work, her looks improved noticeably. His grandson Jason started pursuing me, and Daisy begged me to marry him. I believed they were truly grateful. But on my wedding night, Jason set the bridal chamber on fire, trying to burn me alive. He screamed that I was a fraud—modern medicine could have healed Daisy completely. He blamed me for the death of a girl named Lily, claiming she’d died in despair after I refused to help her. “Let’s see you restore yourself when you’re a charred corpse!” he snarled. Outside, Daisy laughed and shouted, “If not for you, Lily would have cured me! Go to hell!” I burned to ashes, filled with rage. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day old Mr. Grenier first came, offering his bounty to save Daisy. This time, I just shook my head. “I’m sorry, but her burns are too severe. I can’t restore her face. You should find someone else.” … Old Mr. Grenier seemed to age several years in an instant upon hearing my words. He had exhausted all his resources, consulted the most authoritative experts, yet Daisy Grenier’s appearance remained utterly terrifying. If I didn’t help, Daisy would truly have to live with that face for the rest of her life. “Daisy is my only granddaughter. She has always been so fond of her beauty since childhood. If you don’t step in, Daisy’s life will be ruined.” He looked as if he wanted to kneel directly before me, but I quickly helped him up. Before me, Daisy’s face was horrific, her body covered in scars from surgeries, and her once slender fingers were fused together by the intense heat. In my previous life, I had exerted tremendous effort to restore ninety percent of her appearance. By the later stages, her face and body looked no different from before. Just then, Jason burst through the door, pulling Lily Bell with him, his gaze towards me filled with intense disdain. “Grandpa, this Willow Grey is nothing but a quack! Modern medicine is so advanced, why do we need to beg her?” He quickly pulled Lily in front of old Mr. Grenier, speaking earnestly. “Lily is the one who can save Daisy. She’s already a renowned plastic surgeon in the industry, and she can effortlessly restore Daisy’s appearance to its original state!” “Grandpa, do you want a perfect Daisy or a ninety-percent restored Daisy?” In the last life, Jason never even appeared at my doorstep. Had he also reincarnated? As his words fell, old Mr. Grenier looked at Lily with hopeful eyes. Everyone present had more or less heard of Lily Bell’s reputation as a stoic, goddess-like healer, so their gazes at her held more trust. Lily curled a confident smile. “Of course, I’ve healed more severe injuries than Miss Daisy’s.” “Besides, Miss Daisy is Jason’s sister, so I’ll do everything in my power to restore Miss Daisy’s appearance to its original state.” As she spoke, she looked at me triumphantly. I merely chuckled. “Mr. Grenier, since you’ve found someone who can help your granddaughter, I’ll take my leave.” Jason scoffed as I turned to leave: “Willow Grey, playing hard to get again, are we? This life, Lily will not only save Daisy, but she’ll completely restore Daisy’s appearance.” “If it weren’t for you in the last life, how could Daisy’s face only be restored to ninety percent?!” “You’re nothing but a quack trying to climb the social ladder. Don’t even dream of marrying into the Grenier family this life.” “Evil people like you should suffer all the pain Lily did in the last life.” He whispered, spewing venomous words into my ear. But in the last life, Lily Bell was never assaulted; it was all a play she orchestrated herself to ruin me. Besides, it wasn’t me trying to climb the social ladder; it was Jason who desperately begged me to marry him. With Lily Bell’s medical skills, restoring Daisy Grenier to even thirty percent would be a struggle. Recalling Daisy Grenier’s sinister grin in the previous life, laughing outside the raging fire and urging it to burn fiercer, I turned and left the Grenier mansion. This life, I wouldn’t save her again. 2 As I left the Grenier estate, I saw the very men who had intended to assault Lily Bell in my previous life. They grinned lecherously, surrounding me. “We haven’t had a taste of a Restoration Master yet.” “She looks quite well-endowed, I wonder what she tastes like.” They grabbed my limbs, pinning me firmly to the ground. One by one, my clothes were stripped off, and I struggled to push them away. Seeing my struggle, their actions became even more brutal. Why did they suddenly appear here? Why did they know I was a Restoration Master? I suddenly realized something and looked towards the Grenier mansion’s main gate, incredulously. Jason gently covered Lily Bell’s eyes, watching my humiliated state with a cold sneer. “Lily, don’t look. It’s not for kids. Don’t stain your eyes.” The hatred in my heart spread like a vine throughout my entire body. In the previous life, he blamed me for everything Lily suffered, leading to my fiery death. In this life, he was even finding people to ruin my innocence! Tears of humiliation welled in my eyes. I planned to use the poison needles hidden on my body to kill them. This was the Restoration Master’s last resort for survival, a method not to be used unless in utter despair. Stripped down to just my inner garment, I gathered my strength to strike. The next second, the Miller family suddenly appeared. The leading bodyguards kicked those men away with swift precision. Jason frowned in displeasure when he saw who it was. “Leo, why are you here?” “What are you doing here? Haven’t your sister caused enough trouble for mine?!” Leo ignored him. Who was truly harming whom was clear to everyone present. If Daisy Grenier hadn’t playfully set the fire, how would young Miss Miller have suffered such an unwarranted disaster? Leo hurried to my side, gently helping me up, his tone utterly sincere. “Healer Grey, please, save my sister.” No sooner had he spoken than Jason interjected, his voice dripping with mockery. “You call her a healer? Leo, are you out of your mind? There’s only one true healer, and that’s Lily.” “Let this Willow Grey save your sister? I’m afraid your sister will never be able to look in a mirror again.” “Willow Grey, you’re truly ruthless in your pursuit of marrying into a wealthy family. Disgusting! Seducing me wasn’t enough, now you’re trying to seduce Leo?” Hearing Jason’s comments, Leo quickly shielded me. A cold voice rang out. “Mr. Grenier, you should accumulate some good karma for your sister. Is Healer Grey someone you can slander?” “Whether my sister can look in a mirror again, I don’t know, but your sister likely won’t be able to.” With that, his eyes reddened, and he again pleaded with me to save his sister. I silently recalled his sister’s injuries from the previous life, gaining confidence. His sister, Luna Miller, was not as severely injured as Daisy Grenier. In the previous life, he had also desperately begged me to save his sister, but each time Daisy Grenier had obstructed me in every possible way. Only after I died did I learn. Before the injury, Luna Miller was significantly prettier than Daisy Grenier. Daisy had long disliked Luna. Later, when Daisy’s appearance was restored by ninety percent, she daily taunted Luna, calling her incredibly ugly. A month after that, in the previous life, it was Daisy Grenier’s birthday. She deliberately feigned reconciliation and invited Luna Miller to her birthday party, deceiving Luna into believing no one else would be there. It wasn’t until Luna arrived at the party in a wheelchair that she realized all the prominent figures in the city had gathered there. Ultimately, Luna, unable to bear the strange looks and insults from everyone, committed suicide at home. Until her death, she blamed no one, only mumbling, “I shouldn’t disgrace the Miller family.” Thinking of this, I slowly spoke. “Jason, do you dare to make a bet with me?” “We’ll bet on who dares to show their face at Daisy Grenier’s birthday party a month from now.” 3 “I’m putting my entire fortune plus my Restoration Art on the line against you. Do you dare?” Lily Bell’s eyes flashed with a hint of brilliance when she heard me bet my Restoration Art. But soon, her expression turned disdainful. “How much is your fortune worth? And your Restoration Art might not even be as good as my medical skills.” “Jason, this wager isn’t fair at all.” Jason affectionately ruffled Lily Bell’s head: “It’s just for fun. Ten million, I bet Willow Grey loses.” Lily Bell snuggled coquettishly into Jason’s embrace, pouting sweetly: “Oh, you. Ten million is enough to buy her life. Jason, don’t bully her.” I sneered. “Ten million? Does Mr. Grenier think your own sister is only worth ten million?” “One job for me is worth more than ten million.” “I’ll offer one hundred million. Mr. Grenier, are you in?” Hearing me say this, Jason’s eyes showed strong displeasure, and Lily Bell was so angered her chest heaved. Before Jason could speak, Lily Bell confidently placed his wager. “Of course, we’re in. You’re humiliating Daisy like this, you’re openly challenging the entire Grenier family. We’ll bet one percent of Grenier Industries.” No sooner had she spoken than I burst out laughing. “One percent? Are you trying to pay off a beggar?” Upon hearing my words, Lily Bell’s face turned green then white. “One percent of Grenier Industries is worth at least half a billion! Let’s see if you can match that!” Leo, who had been silent beside me, gently pulled my hand. Then he said, “I’ll bet ten percent of Miller Corporation. Mr. Grenier, are you in?” I wanted to stop him, but he gave me a reassuring look, “There’s a high chance Daisy Grenier caused my sister to be like this. I’ve wanted to get revenge for my sister for a long time. Besides, I trust your skills, Healer Grey.” “Let’s go, saving my sister is the priority.” My heart warmed. Jason looked coldly at Leo, his desire to win almost clouding his judgment. But he still had a sliver of rationality left. Many people were recording with their phones right now; this bet was no joke. As he hesitated, Lily Bell confidently accepted the wager. “Fine, ten percent it is. Willow Grey, I look forward to the day your reputation is ruined and you’re begging on the streets!” Seeing Lily Bell’s confident demeanor, Jason felt much relieved. Jason and I quickly signed the agreement. Before leaving, Jason didn’t forget to mock me from behind. “Willow Grey, being a Healer isn’t for just anyone. I truly look forward to the day your name is dragged through the mud.” I actually agreed with his last statement. Indeed, being a Healer isn’t for just anyone. Upon arriving at the Miller mansion. Luna Miller lay quietly in bed, the Miller family standing by her bedside, all showing looks of heartache. The doctors had done their utmost to repair her, yet they still couldn’t restore Luna to the level of a normal person. I sent everyone away, took a photo of Luna from Leo, and then began the restoration process for Luna. Throughout that entire month, Jason proudly shared Daisy Grenier’s recovery progress with me every day. “I told you Lily’s medical skills are far superior to your so-called Restoration Art!” “Look at my Daisy, she’s about to recover to her original appearance.” “If you admit defeat now, then strip naked and stand in front of Grenier Industries with a sign shouting you’re a whore and a fraud, I can pretend this bet never happened.” I scoffed. Jason hadn’t even noticed that Daisy Grenier’s hands and feet had turned into fleshy lumps, with no trace of finger bones, and even her face had only temporarily rejuvenated. It seemed I had overestimated Lily Bell’s ability to restore Daisy Grenier’s appearance to thirty percent.

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I was the publicly acknowledged girlfriend of Jensen Rutherford, the Rutherford heir. For five years, our love was a whirlwind, a blazing inferno. During the taping of a panel show, the host posed a popular question: “What’s your partner’s ‘get out of jail free’ card?” Without thinking, I blurted out, “His face.” That night, I trended on social media with the hashtag #SiennaTheUltimateFaceLover. Even when he was photographed kissing a starlet on a beach, even when they were seen entering a hotel together, my lovesick brain took over. I made a public declaration: “I’ll never break up with him. I’d die without him.” Just when everyone thought I would remain that pathetically devoted forever, Jensen suddenly changed. He cut ties with all the women on the side. He even knelt in the old Rutherford family chapel for three days and nights, vowing to give up his inheritance just to marry me. Everyone was calling it the prodigal son’s return. The truth didn’t come out until the day I went to the cemetery to pay my respects and a paparazzo’s snapshot went viral. In the photo, I was kneeling before a tombstone. The inscription read: “In loving memory of my husband, Bryce Rutherford.” And the portrait etched into the stone was a dead ringer for Jensen. The night he learned he was nothing but a substitute, Jensen Rutherford almost threw himself off a rooftop. 1 When Jensen and I first met, he was fresh off a breakup with his first love. The girl, Giselle, had squared her jaw and shouted at him, “I’m the leading lady of my own life! I don’t need some damn man to write my story!” Then she flew off to Europe to study acting. Downstairs from his own company’s headquarters, Jensen found me. I was the picture of innocence, a delicate flower. I bore a striking resemblance to Giselle back when she was just starting out. Jensen only asked me three questions. “What’s your name?” “Are you single?” “Want to be my girlfriend? Money and connections are yours for the taking.” In the beginning, Jensen’s friends mocked me endlessly. “You’re just a placeholder while Giselle’s away. You really think a guy like Jensen would give you a second look otherwise?” Giselle’s fans were just as vicious. “Two-bit homewrecker! The second our queen comes back, you’ll be the first one he kicks to the curb!” Their fury was fueled by the fact that Jensen had taken all the resources once poured into Giselle’s career and handed them to me. Giselle, seething, posted a passive-aggressive message on her social media: “Some stand-ins shouldn’t get too comfortable. What isn’t yours will eventually be taken back.” Countless netizens waited for the drama to unfold. “There’s no true love in high society. This girl’s just gonna milk him for all he’s worth and then bolt.” But five years passed. I never asked Jensen for a single dime. When he fell ill on a business trip, I dropped everything and flew overseas to take care of him myself. By the time he recovered, I had collapsed from exhaustion. When rumors swirled about him and some influencer, I didn’t even ask for an explanation before issuing a public statement: “I trust Jensen. I will always stand by him.” Slowly, everyone, including Jensen himself, became convinced that I was deeply, irrevocably in love with him. Even his buddies changed their tune, finally starting to call me by my name with a hint of respect. One of them even pulled him aside. “Dude, just settle down with Sienna. If I had someone who treated me like that, I’d know I’d made it in life.” That evening, at the villa in Crestwood Hills, Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as we looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. “Sienna,” he murmured, “maybe we should…” Maybe we should get married. He never finished the sentence. His phone shattered the moment, ringing loud and shrill. It was Giselle, her voice thick with tears. “Jensen… if I said I regret it, is it too late?” Jensen didn’t answer with words. He just let go of me and bolted out the door, so fast he didn’t even stop to change out of his slippers. Later that night, Giselle posted a new photo. The caption: Found what was lost. The picture was of two hands, fingers tightly interlaced. On Jensen’s hand, he was still wearing the matching ring I’d given him. 2 The years away from Jensen had been hard on Giselle. She couldn’t land any roles, lost all her endorsements, and nearly fell victim to the casting couch. She learned the hard way how cruel the world could be and decided she wanted to be that coddled little girl again. The moment she and Jensen reconciled, she came after my resources. My agent, Anna, was furious, cursing him out all night. “You’re his girlfriend! Technically, she’s the other woman here! What gives her the right to be so damn arrogant?” I knew Jensen didn’t love me. But that was fine. His love was never what I was after. At an industry dinner, a few braver souls, convinced I was about to be dumped, cornered me and started pushing drinks on me. Jensen heard what was happening and stormed in. He beat them so badly their own mothers wouldn’t have recognized them. I looked at him, and for a moment, the world blurred. Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them. Jensen, thinking I was scared, pulled me into his arms, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s okay, Sienna. Don’t be afraid. No matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” My past was a rough one. I’d grown up fighting to protect myself. A few greasy industry types weren’t enough to make me cry. It was the way he stood up for me, so fierce and protective. It was just like the man in my dreams. 3 Jensen’s friends tried to comfort me. “See, Sienna? He really cares about you.” “Giselle is just an old habit he can’t quite shake.” For a fleeting second, I almost believed Jensen had developed real feelings for me. But then he jetted off to Europe with Giselle for a vacation, and the paparazzi were there to capture it all. They looked like any other couple madly in love, kissing by the sea before walking hand-in-hand into a hotel, not emerging until the next morning. The comments section under my social media posts exploded with ridicule from Giselle’s fans. “Sienna, stop playing dead and say something! The thought of how furious and jealous you must be right now is giving me life!” “What’s stolen must eventually be returned.” “The one and only will always win. She just has to stand there. Some people can kiss ass their whole lives and never even come close.” Jensen’s assistant called me. I was instructed to handle the PR nightmare, just like all the other times. “Okay,” I said. “Tell him to enjoy his trip. I’ll take care of it.” This time, though, the video evidence was undeniable. Even if I was willing to lie through my teeth, the public wasn’t buying it. “Sweetheart, are you still defending him? Do you think we’re all blind?” “Oh, right, right. They’re just ‘friends.’ Friendly kisses, you know. Then they went to the hotel and had a sleepover while they gossiped under the covers. That about right?” “Sienna, if you don’t break up with him, we’re going to start hating you, too!” Backed into a corner by public opinion, I had no choice but to double down. “We’re not breaking up! I’d die without him!” Jensen cut his trip short to come back and plan my birthday party. He wrapped an arm around my waist, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Baby, you love me that much, huh?” During the taping of the show earlier that day, another guest had asked me the same thing. I had lost a game and had to choose “Truth.” The host asked, “What’s your partner’s ‘get out of jail free’ card?” I was hooked up to a lie detector, so I couldn’t lie. With a look of utter sincerity, I said, “His face.” The host did a spit-take, choking on his water for a solid minute. “…What?!” But the lie detector didn’t buzz. It was the truth. 4 It was no secret that Jensen Rutherford, the heir to the Rutherford fortune, was handsome enough to have a fan club based on his looks alone. Everyone just assumed I was a hopeless, superficial fan of his face. The guest sitting next to me, Lorraine, was a revered veteran actress known for her blunt honesty. She was the one who had commented “A perfect match” under the photo of Jensen and Giselle kissing, followed by a vomiting emoji. The comment went viral. Now, looking at me, her face was practically carved with the words, “I can’t believe this girl.” “Sienna, honey, do you really love him that much?” I just smiled. The cameras were rolling, so I let the topic drop. After the taping, Lorraine invited me to her house for dinner. Years ago, I had played her daughter in a film. After just a few weeks on set, she had seen through my sweet-as-pie exterior to the defiant heart underneath. She didn’t call me out on my act. In fact, she praised me. “Good,” she’d said. “I like that fire in you. You remind me of myself when I was your age.” Lorraine lived in Northwood. On her living room wall hung a faded old photograph. A younger, blushing Lorraine was leaning against the shoulder of a handsome young man. I’d heard the stories. She’d had a great love when she was young. He died in a car crash three days before their wedding. I had lived through what she had lived through. I couldn’t imagine how she had survived decades of that pain alone. “Lorraine, how did you get through all these years?” She took a sip of her wine, her eyes turning red. “In the worst moments, I wanted to die. But I still had my parents, my family. I couldn’t be that selfish.” “I tried to move on, to see other men. I even considered getting married on a whim just to force myself forward.” “But none of it worked.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, her voice wistful. “The more people I met, the more I realized… he was him. No one could ever replace him.” I sighed, my hands clenching the fabric of my dress. My phone was still buzzing with alerts about Jensen’s latest escapades. A man wearing the face I knew best, acting like a playboy and turning me into a public laughingstock. Jensen wasn’t him. He could never replace him. For the first time, the thought of leaving flickered in my mind. 5 The day before my birthday, Northwood hosted a major charity gala. Giselle wasn’t on the original guest list. But all she had to do was say, “I want to go,” and Jensen pulled strings to get her an invitation. He was worried she’d feel out of place, so he stayed by her side the entire night. When the spotlight found them, Jensen bent down to adjust the train of her gown. Their eyes met, a picture of romantic devotion. My agent, Anna, slammed her fist on the table. “What the hell is this? I’ve never seen a cheater and his mistress flaunt it so openly! Aren’t they afraid of karma?” I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and forced a small laugh. “They have nothing to fear.” A man with Jensen’s power and influence would just be called a romantic, a playboy. He was probably the envy of countless men, able to have it all. As for Giselle, with Jensen backing her, no amount of public outrage could touch her career. The roles she was getting were better than ever. The world was just that unfair. My seat was assigned next to Jensen’s. But when I arrived, Giselle was already sitting in it. I pointed to the back. “Your seat is over there.” Giselle shot me a disdainful look and pretended she hadn’t heard. For the first time, I refused to back down. I stood there, staring at her. “Don’t play deaf. Get up.” The tension thickened. Jensen tugged on my sleeve. “Sienna, come on, be good. Just let her have it.” “And if I won’t?” Jensen’s brow furrowed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Don’t be difficult. If you have a problem, we’ll deal with it at home.” I didn’t even understand it myself. For five years, I had put up with everything. Why was I letting something so small get to me now? I choked back a sob. “Jensen, this is the last time.” I shook his hand off and turned, walking toward the back of the room. 6 Throughout the several-hour-long event, Jensen kept looking back at me. The media barely got a single shot of his face, just the back of his head. Giselle was not pleased. The moment the gala ended, she complained of a stomachache, making Jensen stay with her at the hospital all night. The next morning, Jensen’s friends started calling. “Sienna, you have no idea how much effort Jensen put into your birthday party. The gown alone was handmade by dozens of artisans in France!” “Just forgive him for last night, okay? He knows he messed up and promised he’d make it up to you today.” This was classic Jensen. He knew he was in the wrong but was too proud to apologize, so he’d always send others to plead his case. I went to the party venue as requested. But when I arrived, the expressions on everyone’s faces were grim. “What’s wrong?” I followed their gaze up to the second-floor landing. The magnificent, one-of-a-kind gown was now being worn by Giselle. Jensen walked over to me. He rubbed his chin, looking guilty. “Giselle fell in love with the dress. Just let her have it, okay? I’ll get you something even better later…” “Jensen.” I looked at him, my voice ice. “Is this your idea of making it up to me?” “That’s my dress! Why should I let her have it? I won’t!” “You’re playing both sides. Don’t you feel disgusting?” “No, that’s not right. The two of you are perfect for each other. You’re both disgusting.” In five years, I had always been the gentle, obedient one. Jensen had never seen me like this, my words sharp enough to draw blood, lashing out at him. He was stunned, his face flushing with embarrassment. “It’s just a dress. Is it really that big of a deal?” His friends swarmed in, trying to mediate. “It’s your birthday! You should be happy. Sienna, don’t be angry.” “And you, Jensen, just apologize to her already.” I stood there, silent. After a long moment, I looked at Jensen’s face and let out a dry, humorless laugh. “No need to apologize.” “We’re done, Jensen. Let’s break up.” 7 The single sentence hung in the air, leaving everyone in the room stunned. Jensen was the most shocked of all. It took him a long moment to process my words. “…Break up?” he repeated, as if he’d misheard. “You said break up?” “Sienna, I dare you to say that again.” Giselle, drawn by the argument, hurried over, her eyes downcast as she apologized. “Sienna, I’m so sorry! I grew up poor, I was never really doted on. When I saw a dress this beautiful for the first time, I just wanted to try it on.” “Don’t be mad. I’ll take it off and give it back to you right now…” “Don’t bother.” I pulled a pair of scissors from my purse, grabbed Giselle, and shredded the gown she was wearing into ribbons. “Clothes you’ve worn belong in the trash!” Jensen’s eyes widened in horror. He shoved me back forcefully. “Sienna! Have you lost your mind?!” Giselle collapsed into his arms, clutching her chest and sobbing pitifully. A sharp pain shot through my palm. I clenched my fist, hiding the wound, and turned to walk out. “Sienna, wait…” His friends tried to stop me, but Jensen roared with fury. “Let her go!” “Anyone who tries to stop her today is an enemy of mine!” … I went back to the villa to grab a few important things, then bought a train ticket back to my hometown of Riverbend that same day. The scenery blurred past the window. Listening to the whistling wind, I felt like I had spent my entire life as a piece of driftwood on the river of life, always finding a moment of happiness only to have it snatched away by fate. It was dark by the time I reached Riverbend. It was a small town, and I couldn’t find a cab. I dragged my luggage through the rain, walking for over two hours from the train station to the cemetery. I just missed him so much. I couldn’t wait another second to see him. The old groundskeeper at the cemetery gate tried to send me away. “Girl, who comes to a grave in the middle of the night? Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?” The emotions I had been holding back the entire journey finally broke. I covered my face and sobbed, a raw, broken sound. “If only ghosts were real!” I would have given anything, paid any price, just to see Bryce Rutherford one more time. 8 Sienna was really gone. The girl who was always so sweet, who smiled at everyone, so gentle she almost seemed unreal, had exploded over a single dress. It was like she’d swallowed a stick of dynamite. One of his friends finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Jensen, man, you really went too far this time. You can’t just keep pushing her around because you know she cares about you.” “Stop being so stubborn. Go get her back.” “Get her back?” Jensen scoffed. “Are you kidding me? She’s the one who can’t live without me, not the other way around.” “Didn’t you see her today? She was acting like a lunatic. That’s what happens when you spoil them too much.” In front of everyone, Jensen pulled out his phone and blocked Sienna’s number. “And you guys,” he said, “don’t contact her for at least a month. She needs to be put in her place, or she’ll think she can walk all over me.” The birthday party was missing its guest of honor. The meal was tense and silent. His assistant hesitated for a long time before cautiously approaching. “Mr. Rutherford, I think there was blood on those scissors…” Jensen froze. He sprinted up to the second floor and snatched the scissors off the floor. Sure enough, there were fresh smears of blood on the blades. His tough-guy act lasted all of three seconds. First, he started calling her frantically. When the calls wouldn’t go through, he unblocked her number. He was sending a barrage of voice messages as he ran for the door. [Baby, I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!] [Where are you hurt? Why didn’t you tell me?!] [Please, just answer me. I’m begging you, don’t scare me like this…] His friend, standing nearby, rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw his own brain. “At~ least~ a~ month~,” he mimicked. “Hah. Men.” 9 Jensen was just now realizing how little he actually knew about Sienna. He didn’t know where she was from, who her friends or family were, or where she would go now that she’d left Northwood. He had no idea. His team was working around the clock to find her. For days, Jensen couldn’t eat or sleep. Without her, the massive villa felt like an ice cave, utterly devoid of life. Giselle came by the house to find him, throwing her arms around him the moment she walked in. “Jensen, the nuisance is gone. We can finally start over, just us!” But to his own surprise, Jensen pushed her away. Giselle froze. “…What was that for?” Jensen couldn’t explain it either. He didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Sienna had become more than just a substitute in his heart. He loved the faint scent of her long hair, the way her eyes crinkled into crescents when she smiled. He loved the adoring, almost worshipful way she would stare at his face, her eyes overflowing with a love so pure it was impossible to fake. Since the age of five, Jensen had been an only child. He was doted on, raised in the lap of luxury. He had never lacked for affection. But Sienna’s love was different. It was a torrential, all-consuming force that had seeped into his bones and softened him. If he had to choose between Giselle and Sienna, Jensen knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his heart had already chosen for him. His team found her. Jensen was in the middle of a board meeting. He didn’t care. He stood up and ran for the airport. It had only been five days, but the thought of her was like an itch under his skin he couldn’t scratch. Love was a terrifying thing. It could chip away at a man’s pride, piece by piece, until he was reduced to this pathetic, needy version of himself. Without Sienna, it was like he couldn’t breathe. 10 I wasn’t surprised when I saw Jensen. With the Rutherford family’s resources, it was only a matter of time before they found me. Jensen grabbed my hands, inspecting them over and over. He only seemed to relax when he saw the wound had already scabbed over. He apologized profusely and tried to transfer fifty million dollars into my account as compensation. “You don’t have to do this.” I pulled my hand away, my voice calm. “We’ve already broken up. Let’s just part on good terms. We can still be friends.” Jensen stared at me for a moment, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Alright, baby, enough with the angry act. It was my fault, all my fault.” “I promise, no more Giselle, no more anyone else. From now on, it’s just you.” “Come back to Northwood with me. We’ll get married as soon as we’re back.” I sighed, exhausted. “Stop it, Jensen. I’m not going to marry you.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t love you.” The smile in his eyes deepened. He wrapped his arms around my waist in a roguish embrace I couldn’t break. “You don’t even blush when you tell a lie like that?” “I know what you’re worried about. You think my family won’t approve.” “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. All you have to do is get ready to be my wife.” I learned how he “handled it” from the entertainment news. He went back to his family and announced his intention to marry me. He was immediately locked in the family chapel and beaten, his back left raw and bloody. He then knelt in that chapel for three days and three nights, falling gravely ill. When he woke, he refused to eat or take his medicine, throwing the entire Rutherford household into chaos. He repeated the same things over and over: “Even if I have to give up my inheritance and be cast out of this family, I’m going to marry Sienna!” “And don’t even think about causing her trouble. If anything happens to her, I won’t live either!” Jensen was the only heir of his generation. In the end, their concern for him won out. They relented. Once the news broke, public opinion shifted dramatically. Many who had once called Jensen a scumbag were now marveling at the depth of his devotion. “A prodigal son’s return is worth more than gold. Sienna is so lucky to be loved so deeply by a man like Jensen. I’m so envious.” “After all these years of waiting, Sienna’s devotion has finally paid off. Even a stone would be warmed by now.” It seemed the world was exceptionally forgiving of powerful, wealthy men. A thousand acts of cruelty and manipulation could be forgiven if they were sprinkled with just a single grain of sincerity. For the next few days, Northwood residents kept “bumping into” the young Mr. Rutherford. He was spotted at jewelry stores looking at wedding rings, at bridal boutiques picking out gowns. He must have been in a good mood, because he agreed to a photo with everyone who asked. But Jensen’s good mood didn’t last long. A video of me went viral, igniting a firestorm on social media. In the clip, I was kneeling at a gravesite, sobbing uncontrollably, as if pouring out all the injustices of the world to the person buried there. On the stone in front of me, an inscription was clearly visible: “In loving memory of my husband, Bryce Rutherford.” And the face in the portrait was nearly identical to Jensen’s. That night, Jensen blew up my phone. 11 The constant ringing kept me from sleeping. I went up to the roof for some fresh air. When I turned, I saw a figure standing in the shadows. From the moment I met Jensen, he had always carried himself with an air of untouchable, easy confidence. I had never seen him look so broken. He had rushed to Riverbend in the middle of the night, looking haggard and exhausted. His eyes were so red they looked like they might start bleeding. He was on the verge of a complete breakdown. “Sienna, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you have to answer me honestly. No more lies.” I nodded. “Okay.” “You were married?” “No.” “Then what does ‘late husband’ mean?” “We never made it to the altar. He passed away before we could. I wanted to give him that title.” “Last question.” Jensen’s jaw was tight, the veins on his forehead bulging as he fought back tears. “Were you… using me as his replacement all this time?” I was silent for a moment. “Yes.” The truth, once spoken, was a release for me, too. “Sienna…” His voice cracked. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman.” Jensen turned his back to me. His tall frame seemed to collapse in on itself, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I didn’t understand why he was so upset. “Jensen, in your heart, I was just Giselle’s replacement anyway. I’d say we’re even.” “From now on, just be with her. I won’t be in your way anymore.” “No… Don’t go!” He shot up, trapping me in his arms and crushing his lips against mine in a desperate, bruising kiss. I bit down hard, tasting blood, but he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t want her, I want you!” “Sienna, baby, come back with me. We’ll get married! I’ve arranged everything!” I was just so tired. If I had known getting away from him would be this much trouble, I never would have gotten involved in the first place. “Jensen, are you incapable of understanding plain English? I will never marry you.” “The man I love is not you.” Jensen’s tall figure swayed, as if he might fall over. “So it’s true? The living can never compete with the dead?” The next second, he climbed over the rooftop railing, half his body dangling in the open air. One more step and he would fall. Twenty-nine floors. A fall from that height would be fatal. “If I die, too, will you love me the way you loved him?” A violent tremor shot through me. My eyes widened in shock. He was insane. The wind howled across the rooftop. I turned and walked away without a single glance back. Jensen wouldn’t really jump. He couldn’t. His life was too rich, too vibrant. Love was just a small part of it. Unlike me. My heart was so small, it only had room for one person. The day Bryce Rutherford died, a part of me died with him, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell, barely surviving. A long time later, a man’s voice, choked with rage, echoed from the rooftop. “Sienna, I hate you!” “I’ll make you pay for this.” “You just wait.” 12 Jensen was wrong. It wasn’t that the living couldn’t compete with the dead. It was that from the moment Bryce Rutherford entered my life, every other man in the world ceased to exist for me.

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On the livestream, Jaxon, the clout-chasing pop idol with bleached blond hair, was lounging inside the cockpit of a heavily armed stealth fighter jet. He smirked at the camera, bragging to millions of viewers that his CEO sugar mama had gifted him this magnificent beast, and he was about to take her for a joyride. My blood ran cold. One glance was all it took to recognize the classified prototype parked on my private military tarmac. Furious, I dialed my wife’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. How dare she hand over top-tier military hardware to a glorified pretty boy? He did not even deserve to breathe the same air as that machine. I did not hesitate. I immediately contacted Central Command, flagging the incident as a Level One security breach and theft of classified assets. By the time the tactical strike team swarmed the hangar, Jaxon was still fumbling clumsily with the control panels. A split second later, a masked operative ripped him out of the cockpit, tossing him onto the unforgiving concrete of the runway like a sack of garbage. Hundreds of thousands of viewers watched it happen live. The chat exploded into a frenzy of panic. “Oh my god! Did they just send the actual Special Forces?!” “Jaxon is so done…” I glanced at the tactical watch on my wrist, a dark scoff escaping my lips. Unauthorized access to a military-grade fighter jet carried a shoot-to-kill authorization. If he wanted to play stupid games with national security, he was going to win the ultimate prize. Some lines are drawn in blood, and anyone who crosses them pays the toll. 1 Jaxon’s eyes were wide with a pathetic mix of terror and disbelief, yet he still had the nerve to run his mouth. “You can’t do this! My stream is still live!” “Are you seriously going to assault me in front of millions of fans?!” I let out a cold laugh, stepping forward to press the heavy sole of my combat boot against his arrogant mouth. “Too bad your account just got permanently nuked for broadcasting classified military intelligence.” “You still don’t get it, do you? I have zero patience for trash like you.” The moment the words left my mouth, a dozen heavily armed tactical officers raised their rifles in unison, the laser sights painting red dots across Jaxon’s forehead. All the blood drained from his face. He began to whimper, his words tumbling out in a garbled mess. “Tony! Are you out of your mind?!” “If you touch a single hair on my head, Victoria will destroy you!” Even with guns pointed at his skull, the brat was using my own wife as a shield. My eyes turned glacial. I racked the slide of my sidearm, the metallic clack echoing sharply in the tense air. “Tony Kingsley! Put that down right now!” The hangar door violently slammed open as Victoria barged in. Her usually elegant, untouchable demeanor was gone, replaced by a mask of blazing fury. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?! You are going to take his life over a stupid airplane?!” I found the whole situation downright hilarious. Whenever Jaxon was in trouble, she always managed to show up with perfect timing. The tactical commander picked up on the toxic energy radiating between us. He gave my shoulder a brief, solid pat. “Handle your domestic issues, Colonel. We will drag this punk to the holding cells.” “Victoria, save me!” Before Jaxon could even finish his pathetic wail, he was shoved brutally into the back of an armored transport vehicle. Victoria’s brows knit together. Her eyes swam with agonizing pity for him and absolute venom for me. “Are you happy now, Tony? Pulling a stunt like this?” I met her raging stare with absolute deadpan calm. “Who told you to decline my call?” Victoria looked at me like I had just sprouted a second head. Her trembling finger pointed straight at my chest. “You humiliated Jaxon in front of hundreds of thousands of people just because I sent you to voicemail?!” “Do you have any idea how hard he has worked to get where he is? How could you ruin him so viciously!” “You should be thanking yourself for letting him trespass onto my tarmac and break into a classified jet. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had the legal right to do a damn thing.” I stared her down until she guiltily averted her eyes. “Victoria, do you comprehend the federal penalty for attempting to hijack a military aircraft?” That struck a nerve. Her pupils dilated in sudden fear, but she quickly masked it with stubborn defiance. “Who says he stole it?! The jet is sitting right there, completely fine!” “You are just jealous that I spoil him, so you are abusing your military authority to crush him!” Realizing she was completely divorced from reality, any desire I had to reason with her evaporated. I turned to walk away, but she lunged forward, her manicured fingers digging into my wrist. “Tony, stop making things worse. You are going to march down there right now, clear his name, and get Jaxon released.” Her tone shifted from panicked to outrageously demanding. “You know how cutthroat the entertainment industry is! Jaxon just landed a pilot role in a blockbuster movie. He just wanted to use your plane to practice getting into character!” When I did not even flinch, her voice pitched into a hysterical screech. “A billionaire heir like you could never understand! Jaxon grew up starving in a filthy orphanage! He hustles day and night just so he can donate to kids who suffer like he did.” “Is your heart made of ice, Tony? Why can’t you just show a shred of empathy!” “He hustles?” I looked at the woman I had shared a bed with for years, feeling a bone-deep chill. She looked like a complete stranger. “Do you know how many of my brothers are deployed in hostile territories right now? Men who put their lives on the line every single day, who haven’t seen their families in years, whose names can’t even be carved onto their tombstones if they die?” “In your eyes, their sacrifices mean nothing. The only person who ‘hustles’ is your little pet idol, the one you’ve pumped billions of dollars into?” “What kind of nonsense are you talking about…” Victoria’s face morphed from pale to a sickly green. She opened her mouth to argue, but I shoved my phone screen directly into her line of sight. It was a gallery of Jaxon’s shameless social media flexes. “Shoutout to my CEO goddess for the birthday gift! Just moved into this mega-mansion!” “Wrapped up my new movie, and she rewarded me with a private island! She is obsessed with me!” “Loving the new mega-yacht from my favorite lady!” I erased the last trace of emotion from my face. My voice was a lethal whisper. “Victoria, do you even know when my birthday is?” “Have you ever celebrated it? Even once?” My gaze acted as a scalpel, peeling back her layers of fake righteousness. “Tell me. Who exactly is your husband?” A flicker of genuine panic crossed her features, instantly replaced by defensive rage. “How dare you turn this on me? With your ridiculous military job, you are a ghost! How am I supposed to celebrate your birthday when you are never around!” She grew more frantic, as if years of hidden resentment were finally boiling over. “You are a Colonel, for god’s sake, and you are throwing a jealous tantrum over a kid! Don’t you feel pathetic acting so insecure and petty?” Listening to her toxic mockery, the lingering ache in my chest finally went numb. I looked at her and genuinely smiled. “You are right. I was acting pathetic. But I won’t make that mistake again.” Without sparing another glance at her twisted expression, I turned and walked toward the waiting armored convoy. “Tony Kingsley! Stop right there!” Victoria’s shrill scream tore through the tarmac behind me. “Do you really think I need you to get Jaxon out?” She was practically roaring now, throwing out a desperate, unhinged threat. “Let me make this perfectly clear. The Ashford family has power in this city! You just wait and see!” My boots paused for a fraction of a second, but I never looked back. 2 By the next morning, the hashtag #JaxonReleased was trending at number one. I frowned, clicking on the attached video. Jaxon looked perfectly disheveled, his blond hair intentionally messy to give him that tragic, victimized aesthetic. He offered the camera a weak, teary-eyed smile. “Thank you to everyone who stood by me. I am safe now.” “I was set up. I guess when you shine too bright, people try to drag you into the dark.” “Thank god my CEO benefactor believes in me. If it weren’t for her, I might have been…” He let a single tear slip down his cheek right on cue. The comment section went feral. [Our baby suffered so much! Thank god Victoria is protecting him!] [It broke my heart seeing him dragged like that. That military jerk abusing his power is pure evil!] [Hah, the guy is just a glorified pilot. Did he really think he could stand up to the Ashford empire? Victoria handled him!] The sheer audacity of it all was nauseating. Victoria was willing to burn the world down for a two-faced actor. I immediately dialed my legal counsel. “Lawyer Bennett. Draft the divorce papers.” “And file federal charges against both of them for trespassing on a restricted military installation and tampering with classified assets.” Hanging up, my eyes landed on the wedding portrait resting on my nightstand. In the photo, Victoria was leaning against my chest, her smile radiant and full of promises. I still remembered our wedding day. A black-ops mission had gone south, delaying my arrival. I had sprinted into the cathedral smelling like cordite and ash, beating the clock by mere seconds. That was when I heard Victoria’s unwavering voice. “I know Tony carries the weight of the country on his shoulders. I know his boots can never stay planted in one place for me.” “But from this day forward, I, Victoria Ashford, will be his invincible shield back home!” Because of those very words, I gave her everything. I poured my trust, my soul, and the Kingsley family’s vast resources into building her corporate empire. The vows still echoed in my memory, but the woman who spoke them was long dead. I packed my duffel bag, ready to head back to the base. As I opened the front door, I nearly collided with Grandpa Ashford, who was dragging Victoria inside by her arm. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, clearly having spent the entire night pulling strings to get Jaxon out of federal custody. “Tony, my boy,” Grandpa Ashford greeted, forcing a warm, apologetic smile. “Victoria acted out of line. I have already given her a piece of my mind.” “She only did this because she loves you so much. She just wanted to make you a little jealous.” “Sit down, talk it out. There’s nothing a husband and wife can’t fix.” Before I could even process the absolute absurdity of that statement, Victoria pointed a manicured finger at my face and shrieked. “You are so utterly despicable, Tony! If you hadn’t gone crying to Grandpa, he wouldn’t have frozen all of Jaxon’s contracts!” I could not help but laugh. “Crying to him? Or did your massive PR circus to bail out a criminal make so much noise that the board of directors noticed?” The icy contempt in my eyes hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes went bloodshot with rage. “You bastard!” She grabbed a heavy, die-cast model jet off the console table and hurled it directly at my head. I dodged instinctively, but a jagged piece of the metal wing grazed my jaw, drawing a thin line of blood. “You ungrateful wretch!” Grandpa Ashford roared, his cane slamming against the hardwood floor. “How dare you raise your hand against your husband! Apologize to him this instant!” Victoria clenched her fists, panic and toxic pride warring in her eyes. “Why should I apologize?! He forced my hand!” I felt the warm trail of blood slide down my neck, soaking into my collar. The last ember of warmth in my chest died out completely. Taking a slow, deep breath, I looked at her with total detachment. “Victoria. We are getting a divorce.” 3 Her eyes widened in absolute shock. “Are you seriously stooping so low as to use the D-word to manipulate me?” “I am warning you, Tony. That toxic behavior won’t work on me!” I did not waste another breath. I pulled the divorce agreement from my jacket, signed it with a heavy stroke of my pen, and pushed it onto the table. “Sign it.” Her mask cracked. Real panic bled into her voice, making it tremble. “Over a stupid plane? You are throwing our marriage away over a piece of metal?” “Jaxon already got manhandled! Nobody is even pressing charges against him anymore… Why do you have to be so incredibly vindictive?” Watching her drown in her own delusions, I closed my eyes, exhausted down to my bones. “That ‘piece of metal’ you keep mocking is my lifeline. It represents billions in research and the safety of this nation.” “It has kept me alive through dogfights over hostile waters. And you handed it over to a plastic entertainer for a photo op?” Victoria froze. All the color drained from her cheeks. “Airplanes all look the same to me… I honestly didn’t know it was that important… Besides, he just took a couple of selfies…” I held up a hand, cutting off her pathetic lies. “The reality is, you bypassed security, gave him access to a lethal weapon, and then burned millions trying to cover his tracks.” “We are done.” Seeing the finality in my eyes, sheer terror finally seized her. Grandpa Ashford scrambled to do damage control. “Tony, she knows she crossed a line. To show you how sorry she is, she just authorized a fifty million dollar donation in military supplies to your base.” “I think you are misinformed, sir. That fifty million was the bribe money she paid to get Jaxon out of a black site. It had absolutely nothing to do with me.” The forced smile on Grandpa Ashford’s face shattered. He began to shake with volcanic fury. “You absolute disgrace! You funneled Ashford corporate funds to save that gigolo?!” Victoria looked completely paralyzed. Seeing me reach for the door handle, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. “Tony, the money wasn’t for him! I swear! I felt so guilty, I just wanted to support your unit…” “Please, give me one more chance! I will terminate Jaxon’s contract right now. I swear to god, you will never have to look at him again.” Her nails dug painfully into my ribs. Her voice was wrecked with desperate sobs. “Tony, please. Just trust me one last time. Please?” I looked down at her tear-streaked face. After a long, agonizing silence, I let out a breath. “You have one week. If you actually sever ties with him, we can talk.” She shivered, a look of desperate determination flashing in her tearful eyes. “I promise! You will see!” Surprisingly, she kept her word. That very afternoon, Ashford Corporation issued a brutal public statement, terminating Jaxon and effectively blacklisting him from the industry. Victoria completely completely changed her tune. She became the picture of a devoted, apologetic wife. She canceled her corporate meetings, moved back into our house on the military base, and stuck by my side every second of the day. She even asked to accompany me to the aviation museum to see the retired fighter jets. “Tony, did you fly this one too?” She traced the glass of the exhibit, looking at me with absolute adoration. “You are so incredible.” The golden hour light caught her profile, and for a fleeting second, I saw the girl I had fallen in love with all those years ago. In that quiet museum, my deadened heart gave a faint, reluctant beat. Even Commander Briggs pulled me aside later to offer some fatherly advice. “Marriage is a battlefield of its own, Kingsley. If she is making a genuine effort to fix her fire, maybe let her back in the trench.” Driving back to the base, looking at the soft, hopeful gaze she kept giving me, my resolve softened. Maybe… just maybe, it was worth saving. But the second I stepped into my office, the gate guard rushed in, looking completely panicked. “Colonel Kingsley, sir! Your son is throwing a massive tantrum at the main gate… We don’t know how to handle this!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. In all our years of marriage, Victoria and I never had a child. Whose kid was at the gate?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “428906”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I had been with Pierce for seven years. We even had a child together, but he still refused to give me a title. The elite circles of Manhattan were just waiting for the day he threw me away. But against all odds, Pierce suddenly proposed. His best friend found out and rushed over, demanding to know if he had lost his mind. After all, Renee had just gotten a divorce and moved back to the States. The woman Pierce had been waiting for all his life was finally here, yet he was choosing to marry me, the nameless woman who had been warming his bed for seven years. Pierce just calmly explained that Renee was too flighty, and she had a daughter. Even if she married into his family, she wouldn’t have a good life. Then he added that I, Hazel, was perfectly obedient. His friend was still confused. Just because I was obedient? Pierce nodded. He said he would set up a trust fund with eighty percent of his assets for Renee before our wedding. That kind of money would last her several lifetimes. He also said that if this were a business marriage, a wealthy heiress would never agree to a prenuptial agreement like that. But he was absolutely certain that I would. 1 “Bro, Hazel literally gave birth to your own flesh and blood!” his friend said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I can understand not giving her everything, but giving eighty percent of your net worth to Renee and her kid? Isn’t that crossing a line?” The VIP lounge instantly filled with knowing, sarcastic chuckles. “Wait, don’t tell me Renee’s kid is actually yours, Pierce?” Pierce took a slow sip of his whiskey. “If anyone disrespects Renee again, we are going to have a serious problem.” His friend immediately changed the subject. “Look, nobody in their right mind would agree to those terms. Why are you so sure Hazel will?” Pierce ran his thumb along the rim of his glass, his voice entirely detached. “Because.” “Hazel has zero material desires. She has stayed by my side all these years, and it was never for the money.” “It is because she loves me.” “Because she is desperate to marry me.” … I stood right outside the heavy mahogany door. It felt like I had been stripped naked and thrown into a blizzard. He knew. He knew all along. He knew exactly how desperately I wanted to be his wife. For seven years. Even after I went through the agony of giving birth to his son. I was still just the nameless Ms. Hazel. He never once brought up marriage. But now, for Renee’s sake, he was going to marry me. In that split second, seven years of blind devotion turned to ash. I did not want to marry Pierce anymore. 2 My hands were still trembling when I pushed the door open. The loud lounge fell dead silent. I walked straight up to Pierce. “Pierce, my gran wants to take a family photo with you and Sam.” Before coming to the club, Gran had been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer at the hospital. The doctors said her prognosis was grim. Her only request was a family portrait. Right now, my only goal in life was to fulfill that wish. Pierce opened his mouth to speak, but his phone buzzed. The moment he saw the caller ID, the ice in his eyes melted into absolute softness. Renee’s voice came through the speaker, trembling with unshed tears. “Pierce, my flight landed early! I do not know if it is because of the outfit I am wearing, but even the airport security guards are staring at me…” “I am so scared. Please come pick me up!” Pierce stood up immediately. “I am on my way.” Almost by instinct, my fingers caught his sleeve. “My gran is dying…” He pulled his arm away, cutting me off coldly. “And what exactly does your gran have to do with me?” My fingers froze in midair. He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear as he articulated every single word. “Do you want to be my wife?” “Then learn your place.” With that, he and his friends turned and walked out. The VIP lounge was terrifyingly quiet. I stood frozen in the center of the room, and then I laughed. Something inside my chest completely and irreparably shattered. Good. 3 I took a cab back to the hospital alone. Overnight, I cashed in every favor I had to contact the top oncology professors. They reviewed her charts and suggested a cutting-edge targeted therapy trial in Zurich. It was a long shot, but it was hope. First thing the next morning, I walked straight into the corporate headquarters. I was quitting. I only joined the company seven years ago for Pierce. Now, I was going to take Gran to Switzerland for treatment. I was going to sever every single tie I had with him and this city. I was in the middle of typing my resignation letter when an urgent email popped up on my screen. It was a mandatory summons for all department heads to report to the top-floor conference room immediately. I was just getting out of my chair when Gran’s attending physician called. Five minutes later, I rushed to the conference room doors, my eyes still rimmed red from crying. I pushed open the heavy glass doors just in time to hear Pierce’s cold, authoritative voice. “Effective immediately, Renee will take over as the Director of Research and Development. She reports directly to me.” Renee was the first to spot me. Dressed in a pristine designer pantsuit, she smiled brightly. “Does Director Hazel have a problem with my appointment?” “It is my very first meeting, and you are already showing up late?” Before I could even open my mouth to explain. She turned to Pierce, pouting playfully. “Boss, do I have the authority to punish insubordinate employees?” Pierce’s indifferent gaze swept over my face without lingering for even a second. Then, he nodded. A sweet, incredibly vicious smile bloomed on Renee’s lips. “Well, since the boss gave me the green light,” she drawled slowly. “Director Hazel, you are fired.” 4 The entire conference room went pin-drop silent. Vanguard Holdings was known for its incredible benefits. No one in the history of the company had ever been fired for being five minutes late to a meeting. Pierce’s brow twitched imperceptibly. I knew him. I knew he thought Renee was taking it too far. After all, I had bled for this company for seven years. I secured their biggest accounts. I had flawless performance reviews every single quarter. But in the end, he did not say a word. Because Pierce wanted the entire executive board to know that Renee had his absolute backing. The weird, pitying looks from everyone in the room felt like hundreds of tiny needles sinking directly into my heart. The second I sat back down at my cubicle, my desk phone rang. It was Pierce’s private line. “Come to my office.” 5 I pushed open his heavy oak doors. Pierce leaned back in his leather chair, skipping the pleasantries. “Renee is an outside hire. People are naturally going to doubt her.” “She only did that today to establish her authority. She did not mean any actual harm.” I stood there listening quietly, like he was telling a story about a stranger. Seeing my total lack of reaction, Pierce looked visibly irritated. He pulled a thick folder from his drawer and tossed it onto the desk. “Here is a contract for the General Manager position at our Brooklyn branch. The title and the salary are both a massive step up from your current role.” “Stop throwing a tantrum, Hazel.” I stared dead into his eyes. “I will take it, but only if you have accounting wire my severance package to my personal account right now.” Pierce narrowed his eyes. “Are you short on cash?” I nodded. “Yes.” He studied me for two seconds, then picked up his phone and dialed a number. Less than ten seconds later, my phone buzzed. The massive severance payout had hit my account. “Are we done here?” he asked. I nodded and took the contract he held out to me. Pierce visibly relaxed. “If you ever need money, just tell the estate manager. You have unlimited access to my accounts.” I did not reply. I just turned and walked out. I dropped the lucrative contract straight into the trash can by the elevators and walked right out of the Vanguard building. Seven years of corporate slavery. Seven years of blind, willing sacrifice. At this exact moment, it was completely, permanently over. 6 When I started my car, my fingertips were still numb. I took a deep breath and drove straight to the elite private preschool. Gran’s family portrait. Just Sam and I would be enough. But the moment I walked up to the school gates, my son’s face completely dropped. “Mom, why are you here?” “Auntie Renee and Daisy got back yesterday. Dad promised he was taking us all out to a fancy dinner!” I pulled him off to the side, kneeling down so I was exactly at his eye level. My voice was more serious than it had ever been. “Sam, your great-grandmother is very, very sick. She wants to take a picture with you.” “I need you to come to the hospital with me right now, okay?” Sam physically recoiled from me. “No way! Mom, you know I hate germs. Hospitals are disgusting.” He paused, then muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. “And great-grandma… she is dirty too.” My heart sank to the absolute bottom of my chest. Because I knew the truth. Sam’s obsessive fear of germs only applied to certain people. 7 I carried him for nine months. I went through hell to give birth to him. I raised him with my own two hands until he started school. But if I did not wear sterile gloves, he refused to eat anything I cooked. Yet whenever Renee handed him a random piece of junk food, he devoured it happily. When he rolled around in the mud with Renee’s daughter Daisy, he never once complained about being dirty. I forced back my tears. “Sam, I have told you this before. My parents died when I was very little. Gran raised me by collecting cardboard and saving every single penny.” “She has pancreatic cancer. The doctors say it is a disease that hurts so much most people cannot even handle it.” “But she was so terrified of being a burden to us that she hid the pain until she physically could not take it anymore…” A wave of suffocating guilt practically ripped me in half. My seven years of swallowing my pride just to stay with Pierce. It had ultimately become the reason my own grandmother was too afraid to ask me for help. “Please, just do this one thing for me. Let us go take a picture with her so she can have some peace. Please?” Sam’s face scrunched up in obvious disgust. “No! She is a garbage picker! Garbage pickers are filthy and covered in bacteria!” I felt my blood turn to ice. I stared at him in sheer disbelief. “Sam Pierce! What are you saying?!” Sam screamed back at me. “I am telling the truth! She raised you, so you are probably covered in bacteria too! If you were not my mom, I would not even want you!” “You need to stay away from her, or I do not want you to be my mom anymore!” Before the echo of his words could fade. A low, furious voice snapped from behind me. “Sam!” Pierce was standing right there, his expression terrifyingly dark. “Apologize to your mother.” 8 Sam was so terrified by Pierce’s tone that he instantly burst into loud, ugly sobs. Pierce turned to look at my pale, shattered face. His brow furrowed deeply. For the first time ever, his voice held a trace of regret and frustration. “I am sorry. I had no idea your gran was this sick.” “I will clear my schedule over the next two days and personally bring Sam to see her.” I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand and stood up straight. I refused to look at him. I refused to look at the son I had sacrificed everything to raise. “Do not bother.” I meant it. Do not bother. Pierce. Sam. I was done with both of them. I got into my car and dialed my immigration consultant. “Hi, cancel the visa application for Sam Pierce.” “And please extend the visas for my grandmother and me to the absolute maximum duration allowed.” “We will not be coming back anytime soon.” Once Gran got better, I was going to take her to travel the world. “Understood,” the agent replied. “I will let you know the second it is processed.” 9 I stayed at the hospital with Gran for two days. Once her pain medication finally kicked in and she fell asleep, I drove back to the main estate to pack my things. But when I stood on the porch. My fingerprint failed. The passcode showed an error. Eventually, one of the maids had to open the door for me. When the heavy door swung open, the sight before me made me freeze. The center of the grand foyer was piled high with expensive designer luggage. The staff were carefully carrying box after box of Renee’s belongings up the grand staircase. Renee, wrapped in a luxurious silk robe, glided down the stairs. When she saw me, she flashed a sickeningly sweet smile. “Hazel, you are back!” “Are you still mad about me firing you? I am so sorry!” She blinked her massive, innocent eyes and intimately looped her arm through mine. “I just got back to the States, and I was terrified the staff wouldn’t respect me. I had to make an example out of someone.” “I wasn’t targeting you on purpose.” I calmly pulled my arm out of her grip. Renee did not seem to notice my icy demeanor. She took a step closer. “But guess what? I got you a massive consolation prize!” “I finally convinced Pierce to marry you! Now you can just stay home and enjoy the high life as his wife!” “Are you going crazy with excitement?” I stared at her with dead eyes. “Are you done?” Her smile did not waver, but a mocking glint appeared in her eyes. “Not quite!” “You know I am planning to settle down here for good. I grew up in this exact house. It holds so much sentimental value for me.” “Pierce said that to help me adjust, he is moving your little family of three to the Hamptons estate. This house is just going to be for me and Daisy.” “So I went ahead and deleted your fingerprint and passcode. Next time you visit my house, make sure you knock!” 10 Watching Renee act so incredibly entitled. In that split second, I was genuinely jealous of her. I had known Pierce since college. Naturally, I also knew the pampered princess who always hovered around him. Back then, I naively assumed she was the precious heir to some massive fortune. Chauffeured in luxury cars, draped in high fashion, surrounded by admirers. It was not until I was pregnant with Sam that I found out the truth. Renee’s mother was the maid at the Pierce estate. The only reason she had access to that world was because Pierce adored her. But his elite family absolutely refused to let him marry the help’s daughter. So, she took a ten-million-dollar check from Pierce’s grandfather and promptly moved overseas to marry some other rich guy. Over the years, she threatened to divorce her husband almost annually. The reasons were always absurd. Sometimes her husband forgot she hated onions in her pasta. Sometimes he bought the wrong brand of her signature perfume. Every single time she threw a tantrum and threatened to fly back to America, Pierce would drop his billion-dollar empire to go pick her up and fix her life. He would let her stay in his private Hamptons estate. He would even drag my son, Sam, along to play with her daughter, Daisy. But giving up the main estate… this was a first. Whatever lingering pain I had left simply went numb. I was leaving anyway. I did not care who Pierce gave the house to. 11 It did not take me long to pack my bags. As I dragged my suitcase down the front steps, a sleek black Bentley pulled into the driveway and came to a smooth stop. Pierce stepped out. His eyes instantly locked onto me, then dropped to the suitcase in my hand. His gaze darted between the luggage and my disturbingly calm face. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice noticeably colder than usual. I stopped walking and looked up at him. “The hospital. To stay with Gran.” Hearing the hospital mentioned, the tight knot between his brows loosened just a fraction. “Come to the lawyer’s office with me first.” “I have some paperwork you need to sign.” I knew exactly what it was. Even though I was completely checked out, the issue of Sam’s custody meant I had to go. 12 We sat down in the sleek, glass-walled conference room. My phone buzzed against my palm. It was a text from the agent: [Ms. Hazel, all paperwork is finalized. You are cleared to fly out tomorrow.] I was just typing my reply when Pierce slid a thick legal document and a blinding pink diamond ring across the table. “Sign the prenup,” he said, his tone softer than I had heard in months. “And we get married.” I did not even glance at the contract. My eyes fixed entirely on the ring. I recognized that pink diamond. Pierce had dropped a hundred million on it at a Sotheby’s auction. My medical broker had already warned me. Gran didn’t have international health insurance. The experimental treatments in Zurich were going to cost an astronomical fortune. I needed to be prepared. I looked up and met Pierce’s eyes. “If I sign this, is the ring legally mine?” Pierce clearly hadn’t expected that to be my first question. He paused before giving a low, “Yes.” I turned to the corporate lawyer sitting across from us. “Draft an addendum stating that this ring is an unconditional prenuptial gift.” Pierce’s brow slammed together in sheer irritation. “Hazel, what exactly is your angle here?” “My angle is that this ring belongs to me. It gives me security.” I held his stare. “Otherwise, I am terrified you will change your mind tomorrow and demand it back so you can give it to someone you actually want to give it to.” The tense, angry line of his jaw instantly relaxed. He probably thought that because I cared about the ring, I still desperately wanted to marry him. Looking highly amused, Pierce took the drafted addendum and signed his name with a flourish. “There. Do you feel secure now?” “Be at City Hall at nine tomorrow morning to get the license.” I slipped the velvet box into my purse and nodded. “Okay.” Pierce stood up, walking around the massive oak table to stand right in front of me. “Then it is settled.” “Do not be late, wife.” He breathed the last word incredibly softly. Then, he quickly looked away and strode out the door. Wife. What a deeply sarcastic joke. There was a time when I hallucinated about hearing him call me that. Now? I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes. So this is what it felt like when the love completely, irreversibly died. My fingers tapped across my screen as I calmly replied to the agent: [Book us on the earliest flight tomorrow.] I watched Pierce’s retreating back one last time. After today, we would be oceans apart. I would never have to look at his face again. 13 I left the law firm, but I didn’t head straight to the hospital. Instead, I walked into a different legal office downtown. I signed a document legally surrendering all my custody rights to Sam. By the time I got back to Gran’s room, she was resting her eyes, leaning against the pillows. When she saw me, her lips curved into a gentle smile. She didn’t ask why Pierce or Sam wasn’t with me. She just said softly, “Are you hungry? I had the nurse save you some soup.” While I was eating, Gran’s phone suddenly rang. It was Pierce. “Gran, it is Pierce. I am bringing Sam over to see you at four this afternoon. Does that work for you?” The dull, exhausted light in Gran’s eyes flickered with sudden life. “Yes, of course it works.” “Four is perfect. The lighting will be nice for the picture.” Watching the pure, fragile hope in my grandmother’s eyes, a massive lump formed in my throat. We were about to cross an ocean. The treatments would be grueling, the outcome completely unknown. If this one photo could give her peace of mind… Even if it was just a fraction of peace… I would swallow my pride and play along one last time. 14 Gran only managed a brief nap before she woke up. “Hazel, I am sweating so much. Can you help me wash up?” I brought over a basin of warm water and carefully wiped her down. Her frail hands shook violently from the pain, but she didn’t make a single sound. After I finished, she asked me to pull a brand new navy blue silk blouse from her suitcase. She gave a weak smile. “We are taking a photo. I cannot wear this ugly hospital gown.” I helped her into the blouse and gently brushed out her thin, white hair. By the time we were done, she was completely exhausted. She managed a few spoonfuls of broth before a fresh layer of cold sweat broke out across her forehead, threatening to soak the silk blouse she had just put on. She scratched weakly at her forearm. “Hazel, I think a mosquito bit me. It is so itchy.” She paused, looking deeply embarrassed, and added in a whisper, “Could you rub some of that scented water on me?” 15 The moment I looked down, hot tears flooded my eyes. This was a sterile, VIP hospital room on the tenth floor. There were no mosquitoes. She remembered what I told her. Sam was a germaphobe. She was terrified that the smell of her sick sweat and the heavy scent of hospital medicine would disgust him. I pretended I didn’t know what she was doing. I poured the fragrant cologne onto my fingers and gently rubbed it into her painfully thin arms. The cold liquid touched my skin, but it felt like a branding iron searing directly into my heart. “Oh, and give me a face mask,” she said quickly. “Sam is still so little, and I am so sick…” I fought hard to keep my voice steady. “Gran, they will not care…” “I know, I know. But I want to wear it.” She took the surgical mask, folded it neatly, and tucked it right next to her pillow. As she moved, the corner of two thick envelopes peeked out from under the pillowcase. Thinking I hadn’t noticed, she frantically shoved them deeper out of sight. But I already knew. The only reason she pushed so hard for this photo was because she wanted to see Pierce and Sam one last time. She wanted to hand them those two letters. Before she died, she wanted to entrust me, her only living relative, to the man I had loved for seven years, and the son I had birthed. She actually believed they were my safe harbor. Right at that moment, my phone lit up with a text from Pierce. [Something came up. I will bring Sam tomorrow instead.] That one sentence. It was like a rusty knife plunging directly into my chest and slowly twisting. I stood up, forcing a bright smile onto my face. “Gran, I have a quick emergency at work. I will be right back.” She had spent every last ounce of her failing energy preparing for this. Even if I had to drag them by their hair. I was going to put Pierce and Sam in front of her today. 16 I called Pierce. I called Sam’s smart watch. Neither of them picked up. I drove like a maniac to Vanguard Holdings, only for the receptionist to tell me Pierce had left after his morning meetings. I ripped the steering wheel to the side and sped straight toward the main estate. The second I walked through the door, the head maid gave me the news. Today was Daisy’s first day at her elite private school. Pierce took Sam and attended the ceremony as Daisy’s family. That was his ’emergency.’ At eight o’clock that night, the sound of laughter echoed from the front door. Pierce walked in holding Daisy, while Renee held Sam’s hand. They looked like a picture-perfect family. When Pierce saw me standing dead center in the living room, he instinctively set Daisy down and opened his mouth to explain. “Hazel, I…” I lunged forward and slapped him across the face with every single ounce of strength in my body. Smack! The explosive sound instantly killed the laughter in the room.

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Two years ago, my intermittent amnesia had completely healed. But I kept it a secret from everyone. Until today, when I overheard a conversation between my husband, Nate Caldwell, and his buddy. His buddy asked him if he wasn’t worried about them getting too real when I lost my memory every few months, and he had them pose as him to live with me. Nate swirled his drink, his tone dismissive, saying I was frigid, and as long as they didn’t actively flirt, I wouldn’t have any needs in that area. He even warned his buddies that they could act, but couldn’t actually touch me. He planned to return to his family once he was done playing around. So, in these three years, I had lost my memory nine times, and there had been nine different men pretending to be my husband. Those moments of holding hands, embracing, even sharing a bed—none of them were the real Nate Caldwell. 1 My ninth “husband” arrived home to find me sitting on the sofa, lost in thought. A clear voice broke my reverie: “Iris, I’m home.” I turned my head to look at the man at the doorway. “Who are you?” I frowned, feigning confusion. “Are you my husband? I recall my husband’s name is Nate Caldwell.” The man paused for a second, then immediately refuted: “No! That… I’m your husband’s friend! Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll call your husband to come back right now!” With that, the man pulled out his phone and hurried to the balcony. “Nate, she’s lost her memory again! Whose turn is it this time? Get over here and relieve me!” Hidden by the window, I heard Nate’s buddies squabbling through the speaker. “Nate, she’s too clingy, you have to watch her 24/7, we can’t handle it!” “Yeah, she’s great in every other way, but she’s too strict. What cat in this world doesn’t sneak a little fish?” “How about you just come back yourself, Nate?” “No,” Nate’s lazy voice came through the speaker. “I’m not done having fun yet, don’t want to go home. Who’s going to fill in for me? As brothers, it’s not cool to refuse such a simple favor, is it?” Amidst their excuses, a cool, clear voice spoke: “I’ll go.” I recognized it. It was Ethan Thorne, Nate’s best friend. Ethan was known in the social circles as a famously stoic gentleman, rumored to have been single for thirty years. When Nate first suggested finding someone to impersonate my husband, Ethan was the first to object. But now, was he also interested in playing this game of make-believe? Half an hour later, the front door clicked open. Ethan walked in, backlit by the evening sun. “Iris, I’m home.” His cool voice carried a hint of magnetism. I rose, steadily looking at the tall, handsome man before me. “You’re my husband, Nate Caldwell?” “Mm.” Ethan cleared his throat lightly, covering his lips. “Apologies, I worked late tonight, came home late.” No sooner had he spoken than his phone rang. Ethan made an apologetic gesture and took the call on the balcony. Through the earpiece, Nate’s nonchalant voice drifted out: “Oh, by the way, Ethan, I forgot to tell you, at most, just hold her hand, give her a hug. But for heaven’s sake, don’t sleep with her. No matter how much fun I’m having, she’s still my wife, and I’ll eventually come back to her.” “Got it,” Ethan’s voice was low. For three years, no matter how those men pretended to be Nate, they only ever held my hand or hugged me, never crossing the line. For three years, there were never any joint photos in the house, nor any identity documents of any man. They naturally assumed I wouldn’t find out. I also played along, pretending not to know a thing. But this time, I wanted to play a different game. I walked over and actively embraced Ethan’s waist. “Honey, even though I’ve lost my memory, the moment I saw you, I felt a special closeness. You must be my husband, no doubt about it.” I held Ethan’s waist tightly, my hand not forgetting to caress his firm abs. Ethan’s body stiffened for a moment, then he awkwardly pushed me away. “What’s wrong?” I asked innocently. “Honey, I’ve lost my memory. Don’t you like me anymore?” “No,” Ethan’s eyes flickered slightly, his voice hoarse, “…I like you.” I reached out to unbutton his shirt, my hand touching his chest muscles. “Honey, it’s so cold today. How about we go to bed and warm up together?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed: “…Okay.” That night, Ethan and I shared a bed. Yet, as if by unspoken agreement, we said nothing more. 2 The next day, Ethan took me to a bar, saying he wanted to reintroduce me to his friends. As soon as we entered the private room, we saw Nate passionately kissing a woman. Ethan cleared his throat, interrupting them. Nate saw us both, paused for a moment, then slowly stood up. “Hello, I’m Adrian, Nate’s childhood friend.” Nate extended his hand to me, introducing leisurely, “This is my girlfriend, Anna.” “Oh.” I nodded, not taking his hand. Anna. I knew her, of course. Nate Caldwell’s first love. They had broken up due to family reasons, then reconnected, secretly, while I was suffering from amnesia. Nate’s unwillingness to return home for three years was all because of her. There were many of Nate’s friends in the private room, several of whom had previously posed as my husband. At that moment, they all, as if nothing was amiss, jokingly said to me: “Iris, lost your memory again? Our Nate is truly a great guy; no matter how many times you forget, he’ll always stick by you!” “That’s right, Iris, you should cherish such a good man!” I curled my lips into a sarcastic smile, saying nothing. Ethan put his arm around me and sat me down on the sofa. As soon as we were seated, I picked up a piece of fruit and fed it to him: “Honey, eat more.” In the dim light, I glimpsed Nate’s eyes turn towards us. I leaned close to Ethan’s ear, deliberately nibbling his earlobe: “Honey, you were so hard all night, you hurt me so much~” Ethan’s face stiffened, and he awkwardly squeezed my hand: “Baby, don’t cause trouble.” Nate clutched his glass tightly, his face displeased. Anna, sitting next to him, snickered mockingly: “Iris, you really have a way about you. Our stoic gentleman, who usually keeps his distance from women in our circles, is acting like a lovesick teenager around you.” At her words, Nate’s friends, fearing I might catch on, all let out awkward laughs, trying to smooth things over: “Haha, well, that just shows how strong Iris and Nate’s relationship is!” “Yeah, even with memory loss, it doesn’t stop them from showing affection!” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Nate taking a sip of his drink, his face as dark as charcoal. A flicker of satisfaction went through me, and I rose to go to the restroom. As I came out of the restroom, Anna walked towards me. The moment we brushed past each other, with a “splash,” she spilled the entire glass of red wine on me. “Oh dear, my apologies, my hand slipped.” “Slap!” I raised my hand and slapped her hard. “My apologies, my hand slipped just now too.” No sooner had I spoken than a sharp rebuke came from behind me: “Iris Caldwell, what are you doing!” Nate strode over. Anna immediately flung herself into his arms, crying as if in the rain: “Honey, I just accidentally spilled wine on Iris, and she got angry and hit me. My head feels so dizzy now.” Nate’s face was grim, clearly displeased: “Apologize to Anna!” I scoffed: “Who are you to tell me what to do?” “Iris Caldwell!” Nate’s eyes were cold and menacing, his face terrifyingly dark. “How did you become so arrogant and overbearing after losing your memory?” “What I become has nothing to do with you.” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore. Just as I turned to leave, Nate kicked me in the knee, forcing me to fall to my knees with a “thud.” “Iris Caldwell, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’ve lost your memory. Apologize to Anna immediately!” Looking at the furious man before me, I felt both pathetic and ridiculous. I had no parents, and in this vast city, Nate Caldwell was my only reliance. We had been together for ten years, ever since we fell in love in college. When he proposed to me, he swore he would always protect and love me, that he would never betray me in this life. But now, he not only betrayed our marriage but also used violence against me for another woman. All the sweet words and solemn vows had turned into a joke. Amidst my sorrow and anger, Ethan’s sharp voice came from behind me: “Don’t touch her!” I endured the pain in my knee, stood up quickly, slapped Nate across the face, and then hid in Ethan’s arms, complaining: “Honey, your friend is so rude, he’s bullying me!” Ethan’s face was displeased, his eyes clouded with gloom, and his gaze towards Nate was full of warning: “Don’t bully Iris.” Nate gritted his back teeth, a furious expression on his grim face. Anna huddled in Nate’s arms, sneering dismissively: “A used bus and a rebound guy, what’s there to be so proud of?” “Shut up!” Nate and Ethan’s voices rang out simultaneously. 3 “Anna, Iris is wrong, but you shouldn’t insult her either.” Nate’s tone was cold and harsh. Ethan frowned deeply, looking at Anna, his eyes icy: “From now on, don’t let me hear you badmouthing Iris again.” With that, he put his arm around me and strode away. We went straight home. As soon as we entered, I embraced Ethan’s waist, my hand caressing his firm abs a few times. “Honey, you looked so handsome protecting me just now, I love it!” Ethan’s ears tinged with a blush, and he lightly cleared his throat: “As long as you like it.” I reached out to unbuckle his belt. “Honey, the weather’s too cold. Let’s go exercise in bed and warm up, shall we?” “…It’s still early.” “Who says you have to wait until a certain time to go to bed?” I kissed his Adam’s apple, coaxing softly, “Honey, I’ve lost my memory, and I can’t remember what intimacy feels like… Can you help me recall?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice heavily hoarse: “Iris… don’t tease.” I simply pushed him onto the sofa. Ethan struggled for two seconds, then flipped over, pinning me beneath him. From afternoon to late night, Ethan was like a ravenous wolf tasting meat for the first time, knowing the flavor and never sated. I was so exhausted I fell into a deep sleep. In a hazy state, I heard Ethan’s husky voice asking in my ear: “Iris, are you really suffering from amnesia?” I opened my mouth but said nothing. Did it even matter anymore, whether I was or wasn’t?

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After catching Liam cheating, I cut ties with him without hesitation. Later, I joined a tour group to clear my mind, only to encounter a rare blizzard and get trapped in a glacier at minus thirty degrees. On the verge of death, Liam trekked through the snow to find me. He stripped off every layer of clothing from his body and wrapped them tightly around me. “Claire, don’t sleep. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just beg you to survive.” “If there’s a next life, I swear I won’t betray you.” When the rescue team arrived, he was frozen solid in the position of holding me. The rescuers had to cut his hands open with a knife to separate us. After his death, I lived to eighty, carrying the guilt of what he’d done for me. When I opened my eyes again, I’d returned to one year before his affair. In this life, he decisively severed all ties with Mia, even kicking her out of the company right in front of me. Everyone marveled at how deeply Liam loved me, down to his very bones. Until the night before our wedding, I heard his inner thoughts: [Reborn into this life, I’m finally about to have her.] [This time, I’ll hide Mia well. Claire will never find out.]

So Liam had been reborn too. But just like in the last life, he chose to betray me again. He just didn’t know I could hear his thoughts. Liam was kneeling on one knee before me, helping me into my high heels, his fingers caressing my ankle. “You’ll be standing all day tomorrow. If these hurt, I’ll get you a different pair.” Just as I thought I was hallucinating, I heard him again. [Mia’s arch is so beautiful. I could hold it in my hands and admire it all day. Not like Claire’s flat feet—no curve at all. Touching them doesn’t even excite me.] My stomach churned. The scene of catching them in bed in my previous life flashed vividly before my eyes. The dim hotel suite. Clothes scattered everywhere on the floor. Mia’s pale ankle propped on Liam’s shoulder as he turned his head to press hot kisses against it. “Claire?” Liam’s fingers tightened. “Why are your feet so cold?” I jerked my foot back. The stiletto heel scraped across the carpet with a muffled sound. “What’s wrong?” I forced myself to stay calm. “Nothing. Just a little cold.” Liam took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Mixed in with the fabric was a faint, sickeningly sweet scent of powder and perfume that didn’t belong to him. I suddenly spoke up. “What do you think of Mia?” Liam’s hand, which had been fixing my hair, froze. His face showed undisguised disgust. “Mia’s just pretty, that’s all. She’s actually worthless. I feel sick just looking at her.” He gripped my hand tightly, desperately trying to distance himself. “Claire, I already fired her from the company. I have no connection with her whatsoever. Even if she stripped naked and stood in front of me, I wouldn’t give her a second glance!” In this life, every time Mia approached him, he pushed her away mercilessly. He looked like he hated her even more than I did. At my birthday party, Mia barged in recklessly and knocked over the champagne tower. Glass shards cut my calf. Liam was furious. He grabbed an unopened bottle of red wine from the table and poured it over her from head to toe. “Get out! Don’t let me see you again, or I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this city!” After shouting this, he turned to order security to clear her out, then softened his tone toward me. “I’ll deal with this crazy woman. Don’t let her ruin your birthday.” A flash of panic crossed Liam’s eyes. “Claire, why are you suddenly bringing her up?” [Did she find out something? I showered twice before coming here today. There shouldn’t be any trace.] [I’ve learned my lesson this life. I’ve hidden everything perfectly. Just one more day. Once we’re married, she’ll be mine completely.] I looked at his upturned face. In the last life, this face had been frozen blue and purple in the icy wilderness, frost coating his eyelashes. When he wrapped his last coat around me, even his breath came out with bloody foam. I wanted to spend this lifetime repaying his sacrifice, but he wanted to use this lifetime to deceive me again. He didn’t regret the affair itself—only that he hadn’t hidden it well enough. Thinking about the wedding, he frowned. [Last time at Claire’s birthday party, I poured that glass of wine on Mia and she threw such a tantrum.] [That night I had to coax her for so long, licking the wine off her chest bit by bit before she’d let me touch her. She’ll definitely throw another fit after tomorrow’s wedding. I need to figure out how to appease her.] His thoughts slithered like a venomous snake, crawling into my mind. After he hurried away that birthday night, he never came back. While I sat in the lounge picking bloody glass shards from my calf with tweezers, waiting from daylight to darkness, he had his head buried in Mia’s chest. A chill shot up from my feet straight to my heart. I looked at his flawless expression and asked softly. “You’re disgusted by her because she acts like a lunatic?” He nodded without hesitation. “Of course. How could she compare to you?” I slowly withdrew my hand from his palm. “You’re forgetting the most important thing.” “Mia killed your mother.”

The muscles in Liam’s face twitched violently. The scene from five years ago flooded between us like icy water. Liam’s mother had suffered from severe asthma for years. That year, in a moment of kindness, she sponsored Mia, a student from a poor background, and even invited her home. But out of jealousy over how well Liam’s mother treated me, Mia played a cruel prank—she replaced all the emergency asthma medication on the nightstand with white vitamin pills. Late that night, Liam’s mother had an asthma attack and collapsed in the hallway, clutching her throat in agony, gasping for help. And Mia just stood three steps away, holding up her phone with a giggle, recording a video. “Stop pretending. I just saw you—you were fine.” Liam’s mother died of suffocation amid those piercing, desperate gasps for air. When Liam arrived at the hospital, all he saw was a body covered with a white sheet, and that video Mia had posted on social media, bragging about her “prank.” Liam knelt outside the morgue, his eyes bloodshot, and vomited up a mouthful of blood. His mother had raised him alone. She was the only light in his life within this family full of cold calculations. He held me and cried like a child whose soul had been drained. “Claire, I don’t have a mother anymore. I only have you.” For three months after that, he locked himself in a pitch-black basement. Self-harm. Starvation. I was the one who fed him cold oatmeal spoonful by spoonful into his trembling mouth. I was the one who held his skeletal body and shielded him from the nightmares that wanted to kill him. I was the one who walked with him through that coldest sea of death. “I haven’t forgotten.” Liam’s eyes instantly reddened, his voice vicious as he gritted his teeth. “A woman that evil wouldn’t be worth my mother’s life even if she died ten thousand times.” “Claire, if you hadn’t been with me, I would’ve died long ago. In my eyes, Mia isn’t even worth as much as a prostitute.” His eyes were red-rimmed, veins bulging on the back of his hand. But his thoughts struck like a sledgehammer, shattering all the devotion I’d given during those years. [It’s been so long. Mia was only eighteen then. She just wanted to play a joke. How was she supposed to know it was life-saving medication?!] [She’s already been so guilt-ridden she’s cut her wrists twice. Her wrists are covered in scars. Why is Claire so vicious, insisting on dragging up things about dead people?] [Mia is so kind she wouldn’t even step on an ant. She’s been having nightmares and crying lately. I can barely keep up with comforting her.] [The dead aren’t as important as the living. The past isn’t as important as the future.] My nails dug deep into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped blood marks. How ridiculous. On the surface, he said he’d never forgive her, but secretly he felt sorry for the scars on his murderer’s wrists. The three months I spent with him meant less to him than a few fake tears from Mia. Thinking I was caught up in grief over his mother’s death, he reached out to comfort me, but I dodged him. I stared hard at his ring finger, my eyes burning, almost splitting open. This wasn’t our wedding ring. Our wedding rings were supposed to be a pair of simple bands he’d designed himself, with our initials engraved inside. He’d said the purest love needed no elaborate decoration. But what he wore now on his ring finger was a pink diamond ring—clearly a women’s style of couple’s ring. It was even the wrong size, stuck at his knuckle and leaving a glaring red mark.

Liam followed my gaze downward. His hand flinched violently. He quickly clenched it into a fist and shoved it into his suit pocket. “Claire.” He took a deep breath. When he looked at me again, his eyes brimmed with gentle apology. “I was going to surprise you at tomorrow’s wedding, but you found out early.” He pulled his hand back out and opened it in front of me. “I saw you staring at pink diamonds in magazines lately, so I secretly commissioned a French craftsman to make one. When I picked it up earlier, the clerk said the size might be a bit tight, so I tried it on myself and it got stuck.” He even laughed self-deprecatingly. “I couldn’t wait to see how it looks on you.” What a seamless excuse. The next second, his thoughts drilled into my ears. [Damn it! How did I wear Mia’s ring back?!] [I was in such a rush getting out of bed at the hotel, I put on the wrong ring. I absolutely can’t let her know I made wedding rings for Mia too.] Three hours ago, he’d called me in that gentle voice, telling me an overseas acquisition had run into urgent issues and he needed to join a cross-continental video conference. He told me to go try on my wedding dress alone. His “cross-continental video conference” took place in a hotel bed. He’d prepared wedding rings for both of us. With the same hands that had pulled me from a glacier in the last life, he’d caressed Mia’s body. With the same lips that had sworn to me “never to betray you in the next life,” he’d kissed away Mia’s tears. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. “Is that so?” I heard my own voice. “But the engraving inside this ring doesn’t look like my name.” Liam’s pupils constricted sharply. The color drained from his face at a visible rate. Even his breathing stopped for a second. He covered the ring tightly. “The inside says ‘eternity’ in French. The letters are too small—you must have misread it. Tomorrow when it’s on your finger, you can look more carefully.” His phone rang. He glanced at me, indicating it was work. He walked quickly toward the floor-to-ceiling window, deliberately lowering his voice. “Didn’t I tell you not to contact me at this time?” After hearing what the person on the other end said, his expression changed drastically. He hung up and headed for the door. [Mia’s morning sickness is getting worse. She needs me most right now. If I keep stalling, she’ll only suffer more.] [I need to get there quickly. Claire can’t get pregnant, but Mia’s different. That’s my first child. Nothing can go wrong!] In sophomore year, he got cornered in an alley by some thugs during a fight. The thugs came prepared with knives. Without hesitation, I rushed forward and took the blade for him. Blood stained his palms. The doctor said my body was damaged. I’d never be able to have children. He slapped himself twice hard across the face. “Claire, I’ve failed you.” “It doesn’t matter if we can’t have kids. If you want, we can adopt. If you don’t, we’ll just have our life together, just the two of us.” And now, he had a child with his mother’s murderer. The lies ground the past into dust, leaving only desolation. He strode toward the door. “There’s a major crisis with the investment deal. The funding chain is stuck. I have to go to the office to handle it.” After he left, I called a friend and had her pull Mia’s medical records. Half an hour later, an electronic medical file arrived on my phone. Six weeks pregnant. Counting back, it was exactly the night of my birthday. A sense of absurdity overwhelmed me. I wanted to call my father to cancel tomorrow’s wedding. My finger hovered over the dial button. That was impossible. The invitations had all been sent out. The hotel was booked. No one would believe me. Liam had played his part too well. He’d fooled not just me, but everyone around me. In this world, everyone would vouch for Liam’s devotion. Everyone would think I was the unreasonable one in this relationship. I wiped away my tears forcefully, my lips curling into a smile. Then let everyone watch the show. I sent Mia a wedding invitation with a note: “Come watch your man make his vows to me.” On the wedding day, I watched the tears glistening in my mother’s eyes. She held my hand and patted it gently. “Claire, I’m so happy today. Liam is such a rare, good man. Your father and I are completely at ease with you marrying him.” At the groom’s table across from us, Liam’s father sat upright. Unsmiling, his brow habitually furrowed, yet even he made an exception today and raised his glass. Liam’s father was a traditional man. Since his wife’s death, he’d never remarried. He looked at me, his voice steady. “I’ve always taught Liam to be a man of responsibility! To love only one woman his whole life. If he dares wrong you, I’ll break his legs.”

Their laughter echoed through the lavish banquet hall. I looked at Liam in the distance, mingling with guests. He wore a perfectly tailored custom suit, his posture upright. A perfectly measured gentle smile played on his lips. If I didn’t know that the hickeys on his neck were covered with concealer, I might have been fooled into thinking this really was just an ordinary wedding. Suddenly, the heavy doors of the banquet hall were forcefully pushed open. Mia stood at the entrance. She wore a glaringly inappropriate bright red halter dress, the slit reaching her upper thigh. So red it was blinding—like a piece of bloodied flesh freshly torn from someone’s body. The guests around fell silent instantly, their gazes shifting between her and me. She walked straight toward Liam and reached out to grab his sleeve. In that instant of pulling and tugging, I saw clearly—Mia discreetly slipped a crumpled note into Liam’s suit sleeve. “Mr. Blackwood, I came to see how beautiful Claire looks today.” “I don’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to be part of the most important day of your life.” The smile vanished from Liam’s face instantly. He jerked his hand away from Mia as if electrocuted, stepping back two large paces. “Get out! Where’s security? How did trash like this get in here?!” He turned to look at me, panic flooding his eyes. “Claire, don’t misunderstand. I never invited her! She’s like a leech, showing up on her own.” Liam’s father’s expression darkened. “Liam, deal with this disgusting woman. Don’t let her dirty Claire’s eyes.” Security rushed over and grabbed Mia by both arms, forcibly dragging her toward the exit. “These clothes she touched make me sick.” Liam’s eyes filled with apology. “There are twenty minutes until the ceremony. I’ll go upstairs to the suite and change into a backup suit. I’ll be right back.” Before the elevator doors closed, I heard his thoughts. [Mia looks so beautiful today. That dress definitely has nothing underneath.] [The note says room 8012 upstairs. This little vixen, demanding I give her passionate sex right now.] [Got to make it quick. Having sex with her while wearing the groom’s suit—she’s definitely going to scream loud.] Mia had prepared ahead of time, slipping through the back door upstairs to wait for him in the suite. Seems my words yesterday really got to her. Only openly cuckolding me could satisfy her. Ten minutes later, I activated the micro-camera in my necklace pendant and looked at my parents and relatives beside me. “Liam prepared a wedding gift for everyone. Come with me to get it.” Dozens of friends and family followed behind me in a grand procession. Liam’s father walked at the front, his face wearing a gratified smile. Walking on the thick wool carpet, my high heels made no sound at all. Closer and closer to him. The man’s heavy panting exploded in my mind again. [So pale, so soft. The way that waist moves—I’d give my life for her.] My mother reached out to help adjust my heavy wedding dress train, then said: “Claire, you’re going to be so happy. A couple years ago when you had that high fever, Liam brought a folding bed into your hospital room and stayed by your bedside all night. Even the nurses said they’d never seen a man who loved his wife so much.” A relative immediately chimed in: “That’s right! Everyone in our circle knows how devoted Liam is, and how much he dotes on you.” “Last Christmas, to buy you a strawberry cake, his car broke down halfway. He walked five miles through the snow. When he got back, his ears were frostbitten.” Liam’s father’s voice was steady as he advised me: “Liam’s been raised by me to be rigid since childhood. He doesn’t know romance, but he takes after me—he only has eyes for his wife.” “That crazy woman Mia just now, don’t give her a second thought.” “You saw Liam’s attitude. Even touching her makes him sick.” But at this moment, my attention was focused only on Liam’s thoughts: [Mia really isn’t wearing anything under that dress. I was getting hard downstairs in the hall.] [If Claire and Dad hadn’t been right there, I would’ve wanted to bend Mia over the table right then and fuck her hard.] I lifted my feet and walked forward step by step. The heavy train of my wedding dress dragged across the floor with soft rustling sounds. Closer. Even closer. I stopped at the suite door. Dozens of relatives and friends stopped behind me. Everyone was smiling warmly at this door. I gripped the cold metal handle and pushed down with all my strength. Click. The door opened.

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