Category: English

The blizzard grounded every flight out of Zurich, leaving me stranded in a sea of frustrated travelers inside the packed terminal. My phone screen suddenly lit up with a push notification. It was a video of Declan and Nancy holding their championship trophies. The comment section was already flooded with people calling them a literal power couple and the golden duo of the interpreting world. What stung the most was the little tag at the top. The video had just been shared and recommended by Declan himself. My fingers went numb as I opened our chat. More than a dozen unread messages sat pitifully on the screen. It was just me, rambling about my day, begging for his help. I had grown so used to talking to a brick wall. I was so used to chasing a silhouette that never bothered to look back. But right then, the sheer exhaustion of it all finally broke me. I had scored half a band higher than Nancy on the advanced French fluency exam. I was the one who originally signed up for this simultaneous interpreting competition with him. Why was someone else standing next to him, soaking up the flowers and the applause? It took me until this very moment to realize the truth. The real distance between us was never about test scores. This was already the nineteenth time he had unilaterally decided we were over. 1 Hour twenty three of being trapped in the Zurich airport. I watched that short video clip until I memorized every frame. When the winner of the French interpreting championship was announced, Nancy wept tears of joy and threw herself right into Declan’s arms. They were an incredibly attractive pair, so naturally, the embrace sent the internet into a frenzy. Declan rubbed her back to comfort her. Then, with a gentle touch I rarely ever saw, he picked a stray piece of confetti out of her hair. That single, simple gesture had the gossips screaming. “This is true love! A couple with matched intellects is just superior!” The internet era was truly magical. A snippet barely lasting a few seconds already had over a million likes. The comments praised them as a romance novel brought to life. Some internet sleuths even dug up their real life details. “That’s Declan! The absolute god of Yale’s linguistics department. He speaks five languages fluently. He went viral before for his looks during a debate, but his actual skills are terrifying.” “No wonder they took the gold. Partnering up with your girlfriend means the chemistry is off the charts.” The comments kept refreshing. I read them one by one until my eyes burned. Then, the words ‘Recommended by Declan’ popped up on my screen. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. So he was looking at his phone. He had the time to share a viral video of himself and Nancy. He just did not have the time to reply to my desperate cries for help. I was originally supposed to be his partner for this competition in Switzerland. During our layover, he abruptly informed me that Nancy would be taking my place. Yes, informed. He did not discuss it with me. He did not ask for my opinion. Winning this championship guaranteed a fully funded spot in a prestigious overseas grad program in Paris. Declan knew exactly how much this competition meant to me. I wanted to study abroad with him so badly. I practiced from dawn until midnight. I was so sleep deprived my roommates thought I was going to drop dead. My throat was so swollen from speaking drills that I completely lost my voice for a week. I simply could not accept his ridiculous decision. The fragile string holding my sanity together snapped. I broke down and demanded a reason. Declan just sounded utterly indifferent. “Serena, don’t you think you are being incredibly dramatic?” My brain stalled. I had no idea what he meant. “Excuse me?” “I mean your attitude is rarely serious. I simply do not trust you to perform well under the pressure of a live stage.” I felt completely lost. I forced a smile, still trying to negotiate with him. “How can you say that? We practiced together so many times, and you saw my progress. I just scored an 8.5 on the advanced French fluency index. Doesn’t that prove I am capable enough?” Declan cut me off with ice in his voice. “What exactly is there to be proud of with an 8.5?” “You swore up and down you would get a perfect score. And what happened? You are stuck in the exact same percentile every single time. Are you even trying?” “Serena, you grew up traveling the world with your parents. You enjoy a bottomless bank account and endless educational resources. How is it possible that you still can’t master a second language perfectly?” Those three rapid fire questions choked the air right out of my lungs. I knew he was obsessively disciplined. His academic standards bordered on absolute insanity. Back in the day, I studied until I made myself sick just to crack the top ten in our major. That was the only way I managed to catch the eye of the untouchable academic god. Declan had sky high ambitions. He didn’t care about romance or grand gestures. His only goal was to become the top interpreter in his field. He always said his girlfriend had to be equally exceptional. Just to stand by his side, I killed my own lazy habits. I buried myself in suffocating coursework right along with him. Just to keep up with his shadow, I gave it everything I had. I earned scholarships I never thought I could get. I collected certifications like spare change. Even the strictest professors praised my work. But from Declan, I received absolutely zero validation. I could never figure out why. I just kept comforting myself by saying he was naturally a harsh critic. Yet he handed my hard earned spot to Nancy, a girl whose grades were objectively worse than mine. A bitter seed of jealousy and resentment took root in my chest. It grew wild and out of control, wrapping tight around my heart. Even drawing breath hurt. I could not pretend to be calm anymore. “And what about her? Is her 7.0 suddenly the standard of excellence? Is that why you let her replace me?” Declan paused. When he spoke, his voice dripped with cold impatience. “Nancy is not like you. She actually works hard.” “Without your parents’ money paving the way, you wouldn’t even be in the same league as her.” I laughed out loud. It was a harsh, breathless sound. Then I hung up the phone. Works hard. Parents’ money. With just a few lightweight words, he entirely erased years of my blood, sweat, and tears. I tilted my head back, but thick tears still crashed down onto my phone screen. I lost the battle with my emotions. I opened our messages and started a massive argument with him. It ended exactly how it always did. Declan pulled his favorite trick and told me we were done. 2 If I actually sat down and counted, this was roughly the nineteenth time Declan initiated a breakup over academics. My French accent wasn’t authentic enough. I got an A instead of an A plus. I dropped one spot in the class rankings. Any of these were valid grounds for him to dump me. He measured the entire worth of our relationship against his own freezing, mechanical rubrics. He never cared when my menstrual cramps left me bedridden. He didn’t notice my new dresses. He never cared about the cute restaurants I wanted to try. Only a flawless transcript could earn me a kiss or a rare moment of affection. Half the time, I wondered if I was dating a cyborg. But the second I looked at his handsome, aloof face, my brain would turn to mush. In the end, I was always the one begging to get back together. Declan was fully aware of this dynamic. That was exactly why he threw the word ‘breakup’ around without a second thought. After all, I was the one who chased him relentlessly. The person who loves more always ends up losing their dignity. But this time, my fingers hovered over the keyboard. I stared at the screen for an eternity, completely unable to type out an apology. While I was still in a daze, I got a frantic phone call. My dad had suffered a sudden heart attack. I panicked and tried to book the first flight back to the States, only to discover every single route was canceled. That was when I finally looked out the massive glass windows. A heavy, blinding snowstorm had swallowed the city. The entire airport infrastructure was paralyzed. I felt like someone had ripped my spine out. I stumbled around the terminal, frantically trying to find someone who could help. I didn’t speak German. My French vocabulary completely scrambled in my panic. Halfway through trying to explain my situation to a staff member in English, my throat closed up, choked by violent sobs. Strangers shot me looks of deep pity, but they could only shake their heads. The more anxious I got, the worse my hands shook. I wiped the tears off my screen. The only person I could think of was Declan. He knew people in Zurich. He definitely had the connections to get me on an emergency flight home. I sent him over a dozen messages. I got absolute silence in return. I was trapped in that terminal all night. I cried until my eyes were completely dry. It wasn’t until dawn that I got the text saying my dad was out of surgery and stabilizing. Not long after that, the algorithm pushed that viral video onto my feed. A little green dot glowed next to Declan’s profile picture. He was online. I opened our chat and scrolled up. My heart plummeted straight into the abyss. The entire right side of the screen was just blocks of green text. It was my own pathetic monologue. He always claimed he was too busy studying to text back. I respected his focus. I accommodated his habits. I literally forced myself to stop being talkative just to please him. But today, the illusion shattered. He wasn’t too busy for his phone. He didn’t hate social media. He just didn’t give a damn about me. I wasn’t asking him to move mountains. A single text asking if I was okay would have been enough. He gave me nothing. While I was having a mental breakdown begging for his help, was he just rewatching his own victory speech? Or was he busy reading all the comments saying he and Nancy were soulmates? At this point, the answer didn’t even matter. Loving someone this much was utterly exhausting. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life chasing a ghost. It was better to just end it here and cut my losses. I didn’t try to contact him again. The moment I finally landed in the States, I went straight to the hospital to see my dad. The freezing night in the airport caught up to me. I developed a low grade fever and slept in a haze until the next morning. A phone call woke me up. It was one of the guys from my cohort. “Serena, are you not coming to Declan’s welcome back dinner? He’s drinking pretty heavy, and we are not babysitting him!” I opened my mouth to decline, but the guy quickly added more pressure. “Professor Bennett is here too. Are you absolutely sure you want to skip?” Professor Bennett had mentored me through the early stages of the competition. He had always looked out for me. Out of sheer respect for him, I couldn’t just brush it off. But when I pushed the private dining room door open, the room was entirely filled with students. There wasn’t a professor in sight. Nancy was pressed right up against Declan’s side. She looked at me and giggled. “Sorry, Serena. We were just playing Truth or Dare.” “Declan’s dare was to trick you into coming here. We really didn’t think you would actually show up!” 3 The fever made my whole body feel heavy and sluggish. My brain was a step behind. It was a long rectangular table. Everyone else was scattered on the sides, leaving Declan and Nancy sitting dead center like royalty. They looked like the real couple. I was just the intruder crashing their party. Right. I almost forgot. Declan and I were officially broken up. I had absolutely no right to be angry or jealous. When I just stood there without reacting, Nancy’s smile froze. She suddenly jumped up, looking incredibly flustered. “I am so sorry. This was the only empty seat earlier. I will go sit somewhere else right now.” But Declan reached out and pulled her right back down. His voice was laced with alcohol. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “Serena, leave Nancy alone.” He had that same, infuriatingly calm expression. I literally hadn’t said a single word. How was I the one being unreasonable? The irony made me sick. I dug my nails hard into my palms, trying to steady my trembling legs. I turned around, fully intending to walk right back out. One of Declan’s roommates rushed over and grabbed my arm. He pulled a chair up on Declan’s other side. “Come on, Serena, don’t be mad. We were just messing around. It’s a huge night, none of us want Declan’s girl missing out. You look super pale. Have you even eaten? Just sit down and get some food in you.” Standing was somewhat manageable. Sitting down and smelling the heavy grease of the restaurant food made my stomach violently churn. I gripped my chopsticks tight, swallowing down the nausea. “Declan and I broke up. Did he forget to mention that?” The chaotic noise in the private room vanished instantly. You could hear a pin drop. Clatter. Nancy’s chopsticks hit the floor. She muttered a quiet apology. When she bent down to pick them up, a tiny smirk flashed across her lips before vanishing entirely. Declan’s perfect composure finally cracked. He furrowed his brows and glared at me. “Serena, do you have to ruin the mood for everyone?” I stood up briskly and let out a dry laugh. “Then I will just leave.” “I am clearly irrelevant here. I won’t ruin your celebration any longer.” Without another word, I walked out of the restaurant. My fast walk quickly turned into a run. The freezing night wind sliced against my face like actual blades. But this masochistic, physical pain somehow made the suffocating ache in my chest feel a little better. I thought I had run far enough. I finally collapsed by a streetlamp, dry heaving from exhaustion. Then I heard Declan’s voice right behind me. He wasn’t just exceptionally smart. He was athletic, with long, terrifyingly fast strides. He had chased me down while dragging his rolling suitcase, not looking out of breath in the slightest. “Explain yourself. You want to throw us away just because Nancy took your spot?” He reached out to pull me up, but his tone was full of that typical, condescending interrogation. I slapped his hand away and turned my face. “Do you even need to ask? You were the one who dumped me.” Being sick made me disgustingly fragile. The tears just kept coming, no matter how hard I scrubbed my eyes. I rubbed my cheeks until they burned, silently cursing myself for being so pathetic. Suddenly, a warm weight settled against my back. The familiar scent of his clean soap, mixed heavily with expensive liquor, wrapped around me. He pulled me into his chest with one arm, using his free hand to pinch my cheek and shake it lightly. His voice dropped low, his hot breath brushing against my ear. “I’m sorry. You know I only said that because I was angry.” “It was wrong of me to let Nancy replace you. But her family is drowning in debt. She needed this opportunity way more than you did.” “You are completely different. You have endless options. You can just pay out of pocket to study abroad with me, and we can still be partners in the program.” He then pressed a small, red velvet jewelry box into my palm. “An apology gift. Stop being mad at me, okay?” My entire body went rigid. My brain short circuited. A drunk Declan was terrifyingly affectionate. It was overwhelming. He was notoriously rigid. On a normal day, he wouldn’t even hold my hand unless we were hidden on a quiet campus trail. Apologizing while pulling me into a hug? That was unheard of. I stared blankly at the velvet box in my hand. I opened it. When I saw what was resting on the cushion, the tiny bit of hope that had just resurrected plummeted straight down and shattered. 4 The earrings inside were promotional freebies from a niche boutique brand. On my cab ride back this morning, I had scrolled past a massive photo dump on Nancy’s Instagram. In the center photo, she was wearing a thick scarf from this exact same brand, flashing a peace sign at the camera. It was a live photo. The background audio was piercingly clear. “Thank you for the gift, Declan! I promise I’ll keep working hard!” Followed immediately by Declan’s low, soft chuckle. The tiny box in my hand suddenly felt like burning lead. It ground whatever miserable scraps of self esteem I had left into fine dust. I thought about it with deep, pathetic irony. Why did I have to click on her post? If I hadn’t seen that picture, I never would have known the gift he was using to pacify me was literally a piece of trash another girl didn’t want. Wouldn’t it be so nice to just be an ignorant idiot, happily accepting my little prize? This was just sad. I felt like an absolute joke. The corner of my mouth twitched. “Never again,” I whispered. “I’m never doing this again.” I would never shamelessly throw myself at him again. And I sure as hell wasn’t following him across the world. “Hmm?” Declan didn’t catch my whisper. He narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer. A bright, sweet voice shattered the moment. “Um… am I interrupting something?” Nancy was standing there, wrapped up warm in that exact scarf, looking at me with wide, timid eyes. “Declan, I think I left a few things in your suitcase.” Declan nodded casually and unzipped his luggage. She reached right into the inner mesh pocket and pulled out a makeup bag and a box of tampons. I felt like I was nailed to the concrete. I just watched how incredibly natural their routine was. The howling wind sounded like it was laughing at me. It was mocking my entire existence. “Oh, um… Serena, please don’t get the wrong idea. My period started right before the finals, so I had to beg Declan to run to the pharmacy for me. Plus, my suitcase was completely over the weight limit…” Nancy nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, making sure she sounded suitably pitiful. I stared right into her bright, defiant eyes. It was crazy how much things changed. Who would have thought the painfully shy, sunburnt scholarship kid from freshman year would blossom into this confident, manipulative girl? Back then, I genuinely considered Nancy a friend. I was terrified she felt left out, so I constantly dragged her to meals and study sessions. I gave her my clothes, my expensive skincare, everything. I never imagined she would set her sights on Declan, or that she would completely backstab me to steal my competition slot. It felt like I swallowed a handful of crushed glass. I couldn’t cough it up, and I couldn’t force it down. I heard my own voice echoing, hoarse and mocking. “Did the hotel you stayed at not have a front desk? Were there absolutely zero other women in the entire competition circuit?” “You just had to force a guy with a girlfriend to go buy your feminine products? Wow, you and your precious Declan must have a really special bond.” “Serena!” Declan practically roared. “Since when did you become so classless? I just did a favor for a classmate in need. Do you really have to twist it into something so filthy?” “Apologize to Nancy right now!” Nancy’s eyes were already swimming in dramatic tears. “Serena, I know you are still furious that I took your spot.” “But you literally have everything. You don’t need one little competition. Please, can you just forgive me?” Declan gripped her trembling shoulders, his voice instantly softening. “It is not your fault.” Then, he turned his glare back to me, his tone hardening. “Serena. Apologize.” “Why the hell should I?” I raised my voice, my vision blurring with hot, angry tears. Declan didn’t even bother looking at me anymore. He gently guided Nancy to the curb and hailed a cab for her. I didn’t blink. I just watched him display a level of patience he had never, ever shown me. He leaned into the window, softly comforting the sobbing girl. The amber glow of the streetlights caught a warm, genuine smile on his face. I inhaled a lungful of freezing air. The cold sank straight into my bones. It reminded me of the time I had to get emergency appendicitis surgery. My dad was tied up overseas on business and couldn’t make it back in time. I was lying in the hospital, so incredibly lonely. I just wanted to see Declan for five minutes. If he had just held my hand and said a few nice words, the pain wouldn’t have been so bad. But as my boyfriend, his only response was a freezing text. ‘I am busy with finals.’ He couldn’t even be bothered to fake a shred of concern. Seeing him tonight made everything crystal clear. Declan was not a heartless studying machine. He was perfectly capable of loving someone. Being loved gives a person life. But so does the act of loving someone else. The problem was simply that the person bringing Declan to life was not me. It was never me.

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The moment the cameras started rolling for the live broadcast interview, I found myself sitting on stage next to the entertainment industry’s most notorious two-faced starlet. She did not waste a single second. The moment the host gave her the floor, she came at me with guns blazing, declaring to millions of viewers that she was going to expose my lies. She claimed, with absolute certainty, that she was the secret wife of the Oscar-winning A-lister, Cole. The studio audience gasped, and the live stream chat exploded into absolute chaos. A tidal wave of vicious comments flooded the screen behind us. “I knew Bianca was a fraud! She wears matching designer outfits with Cole just to leech off his fame!” “That is what D-list actresses do. If they do not cling to a real star, they fade into nowhere!” “Now the real wife is here to set the record straight. Rip her fake mask off, Kelly!” I sat quietly, watching the malicious comments scrolling across the massive LED screen. I mentally chewed over the situation. Cole? The name sounded incredibly familiar. Right. I remembered now. He was my legally adopted stepson. 1 “Kelly? We are on a live broadcast. You…” The host looked at Kelly with visible panic, entirely unprepared for this off-script ambush. Realizing the main camera was zooming in on her, Kelly’s expression instantly shifted into a picture of pure, heartbreaking victimhood. Her voice trembled perfectly as she cried out. “I know we are live! I just want Bianca to explain herself to the entire country. I want her to explain her disgusting relationship with my husband!” I had been dragged onto this talk show at the very last minute. Facing this sudden, unhinged accusation, my mind briefly went blank. I honestly thought Kelly had just misunderstood something. I figured a simple explanation would clear the air. Before I could even open my mouth, she lunged across the velvet sofa, raised her hand, and slapped me hard across the face. “Bianca! You have been in this industry for years! Have you no shame? How could you try to seduce someone else’s fiancé?!” The stinging impact left my ears ringing. Just as she raised her hand to strike me a second time, my reflexes kicked in. I shoved her back hard. “Are you out of your mind?!” The host scrambled forward, grabbing Kelly by the arm. “Please! We are live! This is a live feed!” Kelly did not care. She pointed a manicured finger at me, tears streaming down her flawless makeup. “I hired private investigators! I have photos of you sneaking out of my husband’s private estate!” “You need to explain yourself right now! What exactly is your relationship with him?!” Seeing her push so aggressively, a heavy knot of irritation formed in my chest. I decided to just tell the absolute truth. “Cole and I have lived together in the same house for years. That is our relationship!” The live studio audience erupted into deafening shrieks. The live chat scrolling on the screen went completely feral. [What the hell?! Didn’t Kelly just say she was the real wife?! How does Bianca have the audacity to claim she lives with a Hollywood A-lister?!] [For years?! Oh my god. Bianca has been playing the innocent girl next door this whole time, but she is actually a shameless homewrecker!] [This show is going down in history! Catching a mistress live on air. This is insane!] Kelly clearly did not expect me to be so brutally honest. Her curated tears fell even faster. “I have endured this in silence for so long. Time and time again, you post photos on your Instagram wearing his exact clothes. You even use his private bedroom as your background! Do you have no dignity?!” I glanced down at the printed screenshots she threw onto the coffee table. The so-called matching designer pieces were actually birthday gifts Cole had bought for me. Even though I was only five years older than him, he never once treated me like a gold digger trying to steal his father’s empire. Years ago, he was mobbed by aggressive paparazzi and nearly shoved into oncoming traffic. I threw myself in front of a speeding car to shield him. Because of that day, he had treated me with nothing but the utmost respect ever since. He was actually the one who begged me to come on this show today. He had told me his fiancée was going to announce their relationship on air. He was terrified his intense fanbase would tear her apart, so he asked me to be there to guide the conversation and protect her. I did not think much of it and agreed to help. I never expected Kelly’s grand plan was to publicly execute me. “I came here today to expose Bianca to the world! She is not the woman in Cole’s life! I am!” “You are just an aging actress trying to climb into a penthouse where you do not belong!” If she genuinely misunderstood my presence in Cole’s life, she could have simply asked him. She could have spoken to me in private. Instead, she chose to physically assault me on national television. A cold anger settled over me. I looked at her with dead, chilling eyes. “You are deeply mistaken. There is nothing inappropriate between Cole and me.” “Furthermore… does Cole even know you are pulling this stunt today?” The air in the studio went dead silent for a full minute. The host immediately muted his microphone and looked frantically at the executive producer standing behind the cameras. Everyone in Hollywood knew Cole was not just a massive box-office draw. The family behind him was the most powerful financial titan in the entertainment industry. Nobody dared to cross them. But seeing the live viewership numbers breaking network records, the director gritted his teeth and aggressively waved his hand, signaling the host to keep the cameras rolling. Kelly froze for a fraction of a second before launching herself at me like a rabid animal. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, screaming shrilly. “So what if he knows?! Do you really think my husband would turn his back on me for a cheap tramp like you?!” She pulled out her phone, aggressively pulling up a leaked video of Cole and me touring a massive luxury estate. She wept hysterically. “In this video, you literally admit that you are the lady of the house! Have you no shame?!” Buying a mansion? Right. That was the custom estate I was planning to give Kelly as a welcoming gift for joining our family. Before I could speak, she twisted her grip and violently threw me off the stage sofa. My body slammed hard onto the polished acrylic floor. The impact knocked the wind out of my lungs. My heart dropped into my stomach. I curled inward, my hands desperately clutching my lower abdomen where a sharp, terrifying pain began to bloom. I turned to the host, my voice tearing through the studio. “I need to stop the broadcast! I am pregnant!” 2 The word paralyzed the entire room. Kelly stared at me in absolute disbelief. “You actually got pregnant with his baby?!” “It was not enough to play the fake wife. Now you are trying to use a bastard child to force your way into his family?! You are utterly repulsive!” The moment the words left her mouth, a furious audience member hurled a heavy plastic water bottle straight at the stage. It smashed directly into my forehead. A wave of intense dizziness washed over me as the crowd began to roar. “Cancel her!” “Exactly! Why is a filthy homewrecker even allowed on television?! Get her out of here!” I curled into a tight ball on the floor, terrified to move a single muscle. This baby was a miracle. My husband, Victor, and I had gone through agonizing rounds of IVF to finally conceive. I could not let anything happen to this child. Cold sweat drenched my face. I gritted my teeth and tried to yell over the noise. “The baby is not Cole’s! Call an ambulance right now!” Kelly looked down at me with pure disgust. She let out a cruel laugh. “They say you are a veteran actress. I have to admit, this is quite a performance!” “Five minutes ago, you bragged about living with him. Now you claim the baby is not his? What, do you have a whole rotation of men you sleep with?!” The live viewership was skyrocketing. The show had just hit the number one trending spot worldwide. That was fine. Victor’s investment firm owned a massive stake in this production company. He would see this. He would be here to save me. I forced myself to look up, glaring at Kelly through the pain. “As far as I know, you and Cole do not even have a marriage license yet. What gives you the right to stand there and lecture me?” My question finally caused a ripple in the live chat. [Wait, she has a point. Even if it is a secret marriage, Kelly is causing a massive scene. Shouldn’t Cole’s PR team be issuing a statement by now?] [The show has been live for an hour. Total silence from Cole’s camp. This is getting weird.] Seeing the comments questioning her authority, Kelly’s face turned beet red. She lifted her chin defensively. “My husband hasn’t responded because he is busy on set!” Ignoring her frantic manager signaling her to stop, she shoved her phone right into the main camera lens, swiping through intimate, highly inappropriate photos of her and Cole. She screamed at the lens. “You want proof?! I have plenty! Open your blind eyes and look!” The photos were incredibly explicit. She was completely destroying Cole’s carefully crafted public image. She crouched down next to me, violently grabbing my jaw. She shoved her left hand in my face, flashing a massive diamond ring. “Do you see this? This is the custom engagement ring my husband gave me! It is one of a kind!” Seeing Kelly dominate the narrative, the host fully took her side. He looked at me like I was a piece of trash. He pretended to step in to mediate, but his words were pure poison. “Bianca, when you first debuted, there were rumors that you were funded by a married billionaire. Would you like to clear the air about that today?” The studio audience went absolutely feral. They started throwing whatever they could find onto the stage. “The host just called her out! It has to be true!” “Get Bianca out of Hollywood! She is disgusting! Blacklist her forever!” I lay helplessly on the cold floor, looking up at Kelly’s victorious, twisted smile. Suddenly, a terrifying warmth spread across my thighs. Total panic seized my chest. I screamed with everything I had left. “I am telling you for the last time! Call an ambulance!” The host ignored my plea. He offered a condescending smirk. “We are on a live broadcast. If you just run away, who is going to take responsibility for the dead air?” “Do you have any idea how much the breach of contract penalty is for this network?” With the host backing her up, Kelly’s arrogance reached its peak. “There are plenty of women in Hollywood trying to make a quick buck. But women like you, who specialize in destroying other women’s lives, are the lowest of the low.” “I have waited a long time for this day. I want the whole world to see exactly what kind of monster you are!” My chest felt incredibly tight. I could barely breathe. I glared past the lights, locking eyes with the director in the shadows. I forced the words through my teeth. “If I lose the baby in my stomach, I promise you, this entire network will burn to the ground.” The director’s face drained of color. He did not dare take that gamble. He hesitated, then spoke into his headset, his voice echoing through the studio monitors. “Let us do this. It takes time for paramedics to arrive. Why don’t we get Cole on a live phone call right now? Let the audience hear the truth from him directly.” Kelly’s eyes lit up with malicious glee. “Perfect! My husband hates seeing me upset!” “I want Bianca to hear exactly what it sounds like when a man throws her away!”

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1 I’ll never forget that absurd night. I was young, naive, and buzzing with a restless energy back then. My boss, Alan Treadwell, had been drugged at a company event, his mind a haze. As his assistant, I made a terrible mistake, and we ended up… together. Afterward, I was terrified. I snuck away, thinking no one would ever know. Alan went ballistic, tearing the company apart trying to find the culprit, but he never traced it back to me. I secretly congratulated myself for hiding so well. Days turned into weeks, and I slowly pushed the whole incident out of my mind. But then, just a few months later, my body started to change. My belly began to swell. … “Still no sign of them, Morgan?” Alan Treadwell leaned back in his office chair, crossing one leg over the other, his face a thundercloud. I nervously reported, “Mr. Treadwell, still no leads. The person was highly cautious, avoiding all surveillance.” Alan pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette. “I’m giving you three more days. If you still haven’t found them, don’t bother showing up for work.” I nodded frantically. “Understood, Mr. Treadwell.” As I turned to leave, I bravely asked, “Mr. Treadwell, if you find them, what do you plan to do?” He flicked his ash, narrowing his eyes. “Dare to climb into my bed, and I’ll make sure they vanish without a trace.” I swallowed hard. Walking out of his office, a chill ran down my spine. Back at my desk, I found a cushion for my chair. Slowly, carefully, I sat down, then reached up to rub my aching lower back. Damn it! Oh, how I regretted it. How could I have fallen for Alan’s charm? Why didn’t I push his hand away when it brushed my waist? A night of pleasure, a lifetime of trouble. Two nights ago, I’d accompanied Alan to a corporate mixer. It was a chaotic affair, and somehow, he ended up ingesting something illicit. As I helped him back to his suite, the drug started to kick in. I was reaching for my phone to call for help when I felt a warm hand on my waist. “Morgan, you always look good in a suit.” “Your waist… it’s so slender.” “And your backside… very nice.” Alan was burning up. In a few quick movements, he shed his suit jacket. Beneath his white shirt, muscles rippled, threatening to burst through the fabric. Such beauty, it was hard to resist. I didn’t run. In a daze, I found myself tangled with Alan. We burned through half the night like wildfire. It wasn’t until every inch of my body ached that I fully sobered up. Damn it! What had I done? While Alan was still deep in sleep, I hastily dressed and fled the scene. 2 By morning, Alan had called an emergency meeting. He furiously demanded that the person who’d been in his bed be found. I tentatively asked, “Mr. Treadwell, was it a man or a woman?” Alan snapped, “A woman.” A few seconds later, he corrected himself, “It was a man.” The surveillance manager’s face went ashen, and he shot me a helpless look. Internally, I was thanking my lucky stars. Alan not only didn’t know it was me, but he also hadn’t discovered my secret of being intersex. I cautiously asked, “Mr. Treadwell, can we confirm the gender? It would make the search easier.” Alan scowled. “Man or woman, I want them found.” That same afternoon, the person who’d drugged him was found. It was an old rival of Alan’s. Alan ground the man’s hand under his heel, eliciting a guttural scream. I sat there on pins and needles, silently praying: Please, don’t let Alan ever find out it was me that night. Now, Alan had given me only three days. If I failed again, I was out of a job. Between a mysterious, gruesome death and losing my job, I’d obviously choose the latter. These past few days, the entire executive office had been shrouded in a dark cloud. Alan was in a foul mood, lashing out at anyone for the slightest misstep. Colleagues walked on eggshells. I began preparing my work handover. When the three days were up, I submitted my resignation to Alan. “Mr. Treadwell, I apologize. I failed to complete the task you assigned.” He took the resignation letter, pondered for a moment, then finally tore it up, annoyance etched on his face. “Forget it.” “They were too cunning. You’ve worked hard these past few days. Take two days off.” Holy cow! Not only did I keep my job, but I also got two days off. A silver lining indeed! My smile was practically splitting my face. “Thank you, Mr. Treadwell!” Alan’s gaze lingered on me for a long moment, his eyes complex. “Morgan, was it really not you who brought me back to my room that night? I remember…” He trailed off mid-sentence. I quickly replied, “No, it really wasn’t me. I had too much to drink that night too. It was hotel staff who helped you back. You probably just dreamed of me, Mr. Treadwell.” I added playfully, “How honored I am to appear in your dreams.” Alan’s expression immediately turned peculiar. He cleared his throat and waved his hand. “Alright, you’re dismissed.” 3 Two months passed uneventfully. Until, that is, I once again found myself excusing myself to the restroom to throw up during a meeting with Alan. Alan finished signing, handed me the documents, and in a rare moment of concern, said, “If you’re not feeling well, go to the doctor. Don’t push yourself.” “You don’t need to come in this afternoon.” I took my paid leave and went to the hospital for a check-up. I’d been experiencing persistent nausea and loss of appetite, so I figured it was a stomach issue. To my utter shock, the doctor delivered news that made my jaw drop. “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” Damn it! One shot, and I hit the jackpot? Should I be praising Alan or myself? I walked out of the doctor’s office, my steps unsteady. Abortion? I hesitated. Because of my unique biological makeup, I was an abandoned child. I grew up in an orphanage and received sponsorship throughout my education. Since starting work, I’d accumulated some savings. Many times, I’d considered having a child of my own. I’d even consulted a sperm bank. But I never acted on it. Now, by a twist of fate… Alan was handsome, rich, brilliant, and highly educated. You probably couldn’t find his kind even in a sperm bank. I didn’t hesitate much before deciding to keep the baby. I immediately thought about resigning. The secret of that night would eventually come out. For instance, Alan’s gaze had grown increasingly strange lately. He kept asking me odd questions. “Morgan, do you have a mole on your lower back?” I quickly denied it. If he found out I was pregnant, he’d eventually connect the dots. In his office, Alan frowned, looking at my resignation letter. “Too busy lately?” “Perhaps I should hire another assistant, and give you a raise while I’m at it.” Holy hell! So tempting. Typical capitalist, only offering these things when I’m trying to quit? I tearfully declined. “Mr. Treadwell, you’re great, but I want a change of pace.” Alan hesitated for a long time before signing the resignation letter. He handed it back to me, his gaze sincere: “Treadwell Enterprises will always welcome you back.” 4 Opening the door after work, a little bundle of joy, a tiny human, launched itself at me. His voice, soft and sweet, chimed, “Daddy!” “I haven’t seen you in nine hours, and I missed you so, so much.” I quickly knelt, catching him in my arms, and peppered his chubby cheeks with kisses. “Daddy missed you too, Finn.” Four years after resigning, I moved to a different city. I found a new job. Here, I rented an apartment and hired a nanny to look after Finn Morgan. Life was peaceful and happy. “Daddy, today Ms. Wendy took me out to play, and Lily and Rose fought over who got to hold my hand.” I chuckled, listening to him. Gazing at my son’s adorable, handsome face, I couldn’t help but marvel at the power of genetics. His looks were undeniable; he could easily be a child model. And in other ways, he perfectly inherited the best of both Alan and me. His intelligence had been astounding since he was small. He walked and talked earlier than other kids his age. Now, at only three, he already recognized many letters and numbers. Basic math was a breeze, and he was even learning English from TV. Just as I was swelling with pride, Finn suddenly blurted out, “Daddy, I need to check the cards!” “Shine my shoes!” My eyes rolled back, and a headache bloomed. This kid, he just couldn’t handle a compliment. “Who taught you that?” Finn blinked. “Jake and the others were all saying it.” No sooner had he spoken than he gave me the middle finger. “Daddy, this is a gesture I learned today. What does it mean?” I pulled him onto my lap, my voice serious. “Finn, you can’t make that gesture anymore. It means disrespect.” Finn nestled into my arms and nodded. “Daddy, I know. Don’t be mad.” I said gently, “Daddy’s not mad.” A child’s environment is crucial. I’d rented this place because it was close to work and affordable. Now, Finn was nearing school age. I planned to buy a house in a better neighborhood. The next morning, I awoke to Finn’s little foot, draped over me, burning hot. My heart clenched as I quickly felt his forehead. A high fever. I rushed him to the emergency room for IV fluids. Afterward, Finn’s spirits lifted considerably. When we left the hospital, he walked on his own, holding my hand, no longer needing to be carried. “Watch out, don’t bump into anyone.” No sooner had I spoken than Finn collided with someone’s leg. I was about to apologize when I recognized the person. It was Alan Treadwell. He wore a long trench coat, and the familiar scent of his old cologne wafted from him. What was this? Four years later, he seemed even more handsome. 5 Finn looked up, politely saying, “Excuse me, sir.” Alan looked at me, then at Finn. “Morgan, long time no see.” He glanced at Finn, a question in his eyes. “Is this yours?” I smiled. “Mr. Treadwell, this is my son. He had a fever this morning, so I brought him to the hospital for an IV.” Alan’s brows furrowed, an incredulous expression on his face. “You’re married?” I awkwardly nodded. I was about to ask him why he was at the hospital when a little girl came up behind him. “I told you to slow down!” The girl, held by a woman who seemed to be her nanny, curiously looked at Finn and me. Alan knelt, scooping up the little girl. “Not everyone has short legs like you, you know.” The girl pouted, sticking her tongue out at him. Alan chuckled, dotingly smoothing her hair. He then introduced her to me. “This is my little niece. I brought her for a follow-up.” The girl smiled at me, revealing two adorable dimples. “Hello, sir.” Alan and I didn’t chat for long before parting ways. Remembering the gentle, doting expression on his face when he spoke to the little girl, I realized it was the first time I’d ever seen that side of him. He’d probably be even softer with his own child someday. I pushed away the strange feeling stirring inside me and led Finn to the parking lot. Finn, in the back seat, craned his neck to ask, “Daddy, was that man your friend? I’ve never seen him before.” “He was my old boss.” Finn nodded. “Oh. He’s really handsome.” I laughed. “Well, who’s more handsome, Daddy or him?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he declared loudly, “Daddy! Daddy’s the most handsome in the whole world!” I couldn’t stop smiling. My chance encounter with Alan at the hospital didn’t give me any sense of alarm. After all, four years had passed. Alan surely wasn’t pursuing the matter anymore. A man couldn’t get pregnant, so he’d never suspect Finn was his. 6 I took two days off to care for Finn. When I returned to the office, a colleague sidled up to me, whispering that things had changed. The company had been acquired. A new CEO from headquarters would be coming in to temporarily manage the company. I didn’t feel much about it; there had been rumors of this for a while. As long as my salary didn’t decrease, I was fine. Then, I saw Alan Treadwell walk into the conference room, impeccably dressed in a suit. Damn it! Now I felt something. What kind of bizarre cosmic connection was this? Alan’s meeting was as concise and efficient as ever. But when his gaze swept over me, a clear flash of surprise appeared in his eyes. After the meeting, his assistant, Lin – my former colleague – called me into the CEO’s office. Alan looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Morgan, what a coincidence. We’re working together again.” I replied, “Mr. Treadwell, what incredible serendipity. I can’t believe I’m still working at Treadwell Enterprises after all this time.” Alan said, “In that case, you can be my executive assistant again. You’re already familiar with the business here.” I remained silent. Alan raised an eyebrow. “Not willing?” Of course, I wasn’t. The more I interacted with him, the greater the risk of my secret being exposed. He added, “I’ll give you a raise.” “I’m in!” Alan let out an exasperated chuckle. After I left his office, Lin excitedly told me, “Oh my gosh, Morgan, I can’t believe we’re reunited!” She whispered a complaint, “Ever since you left, Mr. Treadwell has been so moody, always getting inexplicably angry. He’s called me ‘Morgan, assistant’ so many times!” “This is great! You’re his assistant again. I finally won’t have to walk on eggshells.” I forced a dry laugh. It seemed I’d been such a dedicated worker that my boss couldn’t forget me. A new CEO meant a celebratory dinner. During the meal, I stepped outside to take a video call from Finn. “Daddy, when are you coming home? I want you to tuck me in.” I promised him, “Daddy will definitely be home before you go to sleep.” Finn’s gaze suddenly shifted behind me, and he excitedly exclaimed, “Wow, it’s the handsome man from the hospital!” I turned to see Alan Treadwell standing behind me. I hadn’t noticed him approach. He offered Finn a gentle smile. “Hello, little one.” Alan’s voice was warm and deep. The words “little one” were soft and low. I saw Finn in the video blush, uncharacteristically shy, and hide behind the sofa cushion. Tsk, such a little heartthrob.

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When I opened my eyes, I found myself back on the day my adopted sister bought her first Hermès bag. My sister Kiki had somehow bound herself to a parasitic wealth-transfer glitch—every penny she spent online was automatically taken from our mother’s retirement account. In my past life, she used this to build a lavish lifestyle and became a famous influencer, while I, left managing Mom’s finances, fell into crippling debt. When I showed my family the truth, they accused me of jealousy and theft, choosing to believe Kiki’s story that a secret billionaire was funding her luxury. In the end, she lived in fame and fortune, while I was doxxed, canceled, and finally pushed in front of a subway train by her enraged fans. Now, back at that moment in the boutique, I pushed past her and laid our mother’s debit card on the counter before she could speak. “I’ll take this bag,” I said calmly, a cold smile touching my lips. This time, I would rewrite everything. 1 It was that time of the month again to reconcile Mom’s retirement account. Staring at the $15,000 monthly expense on the screen, I fell completely silent. Even though I had been reborn, the automatic deduction glitch still existed. Six months. For six entire months, massive amounts of cash had been bleeding out of Mom’s savings. The safety net she had worked her entire life to build was evaporating into thin air. With trembling fingers, I tapped into the current month’s transaction history. Aside from a few minor pharmacy and grocery runs, there were three massive, unexplained charges. The recipient for all of them was just a string of scrambled alphanumeric code. I took screenshots and sent them to the bank’s online fraud department, stating clearly that these purchases were unauthorized. The automated response came back instantly. [These are pre-authorized automated deductions. No anomalies detected.] I immediately switched apps and opened Instagram. Kiki had just posted a new story. Her grid was an endless parade of diamonds, champagne, and high-end aesthetics. I scrolled meticulously through every single post, searching for the breadcrumbs. Finally, I found it. On July 15th, she posted a close-up of a sparkling sapphire necklace with the caption. [Thanks to my perfect guy for the birthday surprise! I deserve the absolute best!] I did not care about the clarity of the stones. I only cared that the retail price of that specific piece was exactly $5,800. And on that exact day, Mom’s account had a mysterious deduction of $5,800. It wasn’t a coincidence. On July 10th, she posted a mirror selfie showing off the newest custom smartphone, retailing at $2,500. That matched the exact missing amount on the 10th. I took screenshot after screenshot, building my arsenal of receipts. Almost every single massive deduction perfectly aligned with her latest luxury flex online. “Harper! Get out here and eat! Do we really have to beg you to join the family every single night?!” My dad’s booming voice snapped me out of my trance. I dragged my feet into the dining room. Mom was busy placing the best cut of roast beef directly onto Kiki’s plate, her face glowing with unapologetic favoritism. “Eat up, sweetie. You are looking so thin lately.” Kiki was practically radiating smugness today. She twirled her wrist, letting the dining room lights catch the heavy, solid gold Cartier bracelet she was wearing. “Look, Mom! Do you like my new bracelet? It is custom heavy gold!” “Did your… your special guy get that for you?” Mom took the bait instantly, putting down her fork to admire the jewelry. “Yeah! It was almost five grand!” Kiki nodded enthusiastically, a perfectly rehearsed blush creeping up her cheeks. “He told me that ever since he met me, his investments have skyrocketed. He says spoiling his princess is his good luck charm, so he is going to keep buying me nice things.” I let out a harsh, dry laugh. That wasn’t some billionaire spoiling his princess. That was a parasite sucking her mother dry. Mom’s eyes crinkled with pure joy. She reached out and pinched Kiki’s cheek affectionately. “Oh, my precious girl! You are so blessed! A man like that is one in a million. You hold onto him tight!” She spoke as if Kiki had just won the absolute lottery. Suddenly, as if remembering something, I pulled out my phone and checked the banking app. Sure enough, exactly one minute ago, Mom’s account had been drained of $4,800. I slammed my phone face-up on the dining table. “Kiki, did your imaginary billionaire buy that bracelet, or did you just swipe Mom’s card?” She froze for a split second, but her eyes immediately welled up with practiced tears. “Dad! Mom! Look at Harper! She is so jealous that I have a rich guy chasing me, she is trying to blame her own theft on me! She is the one stealing your retirement money!” “Harper!” My dad erupted. He grabbed my phone off the table and hurled it violently onto the hardwood floor. “You vicious little snake! You scheme to drain your own mother’s life savings, and now you want to drag your sister’s reputation through the mud?! What is wrong with you?!” After a relentless screaming match, my parents locked me inside my bedroom. This could not go on. Mom’s retirement fund was not a bottomless pit. Kiki was going to bleed us entirely dry. Before the sun even fully rose the next morning, I climbed out my ground-floor window and marched straight to the bank. “Hi, I need to report a debit card as lost and freeze the account.” After filling out the paperwork, I casually walked back home, even stopping to buy myself an iced coffee. The moment I stepped through the front door, I was met with the sound of Kiki bawling her eyes out in Mom’s arms. “Mom! It is ruined! The black card my guy gave me is suddenly declining! I know Harper did this!” “She accused me yesterday, and today my card is locked! Mom, you have to do something!” Mom’s face morphed into a scowl the second she saw me. She pulled Kiki tighter against her chest, rubbing her back soothingly. “Shh, sweetie, don’t cry.” She shot daggers at me. “Harper, is this your doing?! Can you really not stand seeing your sister happy?!” “She is just an adopted child who finally found a good man who can take care of her. Instead of being happy for her, you are actively trying to sabotage her relationship?!” Mom demanded I hand over her physical retirement card so she could give it to Kiki as a temporary fix. My dad sat in the armchair, his face dark as thunder, looking like he wanted to rip my head off. But Kiki… she lifted her face from Mom’s shoulder, and right where our parents could not see, she flashed me a sickening, victorious smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing. She definitely knew I had frozen the card, which stopped her glitch from pulling the funds! I muttered some excuse about calling the bank to sort it out and stepped outside to undo the freeze. Minutes later, Kiki gleefully announced her “guy’s card” was miraculously working again and she was going shopping. I set my jaw and followed her right out the door. The moment we walked into the Hermès boutique, she made a beeline for the display and pointed at a pristine Picotin bucket bag. “Could you bring this out for me to tr—” “I will take the bag!” I lunged in front of her, slapping my own debit card onto the polished glass counter. Kiki’s jaw dropped. She glared at me. “Harper! What is your problem? You are trying to outbid me? With what money, you broke loser?” “Whether I have the money or not is between me and the card reader, isn’t it?” I did not even look at her, keeping my eyes locked on the sales associate. “Ring it up. Run the card. Right now.” “Fine! You have some nerve, Harper. You are going to regret this!” Kiki stomped her designer heels and stormed out of the boutique. I aggressively signed the receipt, snapped a picture of the bag, and immediately posted it to my Instagram story. Then, I glued my eyes to the banking app on my phone. It wasn’t going to deduct from Mom’s account, right? I refreshed the screen over and over. Finally, the notification popped up. [Hermès Boutique Purchase: $9,500.] How could this be? I stood in the middle of the store, completely paralyzed. The wildly expensive leather bag in my hands suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. The system only worked one way! As long as Kiki made the purchase and posted a photo flexing it online, the glitch would drain the exact amount from Mom’s account to cover her tracks! 2 I stumbled home and collapsed onto my mattress. Opening TikTok, I saw Kiki had just launched a brand new public account. Her very first video was live. In the frame, she was wearing a cute tweed matching set, leaning against the hood of a brand new, gleaming white Porsche. She smiled coyly at the camera. “Ugh, taking the subway to work was getting so exhausting. Thank God my amazing guy surprised me with this little runaround car today.” “He told me his princess deserves nothing but the best!” The video had barely been up for ten minutes, but the comment section was already exploding. [A Porsche just for running errands?! What kind of fairy tale romance is this?!] [Is your man a walking ATM?! I am so jealous!] Kiki’s follower count was climbing like a rocket, smashing past fifty thousand in minutes. My hands shook uncontrollably as I opened the banking app. The newest transaction: $30,000. It had cleared exactly one minute after she posted the video. I kicked Kiki’s bedroom door open and tore through her desk drawers until I found a sleek leather folder. Inside was the vehicle purchase agreement. The down payment was exactly thirty thousand dollars. The signature on the dotted line belonged to Kiki, and it was dated today. I sprinted into the living room. “Dad, look at this!” I slammed the stack of contracts onto the coffee table right in front of him. “Kiki’s new car wasn’t a gift from some billionaire!” “That thirty grand down payment was siphoned directly out of Mom’s retirement fund! This is the hard proof!” My dad casually picked up the contract, his eyes scanning the ink. A second later, he ripped the papers straight down the middle. “Harper, are you mentally ill? You are even jealous of a car her boyfriend bought her?” “You are her older sister! How could you forge this kind of disgusting lie just to tear her down? I do not know how I raised such a toxic, bitter child!” That night, Kiki went live on TikTok. She looked absolutely heartbroken on camera. “Hey guys… I am just having a really rough night. My sister… sigh.” “I think she just resents that I am doing well. She is telling everyone my boyfriend doesn’t even exist.” Kiki paused, her timing absolutely impeccable. She reached off-camera and pulled a velvet box into the frame, popping it open. Inside sat a breathtaking Patek Philippe watch. “My guy gave this to me today. He said it holds its value perfectly, and I can keep it as part of my future dowry.” “He treats me so incredibly well… I just don’t understand why my sister refuses to believe me…” Under Kiki’s subtle manipulation, the internet quickly painted me as the ultimate evil, jealous older sibling. The next morning, the second I opened the front door to leave for work, a bucket of blood-red paint splashed across my chest. “Harper! You bloodsucking leech!” Before I could even process what happened, rotting vegetables and sharp pebbles rained down on me from the sidewalk. “Get out of our neighborhood! You are a stain on this community!” “You heartless psycho!” The furious screams of my neighbors drowned out my own heartbeat. Faces I had known for years—people who used to be kind and normal—were now twisted into masks of vicious, self-righteous rage. I threw my arms up, desperately dodging the garbage, running for my life down the street. What could I do? What options did I even have left? I blindly stumbled into a public park restroom, locking myself in a stall, too terrified to breathe. I didn’t dare step outside until the sun went down. I snuck back into the house like a criminal. But the living room was lit up like a Christmas tree. Aunt Susan, Uncle Robert, and a handful of other relatives were crammed onto the sofas. The coffee table was littered with sunflower seed shells and fruit peels. Mom was sitting right next to Kiki, lovingly peeling an orange and feeding her the slices. Kiki was dressed in a brand new Chanel skirt suit, dangling a pair of crystal-encrusted stilettos from her toes, soaking up the attention like royalty. “Oh, you are finally back?” Kiki dramatically pinched her nose, shrinking away and burying her face in Mom’s shoulder. “Ugh, Harper, what is that smell?! Go take a shower, you are stinking up the whole house.” The relatives, clearly fully briefed on the narrative, immediately started lecturing me. “Harper, I am just going to be honest with you. As the older sister, you need to be more open-minded.” “Your jealousy is completely out of control. Kiki is successful and found a wealthy man to take care of her. Shouldn’t we be celebrating that?” I had spent the entire day hiding in a filthy public bathroom, and now I had to sit through a family tribunal? Something inside me snapped. I walked into my room, grabbed the thick folder of financial evidence I had compiled, and slammed it down in the middle of the coffee table. “Every single luxury item Kiki has bought over the last few months matches an exact withdrawal from Mom’s retirement account! The proof is right here!” Dead silence. Aunt Susan and Uncle Robert darted their eyes nervously between me and Kiki. The smile froze on Mom’s face. Kiki shot up off the couch like a rocket, shoving her phone screen directly into my face. “How can you keep slandering me like this?! Look! All of these are wire transfers directly from my boyfriend!” On her screen were incredibly convincing, flawlessly forged bank transfer receipts. “Those are fake! You photoshopped them!” I lunged forward to grab the phone. “Enough!” My dad roared, standing up so fast his chair tipped over. He pointed a thick finger right between my eyes. “Harper, can you not stand to see this family have a single moment of peace?! Are you absolutely determined to destroy your sister’s reputation and tear this family apart?!” The relatives’ expressions instantly shifted. They looked at me like I was a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of their shoes. Mom gasped for air, clutching her chest before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed limply onto the sofa. Total chaos erupted. People were screaming, searching for her blood pressure pills, fanning her face. I stood frozen in the center of the room, painted as the ultimate villain. Kiki played the devoted daughter, staying by Mom’s bedside for days until she finally recovered. During that week, no new deductions hit the bank account. But I noticed Kiki kept hovering around my bedroom door, looking for excuses to peek inside. She suspected something. Did I have a blind spot? Was there a secret hiding in my own room? When the house was finally empty, I turned my room upside down. My bedroom used to be an old storage closet. It was still filled with boxes of my grandfather’s dusty antiques and obscure occult journals. I flipped through the rotting pages one by one, and incredibly, I struck gold. I finally understood exactly how to destroy Kiki’s parasitic wealth system!

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When I was three, scavenging for food, I was bullied until a couple rescued me. Back then, I still didn’t know that the blonde woman was the head of the New York Mafia, and the tattooed man was the leader of all the Motorcycle Clubs in America. The blonde woman taught me to shoot, and the tattooed man taught me how to race. For eighteen years, they protected me fiercely. Then my biological parents tracked me down. That’s when I found out I was the true heir to the Sterlings, a family worth hundreds of millions. But the day I was supposed to move in with them, Tiffany, the fake daughter, blocked my way. She looked down at me, a cold sneer on her face, and told me to crawl through the pet door like a stray to get inside. I stood my ground. Brandon Sterling, the eldest brother, scowled and snapped: “It’s just a pet door! Don’t be ungrateful, Jade! Tiffany letting you come home at all is a huge favor.” Caleb Sterling, my younger brother, scoffed, his face full of disdain: “A stray like you dares to upset Tiffany? Get lost!” I turned to my biological parents. They just said: “Tiffany gets emotional. She’s upset you’re back, so just humor her.” Looking at their aggressive stares, I calmly pulled out my phone and messaged my adoptive parents: “Mom and Dad, the Sterlings are bullying me. Come get your revenge, fast!”

The second I sent the message, Caleb lunged forward and snatched my phone. The screen was open to the “Jax and Sera’s One and Only Baby” family SnapChat group. Two messages popped up instantly: Mommy: Baby, don’t be scared! I’m flooring it. Your dad and I are coming for them! Daddy: Who the hell dares lay a hand on my girl? The Sterlings, huh? I’ll make sure they’re bankrupt by sundown! He looked at the two jumping Jersey Shore-style avatars, scoffed aloud, and mockingly repeated the ridiculously arrogant messages for my biological parents to hear. Tiffany Sterling, the fake daughter, burst out laughing so hard she couldn’t stand straight. Wiping away tears of mirth, she sneered: “I’m dying! Jade, your two street thug parents think they can go up against the Sterlings?” I blinked. Didn’t they bother to do their homework before claiming me? My adoptive parents’ style might be a little gaudy, and their manners unconventional, but they’re definitely not thugs! Mrs. Sterling’s face completely darkened. Her gaze held nothing but undisguised disgust. She stepped forward, her voice sharp, leaving no room for argument: “How can a Sterling be associated with thugs? It’d be a scandal! We’d be a laughingstock, completely ruining the Sterling family’s reputation!” “Jade, now that you’re back with the Sterlings, you must cut all ties with those unsavory characters!” With that, she gave Caleb a look, signaling him to hand the phone back to me. “Delete all your adoptive parents’ contacts right now. Sever all contact! This is your first test to rejoin the Sterling family.” I swallowed my anger, ready to grab my phone and leave. But just as my fingers brushed the device, Tiffany snatched it away. She pouted and complained to Mrs. Sterling: “Mom, look at Jade! She’s got that cold look on her face. She clearly doesn’t want to delete them. She doesn’t respect you at all.” “Since she won’t do it, I, as her older sister, will kindly help her! We don’t want these low-lives bothering the Sterlings later!” This family was so infuriating, I almost laughed. “The wealthy Sterling family”? In my eyes, they were nothing. This “true heir” nonsense? Whoever wants it can have it. I, Jade Walker, don’t care for it!

I held out my hand to Tiffany, my voice cold: “Give me back my phone!” But Tiffany ducked behind Brandon, stuck out her tongue at me, and rapidly tapped the phone screen. She exited the family group, deleted the contacts, all before I could even react. Once she was done, she showed me the empty contact list, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “I don’t care about the phone. Just give me back the charm!” Attached to my phone case was a faded, worn-out little bear charm. My adoptive parents bought it for me from a street vendor when I was three, after some kids threw rocks at me while I was scavenging and made me cry. It was the first gift I had ever received. For eighteen years, I had kept it with me, treasuring it like gold. Tiffany’s gaze fell on the tattered little bear, and a flicker of malice crossed her eyes. She slammed the phone on the ground and stomped on it. “Ugh, you call this piece of trash a treasure? It’s probably crawling with germs. It should have been thrown in the trash a long time ago.” “The Sterlings don’t tolerate such dirty things. I’m just helping you declutter!” With that, she ground her high heel into it several times. The once-chubby little bear was instantly crushed, its cotton stuffing spilling out. My face went pale. I quickly bent down to pick it up. But just as my fingers touched the charm, Tiffany’s heel came down hard on my hand. Excruciating pain shot from my fingertips through my entire body. I bit down hard, yanking my hand back. My knuckles were already bruised and swollen, a sickening sight. The next second, Tiffany shrieked and dramatically collapsed to the ground. Her eyes welled up with tears instantly. She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, sobbing plaintively: “Mom, Dad, I was just trying to help Jade get rid of some dirty things, but she deliberately pushed me… Is it because I’m the fake daughter that I deserve to be bullied like this…?” Caleb immediately shielded Tiffany, glaring at me with utter disgust: “I only recognize Tiffany as my sister. A malicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to be my sister!” “I’m warning you, don’t cause a scene here, or you’ll never set foot in the Sterling family home again.” Brandon’s face instantly turned furious. Without a word, he roughly shoved me away. The force was immense. I stumbled back several steps, my lower back hitting the edge of a flower bed with a painful thud. The pain was so intense I couldn’t straighten up. He glared down at me, his voice icy: “Get down on your knees and apologize to Tiffany right now! We raised her with love. No one has ever dared to upset her. How dare you, a wild girl we just met, hurt her?” Only then did Mr. Sterling, who had been observing coldly, finally speak, and his words immediately condemned me. “Jade, since you pushed Tiffany, you should apologize to her.” Mrs. Sterling sharply chimed in: “The Sterling family values respect and rules. When you make a mistake, you must kneel and apologize sincerely!” They acted as if they were blind, completely ignoring my injured hand. Or rather, they simply didn’t care about me. My hand still throbbed faintly, but my heart felt strangely calm, even a little mocking. Just wait. When my parents show up, They’ll be the ones on their knees, crying and begging.

“I won’t apologize, and I won’t kneel.” I straightened my back, clenched my fists, my eyes as cold as ice, showing no sign of submission. My defiance completely enraged the Sterlings. “Fine! Fine, then!” Brandon gritted his teeth in anger. He snatched my phone from the ground, grabbed my suitcase from beside me, and strode towards the pool. “Since you insist on getting tangled up with those thugs and refusing to change, I’ll put an end to all your hopes today!” “No!” I raced towards him like a madwoman, but it was too late. My suitcase and phone plunged heavily into the pool, splashing water everywhere, and instantly sank. Without hesitation, I dove into the pool. The icy water enveloped me. I frantically searched, swimming three laps back and forth, until I finally retrieved the tattered little bear. When I stumbled out of the pool, I was drenched, my clothes clinging to me, my lips purple with cold, shivering uncontrollably. Tiffany stood there, arms crossed, looking down at me with arrogant disdain. Suddenly, her gaze fell on a faint red mark on my neck. As if she’d found a major piece of evidence, she immediately shouted: “Jade, is that a hickey on your neck?!” She feigned surprise, covering her mouth, her voice laced with malicious speculation: “Oh my god, did you have sex with a thug already?!” “Or… did you catch some dirty disease? After all, the circles you ran in were so messed up, who knows what kind of nasty stuff you might have picked up…” At that, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling’s faces instantly changed. Mrs. Sterling recoiled half a step, her face twisted in disgust: “Your adoptive mother, with her weird outfits, always hanging around on the streets with those thugs. She clearly has a questionable private life. What kind of child could she raise?” “Jade, tell us honestly, have you been fooling around outside?” Mr. Sterling frowned, his voice sharp: “Absolutely not! We need to take her to the hospital for a check-up, see if she’s ‘clean’!” Brandon and Caleb stepped forward, grabbing my arms, one on each side, with such force I thought my bones would shatter. No matter how much I struggled, they roughly shoved me into the car. “Don’t be difficult. You’re getting this check-up whether you like it or not!” The car sped off, heading straight for the hospital. As soon as we entered the clinic, Mrs. Sterling grabbed Dr. Miller’s hand and loudly declared, her voice so piercing people in the next department could hear: “Doctor, is that a hickey on her neck, or some dirty disease? My daughter lived with thugs for over ten years, please, you have to give her a thorough check-up!” Her words made everyone around us turn their heads. Those stares – disdainful, scrutinizing, disgusted – felt like a thousand needles pricking my skin. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The results came back quickly. Dr. Miller held the report, looking at Mr. and Mrs. Sterling with a serious expression: “The results are completely normal. She has no infectious diseases. And this young woman is chaste; she has no sexual history. The red mark on her neck is just a common allergy. As parents, how could you so unfairly slander your child’s reputation? If word gets out, it could ruin her life.” The clinic fell into a sudden, stunned silence. But there was no trace of guilt on the Sterlings’ faces. Mrs. Sterling, instead, frowned and chastised me: “If you were ‘clean,’ why didn’t you say so sooner? You wasted our time and made us look foolish in front of Dr. Miller!” I forced a smile, looking into her eyes, and asked the question burning in my heart: “You don’t love me at all, so why did you go to such lengths to find me?”

Mrs. Sterling’s face froze. She looked away awkwardly, not answering. Mr. Sterling was silent for a moment, then finally spoke. But every word was a dagger twisting in my gut. “Since you asked, I’ll tell you the truth. Ten years ago, we discovered Tiffany wasn’t our biological daughter. But we’d raised her for so many years, we’d already accepted her. We even legally changed her name to Tiffany, ensuring she’d remain the Sterling family’s true daughter forever.” “But then, your mother was diagnosed with kidney failure and desperately needed a transplant. That’s why we had to find you. Your match was perfect.” “We gave you life. Your mother needs saving now, and it’s only natural for you to give her a kidney in return. It’s your responsibility, one you can’t escape.” His words cleared the fog, revealing the harsh truth. The supposed longing and guilt I saw at our first meeting were all fake. This reunion was a cold, calculated scheme from the very beginning. They had two biological sons, and Tiffany, whom they’d coddled for twenty-one years. But they couldn’t bear for any of those children to donate a kidney. So, they set their sights on me, their biological daughter for whom they felt no affection. They found me back, simply because I was the one they could sacrifice without hesitation. I looked up at them, my eyes filled with nothing but sarcasm: “You have two biological sons, don’t you? Their matches must be highly compatible too.” The faces of the five Sterlings instantly changed. Mr. Sterling immediately scowled, pointing at me and snapping angrily: “Nonsense! Your brother is the Sterling family heir, and your younger brother is still a child. How dare you even think of them?!” Mrs. Sterling whirled around, glaring at me with a savage fury, as if she wanted to tear me limb from limb: “They’re men! What if losing a kidney ruins their health for good?!” “Jade, how can you be so malicious at such a young age, wanting to harm your own brothers?!” Tiffany quickly stepped forward to support Mrs. Sterling, feigning understanding: “Mom, it’s just a shame I’m not your biological daughter, otherwise I’d gladly give my life to save you.” The Sterlings looked at me with even greater contempt. Brandon stepped forward, pulling an organ donation agreement from his jacket, and promised: “Jade, donating a kidney is your second test to join the Sterling family.” “As long as you sign this agreement, from now on, you’ll be a real Sterling.” “A ‘Sterling family member’?” I scoffed, my voice dripping with defiance. “I never wanted to be a Sterling in the first place!” “I’ll never donate that kidney!” With that, I turned to leave. “Stop!” I ignored the angry shouts behind me. But just as I pulled open the clinic door, two bodyguards blocked me. They roughly dragged me back, forcing my hand to sign the agreement. Then, I was bound hand and foot and dragged into the operating room. The doctor picked up a needle for anesthesia, but Tiffany immediately shrieked to stop him: “No anesthesia! She thinks she’s so tough? If she dares to cross the Sterlings, she deserves a lesson!” The doctor paused, looking uncomfortable, and instinctively glanced at Mrs. Sterling. “But… operating without anesthesia, she’ll die of pain!” Mrs. Sterling immediately sneered, her voice harsh: “If she dies of pain, it’s her own fault! She wasn’t obedient, so she’ll pay the price. We’ll take responsibility for anything that happens, just do it!” The gleaming scalpel slowly approached, about to pierce my skin. I stared desperately at the stark white ceiling, trembling uncontrollably. Just then, BANG—a deafening crash! The heavy operating room door exploded inward. A sleek, roaring motorcycle burst through the door, engine screaming, and skidded to a halt beside the operating table. My adoptive mother, Seraphina Rossi, ripped off her helmet, hurled it, and it precisely struck the scalpel from the doctor’s hand. My adoptive father, Jax Walker, kicked over the lead surgeon, his eyes bloodshot as he scanned the room, roaring: “Who the hell dares lay a hand on my daughter?!”

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My husband, Michael, was away on a business trip in France. On Thanksgiving Day, he asked me to go back to his hometown and spend the holiday with his parents. I took a red-eye flight back to Michael’s family home. The moment I walked through the door, my mother-in-law, Susan Baker, pointed at a table piled high with ingredients. “You’re making Thanksgiving dinner this year! Remember, just like last year, it has to be ten dishes!” I paused, “Don’t you have a nanny?” Susan frowned. “Tiffany works so hard taking care of us normally. Since you’re back, you should let her rest.” I countered, “Isn’t that her job? Besides, my job is also very demanding.” That sentence upset both my father-in-law and mother-in-law. My father-in-law, Robert Baker, slammed his hand on the table. “It’s Thanksgiving, but you don’t show an ounce of gratitude! It seems Tiffany is more suitable to be our daughter-in-law than you are!” I scoffed. Fine, if that’s how it is, I won’t invest a single cent in your company anymore! You can all go bankrupt.

On Thanksgiving Day, I bought a bunch of gifts to visit Robert and Susan. But when I arrived, I wasn’t met with a warm welcome. The nanny, Tiffany, was snuggled between them, her right arm intimately linked with Susan’s. The three of them were chatting and laughing, just like a family. Before I could even speak, Susan’s voice was heavy with dissatisfaction: “So you finally found time to come back and see us.” I explained, “Michael and I are both too busy with work.” Susan continued to complain, “If it wasn’t for you, my son wouldn’t have left us to work in New York.” I still managed a strained smile. “Once work isn’t so crazy next year, Michael and I will come back to visit you more often.” With that, I handed the gifts to Susan. Susan pursed her lips and said, “That’s more like it! But don’t think buying us a few gifts means you care about us.” After dinner, just as I was about to sit down and rest, trying to shake off the fatigue from my travels, Susan said, “This year’s Thanksgiving dinner, you’re making it. Remember, just like last year, it has to be ten dishes.” I froze, instinctively saying, “Isn’t that Tiffany’s job?” Susan immediately frowned, setting down her water glass, her face darkening. “Tiffany works so hard taking care of us, she’s exhausted all day long. Now that you’re back, can’t you let her rest?” “I’m exhausted from work too,” I looked at them, completely perplexed. “I work overtime every day, and I bought a 1 AM flight ticket just to be here with you for Thanksgiving. I barely have the energy to make 10 dishes right now.” “Besides, I pay her so much money to do these things, don’t I? It makes no sense for me to pay her and then do the work myself.” Tiffany stood nearby, head bowed, looking as if she’d been wronged. Robert slammed his hand on the table, his face stern, and he angrily yelled at me, “What do you see besides money? You took my son away for money, and now you’re not even willing to make dinner!” “You don’t come home, you never visit, and now that you are home, you talk about money. I think you should just live with your money and your work. Why even bother coming back!” Susan sighed, her eyes full of disappointment. “Exactly. You and Michael only come home once a year. Tiffany has been the one taking care of us. When we get sick, it’s always Tiffany who looks after us. As a daughter-in-law, what have you ever done for us?” As soon as she finished speaking, Tiffany gently stepped forward, took Susan’s hand, and softly comforted her. “Aunt Susan, please don’t be angry. Emily is a CEO; she must be much busier than a nanny like me.” Listening to them, I was so angry I almost laughed. I didn’t care about them? Their company only survived because of my investments. Even Tiffany’s salary was paid by me.

How could they see it as if I’d done nothing? I clenched my fists, suppressing the anger bubbling inside me. “It’s unfair for you to say that, isn’t it? If it weren’t for…” “You say I don’t care about you, that I only care about work and making money? But haven’t the earnings I made been invested in your company? And I call you on FaceTime regularly, so it’s not like I completely neglect you, is it?” Robert immediately scowled. “But you didn’t even come home last year for Thanksgiving or Christmas, is that acceptable? Besides, my company is doing very well, it doesn’t need your investment at all. You just want to use my company to make more money.” “Uncle Robert, please don’t be angry,” Tiffany quickly stepped forward, gently tugging Robert’s arm, a submissive smile on her face. “Emily has it tough working in New York, she definitely still thinks about you both.” But Robert became even angrier after hearing that. “So what if she’s a CEO? What’s a woman doing working so hard? Her main task is to have a child for our Michael!” Susan chimed in, “Emily, you’re not getting any younger, you really should be thinking about having children.” I rejected it without a second thought. “I’ve said it before, I’m focusing on my career for the next three years. I’ll consider having children after that.” “Three more years?” Robert’s face turned ashen. “Can you even get pregnant in three years?” “Why not?” I met his gaze. “You—” Robert’s chest heaved with anger. “You are truly selfish! What if, in three years, you’re too old and can’t have children? Will my son have to be childfree with you for the rest of his life?” I frowned. “I’m only 30, I’m still young! How could I lose my fertility in three years?” Robert slammed his hand on the table, laying down a harsh ultimatum. “Since you refuse to have children, then I’ll have no choice but to persuade Michael to divorce you. I’ll have him marry Tiffany!” I laughed in exasperation. “When Michael proposed to me back then, weren’t you all very supportive?” I looked at them, my voice calm. “At that time, your company was on the verge of bankruptcy. If it weren’t for my investment, how could your company be making money now?” “Now that you have money, you want to kick me out?” I shook my head, continuing, “No way!” Robert’s brows furrowed, and his voice immediately rose. “No matter what, if you can’t have children, you’re not qualified to be our daughter-in-law! Of course, you still have one option.” I asked him, “What option?” He cleared his throat, then said, “You hand over your company in New York to my son, resign as CEO, and come back here to take care of us.” Hearing such an outrageous request, I laughed in disbelief. “That’s even more impossible!” “So you’re just going to abandon us?” Susan chimed in, her face full of disapproval. “I didn’t say I’d abandon you,” I took a deep breath and offered a solution. “If you genuinely feel lonely, move to New York. That way, Michael and I can visit you often.” Robert immediately waved his hand, looking impatient. “Move to New York? We’ve lived here for decades, all our relatives and friends are here. Going to an unfamiliar place? We wouldn’t get used to it.” Susan nodded along. “Exactly, New York is nowhere near as comfortable as living here. We’re not going.” I frowned. “If you don’t want to go, and I can’t resign, much less abandon my company, then there’s nothing I can do.” Robert opened his mouth, wanting to continue yelling, but Tiffany quickly walked over, softly interjecting, “Uncle Robert, Aunt Susan, Emily rarely comes home. It’s Thanksgiving, let’s not fight.” She then turned to me, her smile docile. “Emily, Uncle Robert and Aunt Susan are just getting older and want someone by their side. It’s only natural, you shouldn’t be angry.” Robert’s expression softened slightly at her words, and his gaze towards Tiffany became instantly gentle. “Tiffany is so sensible, she understands us. Not like you, who only cares about work and money.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them anymore. Every word felt exhausting, so I turned and walked toward my room. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze.

My bed was covered with unfamiliar sheets and bedding, skincare products and hair ties were on my desk, and the closet held several women’s clothes. It clearly looked like someone had been living here long-term. I spun around, looking at Tiffany, who had followed me. “Don’t you have your own room? Why are you living in my room without permission?” Tiffany’s eyes flickered, and she lowered her head, looking flustered. “Emily, I’m sorry, I…” Before she could finish, Susan interjected to explain for her. “Tiffany’s room had a broken AC before, and it couldn’t be fixed after several attempts. It was cold back then, so I let her stay in your room.” “Anyway, you don’t come back to stay, so it’s just sitting empty.” My anger flared up instantly. “Even if I don’t come back to stay, it’s still Michael’s and my room! How dare you let her live here without my permission?” “How dare we?” Robert roared, his face ashen. “This house was bought by my son! We can let anyone we want live here. Not only can Tiffany stay, we can even kick you out!” His words made me tremble with rage. Suddenly, they all felt like strangers. I stopped arguing, turned, walked to the living room, and grabbed my suitcase. “Fine, I’m leaving!” Robert scoffed, his face full of disdain. “If you’ve got the guts, divorce my son quickly! And never come back!” Susan opened her mouth, but in the end, she only sighed and said nothing more. Tiffany stood by, speaking anxiously. “Emily, don’t be angry, it’s all my fault. I’ll move out right away…” I couldn’t be bothered to listen to her. I pulled my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. Dragging my heavy luggage, I walked step by step, finally hailing a cab to a nearby hotel. The next day at noon, Michael’s cousin, Lisa Miller, called. “Emily, there’s a family gathering today. Aren’t you back? Come over quickly.” “Got it, I’ll be right there.” I hung up, quickly tidied myself up, and rushed to the banquet hall. As soon as I arrived, I saw relatives gathered from a distance. Robert and Susan were there too. But as I got closer, I stopped in my tracks—Tiffany had also come, standing next to Susan. The large family sat around a round table. During the meal, Susan said: “Since all the relatives are here today, Robert and I also have something to say.” Robert took over, looking at everyone. “We’re going to persuade Michael to divorce you and marry Tiffany.” As soon as these words were out, the table instantly fell silent, and relatives exchanged bewildered glances. Susan followed up, “Tiffany is truly thoughtful. She’s by our side every day, taking care of us, more caring than a daughter.” After Susan spoke, the relatives instinctively looked at me. I said nothing. Robert glanced at me, his tone immediately hardening. “Unlike Emily, who you can’t see all year round. The moment she comes home, she talks about money.” “We asked her to resign and come back to take care of us, but she refused; we asked her to have children, but she wasn’t willing.” “I’ve never seen such a selfish woman.” Lisa, seeing the situation, quickly tried to mediate. “Uncle Robert, Emily actually cares about you a lot. She’s genuinely busy with work and under a lot of pressure. Please don’t talk about her like that.” Susan immediately waved her hand, her face looking unpleasant. “All she cares about is making money! What’s the point of having so much money if she can’t be by our side? Tiffany is different; she even gives me a massage every night before I sleep!” Robert grew more agitated, his voice rising slightly. “Since Emily isn’t suitable to be our daughter-in-law, then we’ll just get a new one!” The entire table of relatives was completely stunned, looking from one person to another, no one daring to speak. Some wanted to persuade them, but seeing Robert and Susan’s resolute attitude, they ultimately swallowed their words. The dinner ended in a strange atmosphere.

Afterward, Lisa pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Emily, they must have been manipulated by that nanny. How can they say Michael should marry Tiffany? You need to go back and talk to them properly.” I looked at Tiffany, who was chatting and laughing with Robert and Susan in the distance, and gently shook my head. “Maybe they always wanted someone who could be by their side every day. They also resent me for taking their son to New York.” The third day, I prepared to return to New York. Before leaving, I called Robert, but no one answered. I called Susan, and she hung up directly. I called several times, all rejected. I looked at my phone, no longer insistent, and dragged my suitcase to the airport, embarking on my journey back to New York. Unexpectedly, upon my return, Michael angrily confronted me: “I asked you to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, how did you manage to upset them so much that they got sick?” I was stunned. “They were the ones who wanted to argue with me; I didn’t provoke them!” Michael pulled out his phone and showed me photos of his parents in the hospital. “How do you explain this?!” I gave a bitter laugh. How could I explain? Michael continued, “Maybe my parents’ suggestion is right. I shouldn’t have come to New York for you. Maybe you’re just not suitable to be a wife.” My mouth twitched. I asked, “So? Are you going to divorce me?” Michael was silent for a moment, then said, “I didn’t say I want a divorce, but you need to apologize to my parents!” My eyes reddened. I hadn’t expected even him to side with his parents. “What if I don’t apologize?” “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless!” After Michael finished speaking, he started packing his bags. Before leaving, he told me: “I’m going back to see my parents. Let’s get a divorce!” Over the next few weeks, I kept seeing Tiffany’s Ins posts: They were eating barbecue together, the four of them posing intimately for a photo. They were walking in the park, Tiffany holding Susan and Michael’s arms, smiling sweetly. I scrolled through the screen, not liking or commenting, pretending I didn’t see anything. A few days later, a call suddenly came in. It was Susan. As soon as I picked up, I heard her voice, filled with dissatisfaction: “Emily, why hasn’t this month’s company investment arrived yet? And Tiffany’s salary, why haven’t you paid that either?”

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When I was being sexually assaulted by a strange man, my brother Sebastian’s lavish wedding was taking place downstairs. I called him for help. His cold, disgusted voice came through. “Playing the victim again? Dora, why don’t you just die!” I hung up and leaped from the top floor. I landed on the statue at his wedding venue. The statue’s wings pierced through my body. I used my last bit of strength. Smiling at Sebastian, I said. “Don’t worry… I’m going to die now.” Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sanatorium. I saw Sebastian with his head down, on the phone. Light and shadow fell unevenly on his familiar yet strange profile. My nose couldn’t help but sting. After our parents died, Sebastian and I had relied on each other growing up. He was my strongest support. But I hadn’t seen him in three years. The attending physician grabbed me, his clammy breath spraying on my neck. “Dora, about the treatment process—you need to learn to keep your mouth shut, understand?” A chill ran down my spine. I nodded obediently. “I understand.” The doctor led me by the hand into the reception room. Sebastian’s gaze slid over our clasped hands. His expression showed not a ripple of emotion. He wasn’t like this before. Our parents favored sons over daughters, and I grew up under Sebastian’s protection. When I was little and craved sweets, he’d secretly use his allowance to buy me candy. When I was naughty, he would shield me in his arms. Letting our mother beat him instead. After our parents died, Sebastian protected me even more carefully. If any man so much as looked at me, his blood pressure would spike. He’d scold them angrily. But now, I was no longer the sister he cherished and protected. Because I had killed the woman he loved most—Melody. Three years ago. On the eve of Sebastian’s wedding. Melody and her sister Natalie were in a car accident. Melody died on the spot. And Natalie told Sebastian. “Dora called and told us to drive in the rain to buy cupcakes. That’s why we got into the accident.” That day, Sebastian ignored my protests. He slapped me twice. “Dora, how could you be so greedy? Don’t you know Melody was pregnant! You killed the two people I loved most!” That day, his eyes were bloodshot. He wanted nothing more than to sew shut my mouth—so gluttonous and full of lies. Until Natalie’s understanding father stopped Sebastian. “Natural disasters are worse than human error. Don’t blame Dora.” Only then did Sebastian reluctantly let me go. After Melody’s funeral, Sebastian went abroad to manage the business she left behind. To let Sebastian focus on work, Natalie’s parents took me in. And my nightmare began.

Sebastian led me toward the parking lot. He didn’t say a word the entire way. The Sebastian who used to remind me to be careful even when walking was gone. And I was terrifyingly quiet. I used to have endless things to talk about with Sebastian. But not anymore. Because I was sick. After Sebastian went abroad, Natalie wanted nothing more than for me to die immediately. That year I was a senior in high school, in the same class as Natalie. She would bully me with others every day. One day, she had a group throw me into a sewage ditch in the rain. She said I was a sewer rat, unworthy of living in her family’s home. Then she brought me to an abandoned factory. Her three followers stripped off my clothes and pressed cigarette butts hard into my arms. Hearing my anguished screams excited them. Those disgusting bodies pressed onto me one after another. They complained about how dirty and smelly I was from the filthy water while violating me at will. And Natalie turned on her phone, recording every expression and movement with her camera. Afterward, they threatened me with the video not to report it to the police, then left. I dragged my broken body up and called Sebastian. Crying, I said Natalie and her followers had bullied me. Sebastian paused. “Dora, you owe the family a life, but they took you in without holding a grudge. Natalie was very close to her sister. She’s just venting. Why are you being so unreasonable? Don’t you know how to be grateful?” In that moment, my heart shattered along with my filthy body. I gripped the phone and finally told him the truth. “Sebastian, it wasn’t ordinary bullying… Natalie had people sexually assault me in turns. Please come back and take me away from this family, okay?” But my desperate pleading didn’t earn Sebastian’s sympathy or trust. Because Natalie produced a forged gynecological examination report. In black and white, it was crystal clear. “No bodily fluids detected, no evidence of sexual assault… old hymenal tear.” When Sebastian received the photo of the diagnosis. His roar nearly burst my eardrums. “Dora! You degraded yourself! You already slept around with men and now you’re falsely accusing Natalie! You’ve disappointed me so much!” Sebastian hung up. And never contacted me again after that. That day, I dragged my broken body home. I scrubbed my skin raw until it bled. I had thought about ending my life. But when I thought of Sebastian. I retreated from the idea. I couldn’t die, because Sebastian only had me as family. If I died, Sebastian wouldn’t be able to go on living. I hid all my grievances, studied desperately, and tried my hardest to stay alive. All I thought about was. After the SATs end, after Sebastian returns home. My days would get better. But Natalie didn’t give me that chance. Three days before the SATs. She tied me up and threw me in a field during a torrential downpour. I developed a high fever and missed the SATs. And she sent me to a psychiatric sanatorium. She told the doctor I frequently self-harmed and then played the victim in front of others. That day, I was diagnosed with Munchausen syndrome. A condition where people seek attention and sympathy through lies or self-harm. All my injuries were classified as self-inflicted, all my protests classified as lies. I was admitted to that hellish sanatorium. I stayed there for two years.

Sebastian brought me to the cemetery. Kneeling before Melody’s tombstone, I could no longer control my tears. Sebastian tossed me a few tissues. “How dare you cry in front of Melody? Put away your cheap tears, don’t defile her tombstone.” He didn’t know I wished more than anyone that she was still alive. That way she could tell everyone about the phone call I made to her before the accident. I was only reminding her the weather was bad and to come home early. I never said anything about asking her to buy me cupcakes. I wiped away my tears and apologized to Melody’s photo. “Melody, I’m sorry.” The attending physician said as long as I learned to be compliant, Sebastian wouldn’t hate me anymore. Sebastian was my only family left in this world. It didn’t matter if I was wronged, it didn’t matter if he misunderstood me. As long as he didn’t abandon me. After I knelt down, my sleeve rolled up. Sebastian suddenly gripped my wrist tightly. He pulled up my sleeve. My arm was covered with horrifying scars. From whipping, from knife cuts, and from cigarette burns. Below the scars, there was even a tattoo! “Self-harm, tattoos, smoking—Dora, do you have to degrade yourself like this? “Just to make me feel sorry for you, you hurt yourself this way? “If you don’t love yourself, then just go die!” I wanted to explain, but in the end I held it back. Everyone knew I had Munchausen syndrome. Sebastian wouldn’t believe any truth that came from my mouth. All my injuries, and that tattoo. Were all forced on me by Natalie after Sebastian went abroad. In those dark days. Natalie trampled me at will. She thought this would make me want to die. But I didn’t. My endurance made her worse. My resilience drove her crazy. Later, Natalie went mad and force-fed me laxatives. She watched me lose control in front of everyone. She pinched her nose and walked toward me. Whispering to me. “Dora, do you know why I hate you so much? Because you ruined my relationship with Sebastian.” Natalie said she and her sister both liked Sebastian. But because I was more attached to Melody, Sebastian fell in love with Melody. “Dora, I hate Melody, and I hate you too. You don’t know this, but that day it was my suggestion for her to buy cupcakes…” So it was clearly Natalie’s suggestion that took her own sister’s life. Yet she pinned the blame on me. That day, she led me away in front of the entire school. Everyone said Natalie was kind, to endure my foul odor from losing control and take me away to clean up. But no one knew. She threw me into a field during a torrential downpour. That day I went back and developed a high fever. I called out Sebastian’s name. This completely enraged Natalie. She pulled up those videos on her phone. “Dora, if your brother saw how wanton you look in these videos, would he still like you?” I forced myself up to grab her phone. But she suddenly threw herself down the stairs. That day, Natalie’s mother sent Sebastian the surveillance footage of me pushing Natalie. Natalie suggested taking me to a psychiatric sanatorium for treatment. Sebastian agreed without a second thought. He trusted the family too much. So he had no idea what I went through. Looking at Sebastian before me. I recalled the day our parents died. He held me and said. “Don’t be afraid, Dora. From now on, no matter what happens, Sebastian will protect you.” My eyes stung. I tried to explain to him. But then I saw him caressing Melody’s tombstone. “Melody, I’m back. Mom and Dad want me to try things out with Natalie. Would you bless us?”

My throat tightened. I swallowed all my protests. I didn’t know how I got in the car. When I came to, we had already arrived at the family’s villa. The family had prepared a lavish dinner to welcome us. Natalie passed by me, whispering in my ear. “I specially made cupcakes for you. You must eat them all.” My stomach convulsed. After Sebastian went abroad, Natalie would prepare cupcakes for me every meal. Under her intimidation, I had no choice but to eat them. And every time I ate them, it made Natalie’s mother break down. Gradually, Natalie’s mother looked at me with increasing hatred. Eventually, even when she witnessed Natalie bullying me with her own eyes. She would choose to turn a blind eye. So when the family sent me to the sanatorium. I even felt somewhat relieved. Because I wouldn’t have to eat cupcakes anymore. But what I didn’t expect was that when I got there, not only did I have to eat them. They were also laced with things. The attending physician put meat worms and cockroaches in the cakes. He even used rat meat and snake meat to replace the fruit. Forcing me to eat. When I refused, he’d use a cattle prod. Later, I’d be so scared I’d wet myself just hearing the word cupcake. Only then was the attending physician satisfied. I sat at the table, trembling all over. Natalie’s mother sighed. “Dora, the way you’re acting makes your brother think you’ve suffered so much in our home.” Sebastian looked at me coldly. “Dora, what are you being fragile about now? You can’t even eat a meal without wanting me to feel sorry for you?” Before, whenever I sat at the table in a daze. Sebastian would always thoughtfully ask if there were no dishes to my taste. But now, my pain was treated as affectation. I forced down my nausea and picked up that cupcake, eating it in large bites. Sebastian froze for a few seconds. Suddenly he snatched my bowl and slapped me twice. “Dora! Melody died because of this thing, and you can still eat it!”

My face stung. But I felt a sense of relief in my heart. Because the bowl was knocked over, I didn’t have to eat anymore. Natalie cried out and rushed over to shield me. Choking up, she said to Sebastian. “Sebastian, don’t do this. My sister has been gone for three years. You should let go of the past, and let go of Dora’s mistake too.” With that. She brought me to the bathroom to clean up. As soon as we entered, she pinned me against the wall. “Dora, you see now, don’t you? You’re nothing in your brother’s heart! Complaining won’t help!” My body slowly slid down. “Natalie, I won’t tell Sebastian anything. Sebastian took me to the cemetery today. I already admitted it was my fault in front of him and apologized to Melody.” Natalie yanked me up viciously. “You went to the cemetery?” A trace of triumphant laughter slid through my eyes. I knew she was angry. Natalie grabbed my throat. “What are you smiling about? Smiling because I have no place in his heart?” As she spoke, she pulled out a razor blade from somewhere. She grabbed my wrist and slashed it directly. Blood gushed out. Natalie screamed! “Sebastian, Dora’s trying to kill herself!”

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My son had a high fever in the middle of the night, so I rushed him to the pediatric hospital where my husband works. But my husband was in a meeting, and the one on duty was an intern. She grabbed my son’s arm with a displeased expression, wanting to draw blood. She failed three times, couldn’t get the needle in. My son was crying his heart out from the pain, and a lump formed on his arm. I asked her, feeling distressed, if she could get another doctor to draw the blood. She flew into a rage and threw down the needle. “You can’t even hold your kid still and you’re blaming me! Coming to the hospital over a little fever! You’re so difficult!” With that, she turned and left. Just then, a nurse from hematology happened to pass by. She comforted me, saying, “Let me do it. That intern is the Chief of Pediatrics’ assistant. You can’t afford to cross her. Half the complaints in pediatrics are caused by her.” My whole body went cold. Chief of Pediatrics? Wasn’t that my husband, Ethan Smith?

The nurse’s technique was steady. One needle, and the blood came out. Before taking it for testing, she specifically told me, “That intern’s name is Emma Brown. If you can’t stand her, I can teach you how to file a complaint…” Just then, Emma suddenly came back. She heard our conversation, and her face darkened instantly. “Dr. Smith just called to chew me out. You complained, didn’t you? So what if I stuck him a few extra times? You’re exactly what I expect from helicopter moms!” The nurse quickly slipped away. My son was still crying. I held him and rocked him gently, suppressing my anger. “I didn’t complain…” Emma rolled her eyes, pulled out a chair and sat down, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Low-class moms are terrifying! They think just because they had a kid, the whole world has to revolve around them.” After the blood test results came out, Emma casually glanced at the report. “Just a common cold. Take some medicine and you’ll be fine.” I had a vague feeling something was wrong. My son’s breathing was rapid, his cough sounded phlegmy, and his forehead was burning hot—clearly over 102 degrees. I’d learned a little from Ethan. This didn’t seem like a common cold. It was more like pneumonia. However, after hearing my guess, Emma exploded. “Am I the doctor or are you? You’re one of those moms who teaches herself medicine online, aren’t you! Your kid’s really suffering with you as a mother!” She hammered away at the keyboard again. “Go pay and get the medicine. Take it on schedule. If it’s not better in three days, come back.” I picked up the prescription and scanned it. She’d prescribed every kind of antibiotic imaginable. Total: $876. There were even several medications that children with colds shouldn’t take, including some containing alcohol. I couldn’t stand this intern anymore. “My husband is the Chief of Pediatrics here. His name is Ethan Smith. Call him over. Tell him his son has a high fever.” She looked me up and down, then covered her mouth and laughed. “Do you know how many women come looking for Dr. Smith every day? And you even brought a kid with you. Older women really have thick skin, don’t they?” My son was crying in my arms. I comforted him while saying, “If you don’t believe me, just go to his office and ask him.” Her eyes darted around, and she nodded. “Fine. I guess you won’t give up until you hit rock bottom.” About three minutes later, she came back. She sat down in her chair and crossed her legs. “Dr. Smith said he doesn’t have a kid. Stop harassing him.” My mind went blank. Ethan and I had been married for five years. Our son was three years old. During that time, he’d been incredibly attentive to me and our child. It was rare for him to be unreachable like tonight because of a shift and a meeting. There was only one possibility—she never called him at all. I pulled out my phone and dialed Ethan’s number again, but it was still turned off. Just then, my son suddenly began coughing violently, his little face turning bright red. I quickly held him upright and patted his back. As he coughed, his body suddenly went rigid. He started having a seizure.

I made the snap decision to head to the emergency room. But as I rushed toward the door holding my seizing son, my hand just touching the door handle, Emma charged over and blocked my way, looking at me with wary eyes. “Where do you think you’re going? The treatment isn’t finished yet. Are you planning to complain about me again!” I anxiously explained, “My child is having a febrile seizure. This isn’t something that can be solved with medicine or injections anymore. I need to get to emergency!” But her eyes shifted, she frowned, then turned around and locked the door. “You’re not going anywhere! If this blows up, Dr. Smith will yell at me again. I told you it’s just a normal fever. Why are you making such a fuss?” My son was convulsing in my arms, his eyes rolling back, white foam starting to appear at the corners of his mouth. I said through gritted teeth, “I won’t complain. I promise I won’t let Ethan scold you either.” She tilted her head at me. “You really think Dr. Smith is your husband? Getting too into your act, aren’t you? Just stay put!” I forcibly suppressed the urge to argue with her. The soundproofing here was good, and there were few people around at night. Arguing would only frighten my son further and wouldn’t solve the problem. I dialed Ethan’s cell phone again. Still off. I decided to call the police. But Emma seemed to understand my intention. She rushed over, snatched my phone away, and smashed it hard on the ground. “Your kid has a seizure and you’re calling the police on me? If I lose my job, will you compensate me!” My temples were throbbing with anger, but I forced it down. “If you trap me here now, something will really happen! If you treat my child, I promise I won’t complain!” But she acted like she couldn’t understand. She turned and went back to the computer. “If emergency can treat him, why can’t I? Worst case, I’ll just order you a few more tests!” I forced myself to calm down. Ethan had mentioned that to prevent incidents, every examination room had an emergency button that would bring security immediately. Looking around, I spotted that red button on the side of the desk. Moving quickly, by the time Emma realized what was happening, I’d already pressed it. Footsteps rapidly approached from outside. “What’s going on in there! Open the door!” She shouted toward the door, “Nothing! It’s a misunderstanding! Everything’s fine!” But not only could the people outside not hear her, when they discovered the door was locked, the pounding became more urgent. “Open the door!” She pressed her body against the door, but the glass door couldn’t withstand the force and shattered with a crash. Two security guards rushed in. “What’s going on?” I decisively rushed out holding my son. Glass shards cut my neck. I didn’t care about the pain and burst through the door. Not knowing which way the emergency room was, I could only shout at the top of my lungs: “Help! My son is sick! Help!” Several family members waiting for medicine in the lobby looked up, and some seemed to be debating whether to help. But the two security guards from behind caught up, and Emma shouted: “Her kid just has a common cold and fever! I prescribed medicine and drew blood, but she won’t accept it! She’s insisting her kid is dying, trying to cut the line for emergency resources!” The few passersby, seeing this, hesitated to help. Just then, a doctor passing by stopped. I rushed up to him pleading, “Doctor! My son has a high fever seizure. Please help look at him!” The doctor was just reaching out to take the child when Emma rushed over and shoved him aside. “She’s a fraud! She just smashed things and called the police in the examination room. You must have heard all that noise, right?” The doctor clearly recognized this as the legendary always-causing-trouble Emma. Seeing the blood on my neck, he sighed. “Fine. Your department’s problems are yours to solve.”

He turned and left. I was so angry I wanted to tear her mouth apart. But looking back and seeing the security guards about to catch up, I couldn’t think about it and just ran. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared around the corner ahead. It was the hematology nurse from earlier, coming out from the ward area. I rushed up to her again, pleading, “Nurse, please help me! You saw it earlier, my son’s condition. Please call a doctor!” Seeing my convulsing child in my arms, her face changed. She reached out to take him. Emma caught up again. “I was personally trained by Dr. Smith! You’re just a nurse—dare to interfere and see what happens!” The nurse’s hand froze in mid-air. Hesitation flashed across her face, and she looked like she was about to run too. I immediately grabbed her arm, leaned close to her ear, my voice low and urgent: “Please go find the Chief of Pediatrics and tell him my name is Vivian Winters!” Her eyes widened instantly. I didn’t have time to say more—the security guards caught up and grabbed my arm. I looked at her with pleading eyes. The nurse’s expression was complicated. She turned and walked away quickly. Emma directed the security guards to grab my arms and drag me back. I was hauled back to the pediatric examination room. The guards pressed me down into a chair. My son was still in my arms. His convulsions had slowed down. Emma sat back at the computer and started typing away again. “Chest X-ray, EEG, and…” I was going crazy. “He’s having a febrile seizure right now. He can’t have a chest X-ray! Besides, the child is too young. X-rays have radiation!” Emma pulled out the order form with a cold snort and walked over to me. “Didn’t you say it might be pneumonia? Don’t I need to check everything? What if I miss something and you complain me to death?” With that, she grabbed my son’s arm and tried to pull him away. I held on and wouldn’t let go, but suddenly one of the guards wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled backward. I screamed, afraid my son’s arm would dislocate. My hands instinctively loosened. She snatched my son away and ran out holding him. I chased after her. She turned into the CT room, laid my son on the examination table, and started fiddling with the machine. My son was completely still now, his little face ashen, his chest barely rising. She grabbed the restraint straps and tied my son’s hands and feet to both sides of the bed, binding them tightly. I tried to rush in, but the security guards blocked the doorway. She fumbled around for a long time, pressing this button, then that button. The machine beeped but didn’t move. I shouted desperately toward the inside, “He’s not seizing anymore! Let him down! He needs emergency care!” Emma didn’t even turn her head. “If he stopped, that’s good. Proves I handled it right. Stop making noise, I’m trying to figure out this button.” She kept pressing. The machine still didn’t respond. My son’s face grew paler and paler, while the two guards at the door kept their eyes fixed on me.

I was angry, anxious, and heartbroken, my voice trembling: “Emma isn’t a CT room doctor. What she’s doing right now is illegal operation! When it’s discovered, she’ll definitely be disciplined!” One of the guards seemed to hesitate a bit, but the one who had grabbed my waist earlier remained stone-faced. “This child belongs to Chief of Pediatrics Ethan Smith! And I just asked someone to get him!” Thinking of that nurse, I actually wasn’t sure if she would help me. “Emma is still young. If she loses her job, she can find another one! But what about you two!” The two guards exchanged glances and turned their backs. The CT room had no other exit, only an emergency stop button right next to the machine. I steeled myself, suddenly rushed in, shoved Emma aside, and pressed the emergency stop. The machine stopped. I fumbled to undo the restraints. “What are you doing!” Emma lunged at me and grabbed my hair. I undid the last buckle, scooped up my son, and held him tight against my chest. Thank God he was still alive. I turned and slapped Emma. “If anything happens to my son, I’ll make you pay with your life!” She covered her face in shock and screamed, “Someone! Security!” The two guards rushed in again and grabbed me, dragging me out. I protected my son, struggling desperately. “He needs emergency care! If something happens to him here, none of you can escape responsibility!” But Emma looked completely unconcerned. “Throw her out! If something happens to them outside, it has nothing to do with us!” The two guards decisively dragged me out of the CT room, through the corridor, toward the main entrance. “Let me go! My son really can’t hold on much longer!” “Dr. Brown is right! With all this commotion tonight, if he dies in the hospital, none of us can escape responsibility!” I was dragged to the entrance. Below the steps was the concrete pavement outside. The guard pulled me down. I slipped, fell, and my knee hit the edge of the step. I held my son tightly, my whole body aching from the impact, my vision going dark. Emma walked over and kicked my shoulder. “That’s for complaining about me!” She then pointed at me and told the guards, “This kind of mother! From now on, block every single one you see. Don’t let them in to cause trouble!” I didn’t argue with her. I immediately looked down. My son in my arms had his eyes closed. He’d stopped convulsing, his breathing so shallow it was almost undetectable. My heart filled with despair. So much time had passed and my husband still hadn’t come out. That nurse probably hadn’t helped after all. And even if I took a cab to another hospital now, given my son’s condition, by the time we got there, he would probably… Just then, a hand with prominent knuckles reached in and pulled open the glass door. Bang! The glass door slammed to the side, the frame seeming to tremble. A man in a white coat walked out. Tears streaming down my face, I looked up desperately. Ethan. Emma immediately put on a forced smile and went up to him. “Dr. Smith, perfect timing!” “This woman came to cause trouble. She even pretended to be your wife and smashed up our examination room! I was just having security throw them out…”

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When Xavier brought his eighth assistant to me for hymen reconstruction surgery, Eleanor, my mother-in-law, sent me a message: “Still not divorcing? This is the eighth one. Are you some kind of masochist?” This time I didn’t have a hysterical breakdown. I just quietly performed the reconstruction surgery on the young woman. When we walked out of the operating room, Xavier tenderly held the young woman. “There, now your first time will be mine.” The young woman seemed a bit shy in front of others. “Oh, what are you saying? Right in front of your wife, Lily? Aren’t you afraid she’ll misunderstand?” Xavier acted as if he’d only just noticed me, giving me a glance followed by mockery. “Her parents’ medical bills still depend on me. As long as I’m happy, she’ll do anything. Besides…” Xavier paused mid-sentence to glance at me. “For a woman who’s been humiliated like her to hold the position of a rich man’s wife—that’s already more than she deserves.” Meeting Xavier’s questioning gaze, I nodded, then pulled out several documents. “Perfect timing. Sign these, so I don’t have to track you down later.” Xavier signed without even looking. Then he instructed me to take good care of the young woman, adding, “Don’t make things difficult for her, or I’ll make you regret it.” I nodded obediently. Watching Xavier take the young woman to the hospital room, I pulled out the divorce agreement from among the documents. This time, I didn’t want to wrong myself anymore.

Xavier had barely left when Eleanor called me. “Have you no shame? Hurry up and divorce my son.” “Fine. How much are you willing to pay me?” Eleanor seemed surprised that I would actually agree to divorce. After all, in her view, I was clinging to Xavier for money. And I was completely unworthy of her son, so over these years of marriage, she had become my greatest enemy. From the time we started dating, she’d approached me multiple times to talk. After marriage, she mocked me every time she saw me. “Some people marry a good man and think they can comfortably settle into being a wealthy wife.” Because she didn’t like me, everyone in the wives’ social circle treated me coldly too. At first, for Xavier’s sake, I desperately tried to fit into that circle. When Xavier found out, he said, “Why do you need to fit in with them? They should be the ones trying to please you.” Back then, Xavier’s heart and eyes were full of me. The extreme mismatch in our social status—he completely ignored it. Even paying my parents’ medical bills was something he suggested, not something I demanded. When Eleanor found out, she went directly to my parents. She cursed at my parents in front of the neighbors. My parents’ health deteriorated further because of her words. When Xavier found out, he had a huge fight with Eleanor and declared, “If you target my wife again, our relationship as mother and son is over.” After that, Eleanor’s targeting of me became less obvious. But it only lasted a year. Everything changed. On our first wedding anniversary, Xavier didn’t celebrate with me, using work as an excuse. But I saw him on his assistant’s social media. Xavier, who had no time to celebrate with me, had time to celebrate his assistant’s birthday. I made a huge scene that day, but Xavier was dismissive. “The assistant is Director Lin’s daughter. This is business entertainment. Don’t be so unreasonable.” But later, seeing I was truly angry, Xavier apologized. He swore to me there would never be a next time. But a man’s mouth—it’s full of lies. The next time came quickly. From my initial hysteria, I’d become numb by now. I understood clearly—people don’t rot from the beginning. Perhaps the current Xavier was the real him. But I kept remembering how sincere Xavier was when we first got together. His acting was excellent. He deceived me, making me believe I’d met true love, met a man worth spending my life with. But then he said to me, “You’re not even a virgin. You expect me to be faithful to you?”

In that instant, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Meeting my heartbroken eyes, Xavier realized he’d said the wrong thing. He quickly tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean it like that, I…” His attempt to explain was interrupted by a phone call. Xavier answered the phone gently and walked away without looking back. I watched Xavier’s retreating figure, my heart feeling torn apart. So when he said he didn’t care at all, he was lying. Back when we first got together, Xavier’s competitors couldn’t find any weakness in him. He’d announced our relationship publicly, so I became their target. To humiliate Xavier, they found someone to nearly assault me. That was the first time I’d seen Xavier angry. He nearly killed that man. Afterward, Xavier bankrupted that person in less than a day. He’s still in prison now. But now… “Are you serious?” Eleanor’s skeptical voice pulled my thoughts back to the present. I nodded. “Yes.” “Fine. How much money do you want?” “Whatever you’re willing to give.” For the first time, I hung up before waiting for Eleanor to finish speaking. She immediately sent several angry messages complaining about me. Seeing I didn’t reply, she could only fume, eventually transferring me five million dollars. Although it wasn’t much compared to the Xavier family’s wealth, it was enough for me. After accepting the money, I blocked Eleanor. Then I handed the divorce agreement and all the evidence to my lawyer, having him handle our divorce lawsuit. I thought Xavier and I wouldn’t see each other again, but I didn’t expect him to bring someone to my small apartment. Seeing Xavier and Molly, I instinctively frowned. Xavier casually pushed me aside and brought Molly in to look at the place. “This small apartment is closest to the office. You’ll live here from now on, so I can come see you anytime.” “Okay, Xavier.” “Xavier, this is my apartment.” “What, drawing such clear lines with me now? Fine then. Your parents’ nursing home fees—should you settle those yourself? I don’t need to pay anymore, right?” “You…” I never imagined Xavier would say such things for Molly’s sake. Seeing me unable to fight back, Xavier smiled smugly. “Alright, I’ll compensate you. You can go live in that small apartment near your hospital.” Hearing this, my heart sank. Had Xavier completely forgotten? I was nearly assaulted in that small apartment. Back then, I became depressed because of that incident. Xavier stayed with me every day until I recovered. But now? I looked at Xavier in disbelief. “You want me to live where?” “What? Unwilling? That place is much bigger than this apartment.” Xavier had just finished speaking when something seemed to occur to him. He slapped his forehead in realization. He looked at Molly with a smile. “I forgot—that’s where she slept with another man.” “Slap…” I really couldn’t hold back. The moment the slap landed on Xavier’s face, my heart skipped a beat. “Xavier, you…” “Slap!” It was my face that got hit. Molly looked at me with a trembling body, her face flushed red with anger. “What right do you have to hit people? You seduced Xavier’s competitor during your marriage, and he didn’t even despise you for it. Now you’re acting proud?” Molly’s protective behavior made Xavier laugh. “Alright, don’t stoop to her level.” Then Xavier looked at me magnanimously. “You hit me, Molly defended me. We’re even now. You should be more gracious too. Whether you and I can continue depends on you.”

Xavier’s threatening intent was obvious. But I didn’t want to endure it anymore. “Get out.” “Lily…” Xavier glared at me, dissatisfied. “You really want to tear off all pretenses?” “Yes.” “Good. Very good.” Xavier smiled at me, then turned and left with Molly. I knew Xavier would retaliate, but I didn’t expect him to be this vicious. That same day, my nude photos were spread wildly in our hospital’s group chat, captioned: One hundred dollars per session. I became the laughingstock of the entire hospital. Colleagues who’d been jealous of my rapid promotion due to my excellent medical skills directly reported me: “We suspect she’s engaging in power-for-sex transactions at the hospital.” Unable to withstand the pressure, the hospital sent people to investigate. The so-called investigation was really just pinning charges on me. In the end, I, a gynecology specialist, was directly fired. The deputy director rumored to be having an affair with me even came forward saying I’d seduced him. Furious, I confronted him, demanding to know why he was framing me. To my surprise, he was even more disgusted with me. “Lily, you have the nerve to blame me? You and your husband are playing me for a fool. Do you know my wife doesn’t believe me now and insists on divorcing me?” Listening to the deputy director’s condemnation, my body shook violently. I knew this had something to do with Xavier, but I never imagined that to stand up for Molly, he would slander me like this. He even personally intervened to make my disgrace stick. True love, indeed. Xavier used to protect me the same way. Fortunately, my lawyer called saying our divorce certificate would be processed soon. Once it was done, Xavier and I would have nothing to do with each other. That day, worried my parents would be upset if they saw the news, I wanted to go to the nursing home and explain things clearly to them. When I arrived, I just happened to see my parents being kicked out of the nursing home. They didn’t struggle at all, just silently took their belongings and left. Hiding in the shadows, I heard my parents sighing. “Our daughter and Xavier have reached the end. We can’t drag her down anymore.” “Yes.” The couple looked at each other, then walked away with hunched backs. I quietly followed behind them, picking up my phone to call them. I held back my tears. They forced smiles too. As I was about to hang up, my parents cautiously asked, “You and Xavier…” “Yes, we’ve started divorce proceedings. I’ve booked plane tickets for you to leave. You should…” “Good. We’ll leave right away.” My parents answered me quickly. We tacitly said nothing more, and then I sent them the ticket information. Watching my parents leave, I breathed a sigh of relief. Given Xavier’s current level of devotion to Molly, I truly didn’t know what he might do to my parents. Their leaving was for the best. That night I didn’t go to the small apartment near the hospital. Instead, I returned to the marital home I shared with Xavier. All my belongings were there. But I didn’t expect that the moment I opened the door, I would see Molly and Eleanor. Eleanor immediately gave me a cold look. “Have you no shame? Hurry up and divorce my son.” “I can. How much are you planning to give me?” I ignored Eleanor and went upstairs to pack my things. But they watched me like they were monitoring a criminal. When I wanted to take my cosmetics, Molly even mocked, “Lily, these things were all bought with Xavier’s money, right?” At first, I didn’t respond, but every time I reached for something, Molly would mock me. Unable to bear it anymore, I said, “What, aren’t you spending Xavier’s money now? Xavier and I aren’t even divorced yet. The money he’s spending on you—I have the right to demand it back.” “You…” Molly immediately stamped her feet in anger. But the next moment, she sat down directly on the floor. “Lily, I kindly wanted to let you stay here a few more days. Why did you hit me? Do you hate me that much?” “Lily…”

Meeting Xavier’s eyes that looked like they wanted to devour me, I was too lazy to defend myself. Xavier shot me a vicious glare, then nervously helped Molly up. “Are you okay?” Molly shook her head fearfully. “I’m fine. I just don’t know why Lily…” Before she could finish, Molly began crying pitifully. Xavier looked at me again. I simply said flatly, “I’ll leave once I’ve packed my things.” “Apologize.” Xavier’s face was grim, his hand gripping my wrist tightly. In that moment, I read one message in Xavier’s eyes: if I didn’t apologize, I would definitely regret it. “Xavier, because of you, I was fired from the hospital. Because of you, my parents were kicked out of the nursing home. Because of you, I’m now a whore. Because of you, I’ve been insulted. And now, because of a mistress’s few words, you want me to apologize?” I looked at Xavier aggressively. I wanted to know if this man truly had no heart. The facts proved that when a man doesn’t love you anymore, anything you say is worthless. “What happened to you is what you deserve. What does it have to do with me? Stop deflecting. Apologize to Molly right now, or else…” “Or else what?” I stared at Xavier defiantly. He panicked for a moment, frowning and saying softly, “Why do you have to be so difficult? You know Molly is still young. Why are you arguing with her? No one can shake your position. Can’t you just behave?” I really couldn’t understand Xavier. If he didn’t love me anymore, why not let go? From the first time Xavier cheated with an assistant, I’d proposed divorce. Time after time, Xavier always refused. He even targeted me because I wanted a divorce. Everyone who was good to me had been targeted. So that now, only my parents still stood on my side. And now they were gone too. Xavier had no one left to threaten me with. “Xavier, in this house, it’s either me or her.” “Ha, how arrogant. You really think my son can’t live without you. My son just pities you.” “A woman like you who’s been used by others and can’t even have children—our Xavier family doesn’t want you.” Eleanor’s words stabbed into my chest like knives. “So Lily is targeting me because I’m pregnant and you can’t conceive?” Molly’s one sentence made my face change dramatically. “Lily, why pretend you don’t know? You’re a doctor. Couldn’t you tell at a glance?” I ignored Molly, only looking at Xavier. “Answer me. Is she pregnant?” “Yes.” “So you’re keeping this child?” “Yes.” Xavier answered firmly, even worrying I might harm Molly, quickly shielding her behind him. Watching the Xavier family on high alert, I couldn’t help but laugh. But as I laughed, tears came. For myself, and for my unborn child. That was my first child, and Xavier’s first child too. But when he learned of the pregnancy, he wasn’t happy at all. Instead, he was troubled. Later he told me, “Lily, you know I grew up without a father. I’m not ready yet. I don’t think we’re suited to have a child right now.” I knew very well that my body conceiving a child was extremely difficult. So I explained to Xavier that I could take good care of the child. But he acted tormented every day, as if he would die if I gave birth to this child. When a colleague learned I was going to have an abortion, she was shocked. “Dr. Lily, you know very well that this might…” I didn’t let her finish, because I knew she was right. But I couldn’t take the risk. I couldn’t let Xavier suffer. In the end, I had a miscarriage. And that man who said he’d never want children for the rest of his life was now carefully cherishing his mistress and her child. Tears fell uncontrollably. “Xavier, back then our…” “Enough, Lily. Some things I won’t mention, so don’t bring them up yourself. If you don’t find it shameful, I find it disgusting!” Xavier glanced at me with disgust. I was instantly petrified. What did that mean? Was he—was he suspecting me? My chest hurt, but I still asked, “So back then it wasn’t that you didn’t want children—you didn’t want my child?” “Exactly. You’re dirty.” Eleanor answered first, and Xavier didn’t deny it. In that moment, I felt like a joke. I laughed bitterly at myself, throwing a document at Xavier. “Take a good look. I hope you never regret your decisions for the rest of your life.” Xavier dismissively glanced at the document. With just one look, his expression changed drastically. “This is impossible…”

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When I opened my eyes again, the world smelled of stale grease and desperation. My brother, Tyler, was mid-shove, cramming his sixth drumstick into a mouth already slick with oil. My mother stood over me, the thin, stinging switch in her hand twitching like a snake’s tail. She pointed toward the treadmill in the corner of our cramped living room. “Get on it,” she snapped. “Your brother’s eating for two today. You need to burn off those calories before they settle in his gut.” She had spent years obsessed with the teachings of a “Quantum Wellness Guru” she’d found on the dark corners of the internet. This man had convinced her that as fraternal twins, Tyler and I shared a singular metabolic tether. He called it “Somatic Entanglement.” According to her, Tyler was the vessel for our family’s “abundance,” and I was the exhaust pipe. Every time Tyler spent an afternoon gorging himself on the couch, I was forced onto that treadmill until my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. In my previous life, that’s exactly how it ended—acute malnutrition meeting physical exhaustion. My heart simply gave up at 2 AM while Tyler slept off a stuffed-crust pizza. I died so he could stay “sculpted” for a future that never belonged to me. But this time, I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry about my eighty-pound frame or my dizzy spells. I climbed onto the belt with a compliant smile. “You’re right, Mom,” I said, my voice smooth as silk. “I’m his sister. The faster I run, the better he absorbs the ‘blessings,’ right?” I pulled out my phone and swiped through a delivery app. I ordered the “Mega-Family Feast” from the local fried chicken joint and ten extra-large, full-sugar boba teas. I looked at Tyler—his face was already a mask of gluttony—and my smile widened. “Eat up, Tyler. Don’t worry about the weight. I’ll run until my legs break if it means you get to keep that ‘golden physique’ the Guru promised.” … In my first life, I was the ultimate overachiever. By twenty-five, I had clawed my way into a VP position at a top-tier tech firm. I worked eighty-hour weeks, fueled by the pathetic hope that if I just earned enough, if I was just “useful” enough, my parents would finally look at me with something resembling love. I handed over seventy percent of my paycheck every month. I endured their “Quantum Diet” rituals. I was the ghost in the machine of their perfect family dynamic. When I collapsed and died on that treadmill, my father didn’t even look up from his tablet. He just asked the EMTs if my life insurance policy would cover the down payment on Tyler’s new Porsche. The doorbell rang, shattering the memory. The delivery driver dropped off two massive bags. The scent of salt and sugar filled the room, cloying and heavy. Tyler’s eyes lit up like a predator’s. He didn’t even use a napkin; he just started tearing into the fresh batch of wings. Diane, my mother, pulled a wet wipe from her pocket, dabbing at the corner of Tyler’s mouth with a sickeningly sweet devotion. “Eat more, honey. Every bite is a step toward your destiny.” In the last life, Tyler used to complain that I wasn’t running fast enough. He used to throw his gnawed-on chicken bones at my face, shouting that I was making him feel “bloated” because I was being lazy on the treadmill. This time, I just watched him. I watched the way his throat worked as he swallowed, the way the grease stained his shirt. Eat, Tyler. Eat until you can’t breathe. He finished half a bucket and started double-fisting the boba teas, the sugar hit turning his eyes glazed. He let out a loud, wet burp that echoed through the room. Mom whipped around, her face contorting into a mask of fury as she looked at me. “Are you even trying? You’re barely moving!” She raised the switch, the air whistling as she mimicked a strike. “Your brother just took in ten thousand calories! If you don’t burn them off right now, you’re stealing his future! Run, damn you!” I nodded obediently and cranked the treadmill to its maximum speed. The belt roared. I waited for the perfect moment—a slight shimmer of sweat on my brow, a flicker of feigned dizziness. Then, I intentionally tripped. I let the belt hurl my body backward. I hit the floor with a heavy thud, clutching my chest and gasping for air. Mom didn’t rush to help me up. She rushed over to kick my shin. “Stop faking! Get back up! The energy is stagnant!” I grabbed her ankle, my breathing ragged and shallow. “Mom… I can’t! It’s too much!” “What are you talking about?” “Tyler ate too much too fast!” I cried, my voice trembling with practiced terror. “The ‘Quantum Channel’… it’s too narrow! It’s overloaded! It’s backed up!” I saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. I leaned into the script I’d prepared. “The Guru’s latest blog post… he warned about this. If the conduit—that’s me—forces the energy when the channel is blocked, the ‘blessings’ turn into ‘miasma.’ It flows backward!” I looked her dead in the eye. “It’ll rupture his stomach, Mom. It’ll bloat him until he pops from the inside out.” The door to the study slammed open. My father, Richard, finally emerged. He was a man who only existed when his son’s “potential” was at stake. He strode over and grabbed the switch from Mom’s hand, throwing it aside. “Is this true?” he barked, looking down at me as if I were a piece of malfunctioning hardware. “If you can’t handle the flow, you’re useless. If you ruin his foundation, I’ll sell everything you own to pay for the damage.” I didn’t flinch. I just looked at Tyler with fake concern. “Dad’s right. My body is too weak. I’m a failure. But… if Tyler has absorbed this much ‘fortune,’ he needs to ‘anchor’ it. If he doesn’t, the luck will leak out.” “Leak out?” Mom gasped. “We can’t have that! What do we do?” “The Guru says that in cases of extreme ‘blessing overload,’ you have to use pure animal fats to weigh down the spirit,” I whispered. “Starting tonight, at exactly midnight, Tyler has to eat two full orders of fried chicken. And he can’t move afterward. He has to lie perfectly flat and sleep, pressing the fortune deep into his marrow.” Richard’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Like a weighted anchor. It makes sense. It stabilizes the core.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll pay for it, Dad. For Tyler’s sake.” At midnight, five orders of the greasiest, sauce-glazed fried chicken arrived. Tyler was already groggy from his food coma, but Mom dragged him out of bed. “Eat, my prince,” she whispered, shoving the glistening meat toward him. “This is your empire. This is your crown. Eat it all.” The smell was overwhelming—a thick, cloying cloud of rendered fat. Tyler, driven by a lifetime of unchecked gluttony, began to tear into the chicken By the time he finished the second one, he was struggling to swallow. “Quickly!” I urged. “He has to lie flat! Right now!” They hauled his 280-pound frame back to bed like they were moving a mountain of raw dough. He lay there, rigid, his breathing coming in wet, heavy rasps. I retreated to my room and waited. At 1:00 AM, I stood outside Tyler’s door, watching through the crack. The “mountain” began to heave. Tyler’s eyes snapped open, wide and bloodshot. He clawed at his throat, his mouth opening in a silent scream. The sheer volume of high-fat, high-sugar sludge was pressing against his diaphragm, cutting off his air. His face turned a sickening shade of plum. Survival instinct finally kicked in, and he lurched to his side. A fountain of bile and undigested fat sprayed across the floor. The sound woke our parents. Mom ran in, barefoot and hysterical. When she saw the mess and Tyler’s purple face, she screamed. She turned on me, grabbing my arm and digging her nails in. “You jinxed him! You did this with your bad thoughts! If he dies, I’ll kill you myself!” I didn’t pull away. I pointed at Tyler’s face. “Mom! Look at the color! Look at his skin!” She froze. “The Guru calls this ‘The Royal Purple Awakening’!” I shouted. “It happens when the ‘Abundance’ finally takes root and expels the ‘Poverty Spirit’ from the bloodline! That mess on the floor? That’s all the bad luck of our ancestors being purged!” Richard stood in the doorway, breathless. When he heard “purge the ancestors’ bad luck,” he hesitated. I pressed harder. “If you take him to the hospital now, the doctors will pump his stomach. They’ll wash away all the ‘Liquid Gold’ he just anchored! Do you want him to go back to being ordinary? Do you want to flush his fortune down a hospital drain?” Richard grabbed Mom’s phone and shoved it into his pocket. “No hospitals. My son is becoming a king. Look at him… he’s breathing again. He’s fine!” They didn’t scold me. Instead, they got down on their knees and began to clean up the foul-smelling vomit with towels, whispering prayers to a God of Greed I didn’t recognize. I stood in the shadows, cold and silent. The real show hadn’t even started yet. The next morning, Tyler tried to scream for water. But when he opened his mouth, the only sound that came out was a horrific, sandpaper rasp. The gastric acid from the night before had severely burned his esophagus and vocal cords. Mom came running from the kitchen, her face pale. “Tyler! Your voice! What happened?” I stepped forward with a chilled, extra-sweet boba tea from the fridge. I popped the straw in and held it to his lips. “Don’t panic, Mom. This is a gift,” I said, smiling at Tyler’s twisted, pained expression. “Think about all those billionaire CEOs on TV. Do they have high, squeaky voices? No. They have that deep, gravelly authority. The Guru says this is his ‘Command Presence’ settling in.” Tyler took a huge gulp of the icy, syrupy drink. The extreme cold and the concentrated sugar hit his raw, chemical-burned throat like liquid fire. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He let out a strangled, agonizing wail and threw the plastic cup against the wall. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his neck and rolling in the spilled tea. Mom shrieked, but I clapped my hands, my voice filled with a manic, cult-like fervor. “It’s working! It’s the ‘Ice-Fire Tempering’! Last night purged the rot, today the cold is stripping away the last of his ‘common’ nature! The more it hurts, the deeper the transformation!” Richard burst in. Seeing his son thrashing on the floor, he didn’t feel pity. He looked radiant. “He’s a warrior! A little pain is nothing for a man of his stature!” He cleared his throat, looking at me with his usual transactional coldness. “Tomorrow is your grandfather’s 70th birthday dinner. The whole extended family will be there. I want you to take ten thousand dollars from your savings.” He didn’t ask. He ordered. “Get Tyler a custom-tailored, high-end Italian suit. Something that screams ‘Executive.’ And book the most expensive steakhouse in the city. Tomorrow, your brother shows everyone who the real head of this family is.” I looked at his greedy face and nodded meekly. “Of course, Dad. I’ll handle everything.” That afternoon, I took them to a boutique tailor. I pointed at Tyler—all 280 pounds of him—and looked the tailor in the eye. “I want it slim-fit. European cut. I want the waist and chest so tight there isn’t a single wrinkle.” I turned to my mother. “The Guru says a tight core ‘constricts the wealth’ so it can’t leak out during social gatherings.” She nodded, mesmerized by the logic. Next, I went to the city’s premier seafood house and ordered the “Grand Emperor’s Feast”—a menu designed to be a nightmare of sodium, cholesterol, and purines. The next day, before the party, Mom and Dad spent twenty minutes literally stuffing Tyler into that suit like a sausage into a casing. He was dripping sweat, the buttons on his shirt straining until they were nearly projectiles. He could barely draw a full breath. I stepped up and personally tightened his silk tie. As his face turned a slight shade of cyan, I leaned in and whispered, “Hold it in, Tyler. Today, you are the center of the universe.” The restaurant was packed with relatives. When the doors opened and Mom led Tyler in, everyone went silent. He looked like a Michelin Man made of expensive wool. Out of respect for the fact that I was paying the bill, the relatives forced a round of applause. “Look at Tyler! A real titan of industry!” Tyler beamed, his ego overriding his physical agony. He cleared his raspy throat and forced out a few words. “Welcome… eat… drink…” My uncle frowned. “What’s wrong with his voice?” Mom tossed her head back. “It’s his ‘Executive Tone.’ The Guru says only men destined for billions speak with that kind of weight.” The appetizers were cleared, and the “hard” dishes arrived. Butter-drenched lobster, foie gras, fatty ribeyes, and salt-crusted crab. Tyler’s stomach, already raw from the reflux and crushed by the suit, couldn’t handle it. But Mom kept piling the fat onto his plate. “Eat, honey. Your ‘Wealth Reservoir’ needs to be full to impress the ancestors!” Then, Richard stood up. He cracked open a bottle of vintage, high-proof bourbon. He poured a double shot and handed it to Tyler. “Son! Give a toast to your grandfather! Use that ‘Executive Voice’!” Tyler looked at the stinging amber liquid and recoiled. “Dad… my throat… I can’t…” Mom hesitated for a split second. “Maybe just a sip?” I stood up immediately and refilled the glass to the brim. “Mom! A leader never backs down from a challenge. The Guru calls this ‘Lighting the Fuse.’ The higher the proof, the faster it ignites the wealth-fire in his belly! If he doesn’t drink this, the hundred-million-dollar legacy might just vanish.” At the mention of the hundred million, Mom’s eyes went cold. She lunged forward, pinched Tyler’s nose shut, and tilted his head back. “For your future, Tyler! Swallow!” She poured the 110-proof bourbon directly down his throat. Tyler’s eyes rolled back. His pupils dilated. “AAAAAAGH!” A scream like a dying animal ripped through the restaurant. His suit jacket literally split down the back as he convulsed. Then, he began to vomit—not just food, but streaks of dark, clotted blood and bile, splashing all over the birthday cake. My aunt screamed and hit the floor. Tyler’s massive body slumped over like a pile of wet sand, dragging the tablecloth and the expensive crystal down with him. The ambulance was called in a panic. Outside the ER, the surgeon walked out, his face grim, holding a piece of paper. “Acute gastric perforation with massive internal hemorrhaging. He’s lost too much blood. His type is A-negative, and the blood bank is low. Do we have any immediate family with A-negative?” My mother, hysterical on the floor, pointed a shaking finger at me. “Take hers! Take all of it! They’re twins—her blood belongs to him anyway! Drain her dry if you have to, just save my son!” I looked at her monstrous face. I didn’t fight. I slowly rolled up my sleeves, exposing my arms under the harsh fluorescent lights. They were bone-thin, covered in the yellowish bruises of severe anemia. There wasn’t a healthy vein in sight. I looked at my stunned mother and let out a cold, hollow laugh. “Too bad, Mom. I’m already empty. You squeezed every last drop out of this body years ago. My ‘low-class’ blood isn’t fit for a billionaire anyway.”

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