Category: English

Today was our tenth anniversary, and our third wedding anniversary. To the outside world, Patrick and I were the perfect couple. But a string of disasters had cast a shadow over our life. It started with Patrick’s friend Dylan. He’d borrowed two hundred thousand dollars from us, then gambled it all away. Patrick was devastated, apologizing repeatedly. I swallowed my own anxiety and comforted him, telling him we’d figure it out. Two weeks later, Patrick had a minor car accident. The elderly other driver demanded compensation; we eventually paid ten thousand to settle it. A month later, Patrick’s father was diagnosed with kidney failure. An urgent transplant would cost around fifty thousand dollars. I remembered ten years ago, when a boulder nearly hit us on a hike. Patrick shielded me with his body, landing him in the ICU. When he woke, he transferred all his assets to my name, saying it was to ensure my safety. But now, three years into our marriage, he was secretly moving those same assets. I once overheard the delicate girl in his arms call me a washed-up hag, asking when I’d die. Patrick soothed her, saying, “Just wait a little longer.” I kept asking: what is love? Then I saw a forum post: “How do you know if he truly loves you?” The top comment read: “Love is fluid. It answers to no one.” In that moment, something settled inside me. A decade, leading here. But I wouldn’t accept this as my ending. … It was one thing after another, a crushing weight that left us breathless. Patrick held me, his tears dampening my neck. “I’m so sorry, Anna,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for dragging you through all this.” “This is nothing,” I murmured, stroking his back as I transferred the money to his parents’ account. “We’ve been through worse.” And we had. After grad school, Patrick caught the tech wave, co-founding Serenity Tech with a classmate to develop stress-relief mobile games. In the early days, they were short-staffed and had no money for employees. After a sleepless night, I quit my stable government job and became Serenity Tech’s fourth employee. My bachelor’s was in accounting and my master’s was in finance, so I took on everything: administration, finance, sales, even cleaning. At our poorest, we were crammed into a sixty-dollar-a-month basement, living on instant ramen. I remember joking through a mouthful of noodles, “Patrick, when can I upgrade to the cup noodles?” His eyes had turned red, his voice thick. “Anna,” he’d sworn, “one day, I’ll make sure you have beef soup for breakfast, pork ribs for lunch, and Italian steak for dinner.” Back then, the good life was just a meal with meat. Now, six years later, Serenity Tech was on the verge of going public, thanks to a few hit games. We’d moved from that basement to a sprawling penthouse downtown. The recent expenses were a drop in the bucket, but old habits die hard, and every large withdrawal still felt like a punch to the gut. After sending the money, I let out a long sigh. “Patrick, I feel like we’ve had a run of bad luck. I’m going to go to the Sanctuary of Hope tomorrow and get a charm for you.” I was a staunch atheist, but four years ago, that had changed. We were on a road trip, driving through the mountains, when a massive rock dislodged and came hurtling down, slamming directly onto the hood of our car. Before I could even process what was happening, Patrick had thrown his entire body over me in the passenger seat. I was untouched. He was left unconscious with a severe head injury and rushed to the ICU. That night, the doctor told me, “He took a direct hit to the head. There’s bleeding in his brain. If he wakes up within 24 hours, he should be fine. If not, we’ll have to perform surgery. And even then, there are no guarantees.” I collapsed, my legs giving out from under me, begging the doctor to save him. He must have taken pity on me. “Miss,” he’d said gently, “there’s a small chapel near the north entrance. Maybe you should go there. He’s down, but you need to be strong.” I knelt in that chapel for two solid hours, praying to any god that would listen to let Patrick wake up. I offered ten years of my life for his safety. If ten wasn’t enough, I’d give twenty. The next morning, as the first rays of dawn streamed through the hospital window, Patrick’s eyes fluttered open. The tears I’d held back while he was unconscious came flooding out, and I cried until I couldn’t breathe. Once he was stable, he squeezed my hand. “Anna,” he said, his voice firm, “I’ve made up my mind. When I get out of here, I’m putting all my assets in your name.” I didn’t understand. He brushed a stray piece of hair from my forehead. “Anna, when I was in the coma… I could hear you. All I could think was, if I really died, what would you do? We’re not even married. My relatives would have swarmed in to fight over my inheritance, and you would have been all alone. So I’m giving everything to you. That way, if something happens, I can rest in peace knowing you’ll be taken care of.” “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare leave before I do,” I’d choked out, tapping his chest with a weak fist. He’d cried out, “Oww, that hurts!” As I leaned in, worried I’d actually hurt him, he produced a diamond ring from under his pillow. “Anna Scott,” he’d whispered, “will you marry Patrick Leigh?” There was no hesitation. This man had saved my life with his own. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been the one lying in that hospital bed. I slipped my finger through the ring. It was a perfect fit. He pulled me into a hug, his body still trembling with the aftershock. “Babe, I was going to propose on this trip. I guess fate had other plans. But they say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. From now on, I’m going to treat you like a princess.” From that day on, I started to believe. I would stop at every church, every chapel, not for myself, but to pray for Patrick’s safety. … So the next morning, I drove to the Sanctuary of Hope, the most visited spiritual place in the city. I knelt before the altar for two hours straight. With the blessed charm in hand, I was about to leave when I heard a small cry from the entrance. “Ma’am, I twisted my ankle. Can you help me?” The girl who called out was in her early twenties, dressed in a simple white dress, her makeup minimal. A high ponytail swung as she moved, and her fair face had a touch of stubbornness to it, reminding me of myself right after college. I felt an instant sense of connection and rushed over to help her up. She thanked me profusely. “Oh, thank you so much! A lot of people just walked past, but you were the only one who stopped. You know,” she gushed, “when I saw you, I felt this instant connection, like we were meant to be sisters.” Her enthusiasm was a little overwhelming. “It’s no problem,” I said, trying to gently disengage. “Let me get security to help you.” But she suddenly gripped my hand. “Oh, by the way, my German tutor taught me a word the other day, Seelenverwandt. I can’t for the life of me remember what it means. Do you know?” The change in topic was abrupt, and my guard went up instantly. She was smiling at me, but her eyes held a new glint of condescending amusement. I’d never formally studied German, but Patrick had minored in it. The very first word he ever taught me was Seelenverwandt. A spiritual twin. A soulmate. Patrick used to call me his Seelenverwandt. He said our love was symbiotic, a bond that would last until death. For years, it was our secret code, the word we’d whisper before we kissed. My pinned social media post was still the nine-photo collage from the day we got our marriage license, the caption reading: Congratulations to my Seelenverwandt, Mr. Leigh. You’ve just won the chance to spend the rest of your life with me. And now, a complete stranger was asking me what Seelenverwandt meant. My mind went to the one place I didn’t want it to go. Patrick was cheating on me. I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Do you know Patrick?” The girl blinked innocently. “Nope, never heard of him. Oh! I just remembered I have German homework to finish. I should get going. Can we exchange numbers, though? If you don’t mind.” She continued, her words a rapid-fire assault. “By the way, my name is Piper. My German tutor loves calling me ‘Anna.’ He says Piper is peaceful, and so is Anna. Isn’t he cute? Oh, I have no filter, you’ll have to forgive me. I’ll call you later to thank you properly.” Normally, I would have politely declined. But Piper had planted a seed of doubt, and I couldn’t stand uncertainty. Some things had to be brought into the light. By the time I got home, it was evening. Patrick had said he had a business dinner and would be home around nine. Our housekeeper, Maria, brought me a bowl of soup. “Ma’am, the mister specifically asked me to make this for you. He said your period is coming, and you always get bad cramps, so you need to eat well and stay warm.” I sat at the table, lost in thought. On one hand, there was a decade of Patrick’s unwavering care and affection. On the other, a stranger’s vague, provocative words. Shouldn’t I give the man I shared my bed with more credit? Maria kept chattering. “He’s so good to you, ma’am. You’ve been married all this time with no children, and he never pressures you. Whenever anyone asks, he just jokes that it’s his fault. If you ask me, you should hurry up and have a baby. Otherwise, all those other women out there will be lining up to have one for him…” I slammed my bowl down on the table. “Maria, if you’re tired, perhaps it’s time for you to go home and retire!” She shut her mouth, looking chastened. But her words had tightened the knot of anxiety in my chest. We had been together ten years, married for three, and were still childless. At first, it was because of the startup. Then, last year, I’d had a chemical pregnancy, a loss that happened before we even knew to be excited. So, at the beginning of this year, I had stepped down from my role as CFO at the company to focus on getting pregnant. And now, I was faced with the possibility that my entire marriage was a lie. I immediately contacted the best private investigator in the city. Whatever the outcome, I needed the truth. Once that was done, I tried to clear my head and idly scrolled through my phone. The first thing I saw was a new post from Piper. Got in trouble with my German tutor again. I forgot the meaning of Seelenverwandt today, so my punishment is to whisper it in his ear a thousand times. And if my pronunciation is off, I get a little swat. Can someone report a teacher for corporal punishment? The accompanying photo was taken in a massive floor-length mirror. A girl in a tight, black lace dress was kneeling. Behind her stood a man in a suit, holding a leather riding crop. The photo was artfully blurred, but the man’s build was unmistakably Patrick’s. Half an hour later, another post from Piper. Class is finally over. I’m exhausted. The picture was just the riding crop, lying on a plush surface, the leather gleaming under the light. I couldn’t breathe. A war raged in my head. You’ve been together for ten years. You’ve been through hell and back. You know him better than anyone. How can you doubt him? He took a rock for you! He has a permanent get-out-of-jail-free card with you! Love is fickle. Do you really think it can withstand any temptation? Piper is younger, prettier, has a better body. If I were a man, I’d choose her too. “Enough!” I slammed my hand on the table, my control finally snapping. The soup bowl tipped over, red broth spilling across the wood and dripping onto the floor. A complete mess. “Babe, what’s wrong?” It was Patrick. He was home. The timing was perfect. Piper’s “class” had just ended, and here he was. The suspicion was so thick I couldn’t even pretend to be happy to see him. I fantasized, for a moment, about him confessing, and me destroying everything he had ever built. Patrick glanced at my phone screen and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Babe, I knew this day would come. Let me explain.”

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As the first zoologist to discover the mythical Harpies, my life was once shattered by fate. In my past life, I passed the entrance exam and partnered with the brilliant Stella for an overseas fellowship. Together, we won the highest international award, hailed as a dream team. But our success drove her envious junior colleague, Toby, to overdose. The night before our return, Stella made a televised accusation, claiming I had sold our national research to a foreign corporation. “You stole Toby’s study materials and pushed him to fail!” she cried, calling me a traitor unworthy of science. Only then did I realize she had stolen my father’s research, ruining his reputation. He died in disgrace. My mother, tricked by Stella into entering a wild reserve to help me, was killed by wolves, leaving no remains. The forged “traitor’s agreement” sealed my fate. No institution would take me, and I fell from promising scholar to a homeless wanderer abroad. One snowy winter night, I froze to death on the street, my life over in half a month. Now, back from hell with bitter memories, I held back. In the selection exam, I carefully scored second place. Watching Stella and her protégé celebrate on the results board, I smiled coldly. This time, I’d watch from the sidelines and see who that coveted award would truly destroy. 1 “Toby got first place? Isn’t Oliver always the one who aces these things? Could it be true what Toby’s been saying, that Oliver was cheating all this time?” Toby held the printout with his top score high in the air, strutting around like a proud rooster. “Those little quizzes were just warm-ups. A high-level thesis discussion like today’s is what really separates the wheat from the chaff. It seems some people around here rely on cheap tricks to get by!” He shot a contemptuous glare directly at me. Everyone in our two-hundred-person research division knew I was the one who practically lived and died in the lab. This crucial selection was a fluke victory for him, a blind squirrel finding a nut, and he was going to milk it for all it was worth to grind me into the dust. I leaned against the wall, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. “The scores are right there for everyone to see. You can keep barking, but it won’t change the facts.” He bristled as if I’d stepped on his tail, then turned and sagged against Stella’s shoulder, his voice dripping with faux-pity. “Stella, look at him! The way he scoffs at me. I was just having an off-period before, that’s the only reason he ever got ahead!” Stella wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her eyes slicing towards me like shards of ice. “So, you stole Toby’s study materials and still couldn’t manage to take first. Lashing out now that you’re embarrassed, are we? Let’s see how long you can keep playing these dirty, back-alley games.” I raised an eyebrow, catching the flicker of calculation in her eyes. In that instant, it hit me. She’s been reborn, too. Whispers immediately erupted around us. “Oliver stole Toby’s notes? That’s messed up. No wonder Toby was always stuck in second place, he was being sabotaged!” “If someone at Stella’s level is saying it, it must be true. What a scumbag, using tricks like that to get ahead. Makes me sick!” The glares and sharp-edged insults rained down on me, but I didn’t even flinch. I walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, calmly waiting for the Director to arrive and make his selection. In my last life, it was because I’d so spectacularly taken first place that the Director had singled me out, kicking off the nightmare that allowed Stella to destroy my entire family. This time, I had no interest in being the nail that stuck out in this cesspool. When the Director entered with the results sheet, his brow furrowed into a knot. “How is Oliver second? I’ve reviewed his files from the past two years. His performance metrics have consistently been the best in the entire institute.” Toby immediately crossed his arms, sniffing disdainfully. “That’s only because he’s so conniving. He stole my core notes before the exam. Otherwise, first place would have always been mine!” I almost burst out laughing. In all our previous tests, he’d fought tooth and nail just to scrape into the top ten. One lucky break and he was acting like he was the next Einstein. My undisguised smirk infuriated Stella. She shot me a warning glare before turning to the Director, putting on her expert air. “Oliver’s test scores are admittedly good, but that doesn’t mean he has the scientific intuition to handle a project of this caliber.” “Toby and I have worked together in the lab countless times. Our synergy is unmatched. If he’s my partner, I guarantee the project’s progress will double in speed.” She was the lead researcher, handpicked for the project. Her words carried immense weight. It was a blatant power play: choose Toby, or she’d walk. Watching the proud, certain look on her face, so sure the Director would cave, a bottomless, cold amusement filled me. In my last life, our partnership was nothing like the harmonious duo the media portrayed. She barely even bothered to show up at the lab. The all-nighters that left my eyes bloodshot and burning? I pulled every single one of them alone. On the rare occasion she graced the lab with her presence, her only pastime was to stand aside and mock me. “Toby is my true soulmate in science. No one but him will ever touch my core data.” “You schemed your way into his spot, so this is what you get. Let’s see what world-shaking discoveries you can make all on your own.” This time, without me toiling away in the dark for her, I was eager to see what kind of “world-shaking” results she and the useless Toby could possibly produce. The Director, cornered, looked helpless. His gaze shifted between us, finally landing on me with a hint of regret. “But Oliver was the first to discover traces of that rare, harpy-like creature. The higher-ups were actually leaning towards having him lead the subsequent in-depth research.” 2 Stella’s face darkened instantly. The look in her eyes was like a poisoned blade, promising to devour me whole if I dared to nod in agreement. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already decided on a new research direction. And frankly, I have zero interest in partnering with Stella,” I said, cutting off any possibility of negotiation. The Director opened his mouth to try and persuade me, but Stella cut him off harshly. Her jaw twitched, a muscle pulsing in her cheek as she forced a cold laugh. “If he’s going to be so ungrateful, why waste your breath, Director? I wouldn’t want to share a room with a sewer rat who steals from his colleagues anyway.” “A ‘new research direction’… I wonder which poor soul he stole that from.” At that moment, Toby’s sharp eyes landed on the thick stack of files at my side. He gasped, covering his mouth theatrically. “You’re not going to work on the amphibious mutant species, are you? I’ve been the one leading that research! What you’re holding has to be the raw data I spent nights compiling!” “Oliver, have you no shame? Are you going to steal my hard work, too?” I casually flipped through the file, my gaze cold as I stared him down. “Stolen from you? Again? Toby, is it that your brain is so incapable of producing anything of value that you assume every research breakthrough in the world must have been stolen from you?” In all his years at the institute, he hadn’t even managed to win a third-rate regional prize. The jab hit its mark. His eyes reddened, and he shrank behind Stella like a wronged child. “It just looked familiar, I was just saying! I never said for sure that you stole it. Oliver, why do you have to humiliate me like that?” Stella hugged him protectively, patting his back as if soothing a puppy. Her glare at me was murderous. She lunged forward, snatched the file from my hands, and, in front of everyone, ripped it to shreds with a vicious shrrriiip. “It’s just a few scraps of paper! What’s the big deal? I could produce a dozen better proposals for Toby with my eyes closed. You enjoy twisting the knife, don’t you? Waving this in his face just to feel superior?” That was the culmination of six months of fieldwork, countless trips to remote observation sites. In her eyes, it was worth less than a single one of Toby’s crocodile tears. She turned to the Director, her tone an undisguised threat. “Do you see now? Oliver is nothing but a bully who preys on the weak. If the board insists on forcing me to partner with a piece of trash like him, I’ll quit the project altogether!” The Director panicked. The institute couldn’t afford to lose a star like Stella. He quickly capitulated. “Alright, alright! Toby it is. You and Toby will form the special research team.” Toby peeked out from behind Stella’s shoulder, shooting me a look of pure provocation and contempt. I just shrugged, turning to leave the toxic room. “Stop,” Stella’s voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air. She had regained her icy, superior composure. “Now that Toby is my partner, you will vacate your private lab for him. Also, you’ll take over all the menial tasks the Dean assigned him. He needs to be well-rested for the intense research ahead.” The sheer audacity of her gangster-like demands made me laugh. “My private lab was granted to me for winning a national gold medal last year. On what grounds should I give it to him? And why should I be his free labor for the work he’s supposed to do?” In this brutally competitive institute, only top-tier researchers who had won national-level honors or higher were granted a private lab. It wasn’t just about resources; it was a symbol of status. Toby didn’t deserve it. The administration had considered making an exception for him once, pulling strings just for him. But then I won that prestigious gold medal. Stella herself had marched into the Dean’s office and, with a grand gesture, donated a fortune to outfit it with state-of-the-art equipment, turning it into a world-class facility as a “surprise” for me. “Oliver, this is my first big gift to you. Be a good boy, and there’ll be more where that came from.” Those words, once spoken with a mix of pride and tenderness, now dripped with nothing but ice. “I’m the one who funded that lab for you. Now, I’m taking it back. Because you are no longer worthy of it.” That single sentence was a dull, rusty knife carving a bloody, ragged wound in my chest. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the metallic taste of blood that rose in my throat, and answered, word by word. “Fine. The lab is his. But as for the Dean’s assignments, I won’t write a single damn comma for him.” That lab was filled with her presence, with things that were never truly mine. They felt tainted. I was ready to leave it all behind. 3 I scrolled to the very bottom of my contact list, found the number I hadn’t touched in years, took a deep breath, and hit dial. “You once told me you wanted me as your permanent partner. Does that offer still stand?” There was no hesitation on the other end, just a clear, steady female voice. “That spot by my side has always been yours, Oliver. You just had to say the word.” Harper. The genius researcher who had swept countless international awards. In our last life, she had delayed her entire project waiting for me to come to my senses, ultimately costing her that year’s top global prize. This time, we would finally fight side by side. After hanging up, I immediately began the paperwork for a transfer to Munich. As I walked out of the HR office, clutching a thick stack of handover documents, I ran straight into Stella and Toby. Toby’s sharp eyes caught the “Overseas Transfer Application” printed on my folder. He let out an exaggerated, cold laugh. “And here I thought you had some backbone, that you’d actually give up on Stella. Turns out you’re just going to shamelessly follow us abroad? Have you no dignity?” Stella let out a derisive snort, her eyes filled with a lofty pity. “Oliver, why do you insist on torturing yourself? Even if you follow me across the world like a stray dog, I won’t give you a second glance.” I calmly flipped the file over, showing them the name of the receiving party. “I’m going abroad because I’ve found a new partner. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.” When Toby saw the thunderous name on the document—Harper—he froze, then burst into even harsher laughter. “You barely scraped second place in our own institute’s selection, and you think a god-tier researcher like Harper would even look at you? She’s at the absolute pinnacle of our field. You couldn’t come up with a more ridiculous lie if you tried!” Stella, however, stared at the name, her expression shifting like a volatile storm. I had no time for their games and was about to walk around them when Stella grabbed my arm, yanking me into a corner of the hallway. She lowered her voice, her tone laced with fury. “I know you threw the exam to let Toby win. You were trying to get back at me. But changing partners is a massive decision. Why didn’t you report it to me first?” “Go and cancel your application with her right now, before word gets out.” She tilted her chin up, so certain that I was still the puppet who danced on her strings. I wrenched my arm free, finding her entitled expression utterly ridiculous. “And why should I take orders from you?” Her jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with impatience. “Because I’ve already planned it all out. Toby will be my public partner, a face for the media. You will continue to be my shadow partner, working behind the scenes. Isn’t that a perfect solution?” I frowned, unable to process her twisted logic. She looked at me as if I were an imbecile, continuing to explain as if granting me a great favor. “The repetitive, tedious work in the lab is draining. Toby’s a light sleeper as it is; he needs at least twelve hours of rest a day.” “So, you’ll still be the one to handle the heavy lifting, the core data analysis. When the time comes… if we win an award with that data, I’ll speak to the Dean. I’ll have a brand-new lab built just for you as compensation.” Now I understood. She wanted me to sweat and slave away like a mule in a windowless basement, while Toby strutted onto a brightly lit stage in a designer suit to accept the accolades. The sheer audacity was breathtaking. I laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. “Putting someone else’s name on your work is called academic fraud. Do you have the guts to repeat that in the Director’s office?” She was instantly enraged, her eyebrows shooting up as she pointed a finger at my nose, hissing. “Oliver! I’m offering you a way out! You’re the one who started this jealous drama, all to force me to acknowledge you as my partner again, weren’t you?” Seeing the fury and arrogance swirling in her eyes, a chilling coldness crept up my spine. I remembered my past life, how I’d unhesitatingly rejected offers from three of the world’s top labs just to stay by her side. For the crumbs of affection she occasionally threw my way, I worked like a machine devoid of pain, my eyes burning from sleepless nights, secretly fixing God knows how many of Toby’s screw-ups. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms, and stared into her eyes, enunciating each word. “I will never agree.” Her chest heaved with rage. Just as she was about to explode, Toby’s melodramatic sobs echoed from the other end of the hall. Stella’s expression changed in a flash. She hurried over to find Toby crumpled on the floor, clutching a reference book that had been cut to ribbons, crying his eyes out. “Stella, Oliver did this! To get back at me for taking his spot as your partner, he snuck into the lab and destroyed my core reference materials!” Stella pulled him into a tender embrace, her voice soft enough to melt steel. “Don’t cry. I’ll make him pay. I won’t let anyone who bullies you get away with it.” Toby, trembling like a frightened quail in her arms, shook his head theatrically. “Let’s just forget it and go abroad. If we stay under the same roof as Oliver, I’m afraid next time he’ll destroy months of my research.” I watched this pathetic melodrama unfold, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Your mediocre research is hardly worth my effort. Besides, this entire hallway, including the lab, is covered by 360-degree surveillance cameras. We can just pull the footage and see who’s really directing this little play. Or do you prefer to just keep wailing here?” My words only made Toby cry harder. Stella whipped her head around, her eyes promising murder. She snatched the shredded hardcover book from the floor and hurled it at my face. “You commit this disgusting act of revenge against Toby, show no remorse, and then have the audacity to bully him with your words! Oliver, you forced my hand!” The heavy corner of the book struck me right beside my eye. A sharp, piercing pain erupted, and warm blood trickled down my cheekbone. The last trace of expression vanished from my face. My voice was as cold as ice. “You won’t even check the cameras. You condemn me based on his word alone. Stella, have you ever considered that you’re nothing more than a puppet, and he’s the one pulling your strings?” She clenched her fists, roaring like an enraged lioness. “Toby’s heart is as pure as a blank sheet of paper! Even if I willingly let him use me, he would never stoop to something like this! Unlike you, with your mind full of schemes and gutter-water ambition!” Faced with her fury, I simply wiped the blood from my eye, my expression as placid as if I were looking at a stranger. Suddenly, she let out a chilling, eerie laugh and strode into my lab. She grabbed a scalpel from the desk and plunged it violently into the temperature-controlled incubator. The specialized glass casing shattered with a sharp crack. Warm, light-blue nutrient fluid and viscous matter spilled across the table. Those were the rare, thought-to-be-extinct biological specimens I had spent eight years cultivating, poring over ancient texts to bring back from the brink. They were only three days away from hatching. She turned her head, a sick, almost cruel smile on her face. “How does it feel? To have your life’s work destroyed in an instant?! Toby has poured ten times more effort into his research than you ever have, so you deserve to swallow this pain ten times over!” She overturned the entire incubator in a frenzy. The precious eggs rolled across the floor. In her high heels, right in front of me, she brought her foot down, again, and again, grinding them into a stinking, putrid mess. The crowd gathered at the door was dead silent, no one daring to breathe. They were all waiting, waiting to see me collapse to my knees as I had in the past, begging her to stop. But they were disappointed. I simply bent down, expressionless, picked up my scattered transfer documents, and walked away into the deepening night. While waiting in the airport lounge, my phone lit up with a text from a colleague. [Stella says if you come crawling back right now and kneel before the whole institute to apologize to Toby, she might consider asking the Dean to let you stay.] I replied without a moment’s hesitation: [Tell her not to bother. From this day forward, I am done with her, and with this place. Forever.] I turned off the phone, snapped the SIM card in half, and dropped it into a trash can. Boarding pass in hand, I walked onto the flight to Germany without a single look back. As for who would claim that grand international award, she could just watch and see.

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Nineteen again, and I woke up next to Annie Bright. The reckless abandon of last night flooded my mind. In my past life, I married him at twenty-three, becoming the envied Mrs. Bright, the woman who had it all in New York society. When the tabloids caught him with his childhood sweetheart at a hotel, I put on a brave face, smiling and saying I trusted him. When he asked if she could bear his first child, I swallowed my pride, saying it didn’t matter, as long as the child was his. It wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that he held my hand, his voice choked with anguish, asking if I would be his wife again in the next life. All I could think was: I never want a next life. I never thought I’d actually get one. 1 I lost the game and chose “Dare.” Following the gaze of everyone in the room, I stood up, walked over to the boy sitting next to him, and dropped to one knee. “Silas, you’re a god.” Then, I pressed a light kiss to the back of his hand. “Hahahaha!” The room erupted in laughter. Silas’s face turned crimson, and he just sat there, stunned. My best friend, Faye, nudged me with her shoulder. “Did I hear that right, or did you get your wires crossed?” she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I thought you were going to use this chance to finally confess to Annie.” She was right. All our friends knew I’d been crushing on Annie Bright for ages. A dare was the perfect cover. For months, I’d been clawing my way into their elite circle, all for the singular goal of marrying into the Bright family. Tonight’s villa party was a masterpiece of my own design; I’d begged Faye to pull every string she had to get Annie here. The moment I’d arrived, she had pulled me aside, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Annie just got dumped. Get him drunk, take him home. Trust me,” she’d said, “guys are simple. Even if there are no feelings now, there will be after you sleep with him.” In my last life, I did exactly that. And to his credit, Annie was a responsible man. Our messy beginning led to six years of marriage. It wasn’t a whirlwind romance, not some epic love story, but looking back on it sent a shiver of dread down my spine. A cold, deep-seated fear that I never wanted to feel again. This time, I didn’t want to marry him. The game continued around me, a chaotic symphony of laughter and shouting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Annie’s hand, the veins popping as he gripped his glass. He tossed back his drink, and for a fleeting moment, his gaze fell on Silas beside him, a flicker of contempt so subtle it was almost invisible. The party finally wound down around one in the morning. As the crowd thinned, I pulled on my down jacket, ready to leave with my friends. “I’ll drive you,” Annie said, getting to his feet. “It’s snowing out there. It’s not safe for you girls to go alone.” I was about to refuse, but my friends were already cheering. “Wow, thanks, Annie! You’re a lifesaver!” The estate was out in the suburbs. One by one, he dropped my friends off at their apartments until it was just the two of us left in the car. We sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. The car finally pulled up to my building. Just as I was about to get out, he spoke, his voice laced with an unreadable emotion. “Aren’t you going to invite me up?” In my past life, I was the one who asked. I’d invited him up to my apartment, and one reckless, passion-fueled night had led to a lifetime of entanglement. This time, I shook my head. “It’s too late. It wouldn’t be right.” I opened the door and turned to say goodbye, but his hand shot out, clamping around my wrist. I looked back, my eyes meeting his intense, burning gaze. His lips, thin and sensual, curved into a look that was part question, part invitation. “Jess Collins,” he murmured, his voice low. “You’re into me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t just “into.” I had loved him. Deeply. I looked at him, the fresh-faced, nineteen-year-old Annie blurring with the cold, distant twenty-five-year-old from my memories. The past was a phantom, a half-remembered nightmare. I grew up in a single-parent home, molded by my mother from birth to be the perfect trophy wife for a wealthy family. She’d spent a fortune consulting astrologers to pick the perfect C-section date for me, and the ugly scar on her stomach was a permanent reminder of her ambition. When I first learned to speak and called her “Ma,” she corrected me instantly. No, darling. The best families in New York say ‘Mommy’. She rented a tiny apartment for us near the Upper East Side, a place where every plant was positioned according to the advice of some spiritual guru for “good energy.” She worked three jobs to send me to a prestigious prep school, all so I could blend in with the children of the elite. Then, she sent me to study abroad in the UK. “Rich boys don’t talk about Adam and Eve,” she’d said. “They talk about Adam Smith.” So, I got into the Adam Smith Business School, where Annie Bright was my classmate. I aced every course while he partied his way through the semester, never showing up for group projects. Right before finals, he’d shamelessly ask me to reteach him everything the professor had covered. When the results came out, his score was two points higher than mine. He’d grinned, throwing an arm around me. “It’s all thanks to Professor Collins. Let me buy you dinner.” I thought it would be a simple meal, but we ended up eating our way through every Chinese restaurant in Glasgow. My mother had always told me that when a man went out of his way like that, it meant he was interested. I never dared to admit that I was the one who fell first. But Annie had a girlfriend back then, an art student in London. They were childhood sweethearts, a perfect match from two powerful families. “So what?” my mother had scoffed over the phone. “Steal him. Finding a husband is a competition, a war between women. If you marry into the Bright family, I’ll become a vegetarian and pray for your soul every day to build up your good karma.” But marrying into a family like the Brights was never easy. I used every trick in the book to weave myself into his world, finally catching him on the rebound during a break with his girlfriend. During the years we dated, we fought, we broke up, and it was always me who swallowed my pride and went back to him. When his love for me was at its peak, he fought with his family elders for three days and nights, begging them just to meet me. The prim and proper image my mother had so carefully crafted for me over the years was just enough to win their reluctant approval. Our wedding was the event of the season, a staggering eight-million-dollar affair that made headlines everywhere. My mother was ecstatic, praising me for securing both love and money. At the time, I believed it too. A sleazy tabloid reporter, hungry for a headline, wrote a piece about me: Billion-Dollar Gold Digger: From Rags to Riches as a Broodmare for the Elite. Annie saw the article on his phone and immediately made a call. The man on the other end was practically groveling. Annie wrapped his arms around me, holding the phone out to me with a lazy smile. “That phrase I taught you the other day,” he prompted. “Say it again.” I flushed, mortified. “You… you son of a bitch,” I stammered. “My business… is none of your goddamn business.” The words felt alien in my mouth, so contrary to the gentle, well-mannered woman I was supposed to be. My face burned with shame as I forced the sentence out. Annie burst out laughing, clutching his stomach, while the man on the other end of the line apologized profusely. I found out later that the reporter who wrote that story vanished from the New York media scene completely. Memories flooded back, fragmented and bittersweet. In those moments, it felt like maybe, just maybe, Annie and I had really been in love. But I had underestimated the destructive power of a first love. The day Isabelle Monroe came back, I learned that the scorching passion I thought he had for me had never been mine at all. Her flight back to New York was delayed by a category three storm. The paparazzi caught Annie waiting at the airport for her. Three hours late, and he sat there for three hours, not moving an inch. He carried her bags as they checked into a hotel, looking every bit the devoted knight. They didn’t emerge until the next morning. A provocative entertainment reporter shoved a microphone in my face. “Mrs. Bright, sources say Ms. Monroe was camped out in your husband’s hotel room for eight hours. Worried your throne is a little shaky?” I kept my expression neutral, wanting so badly to spit back the words Annie had taught me: Piss off! It’s none of your damn business. He’d even sent me a meme of my favorite actor saying it. But my mother’s voice echoed in my head. A high-society wife is always graceful. No matter what happens behind closed doors, you never lose your composure in public. So I smiled sweetly and said, “I trust my husband.” But trust? That had been eroded away long ago. That New Year’s Eve, Annie brought Isabelle to the Bright family estate for the first time. He had his arm around her waist, ignoring the furious glares from the family elders. “Izzy said our view of the fireworks is the best in the city,” he announced with a careless grin. “I just had to show her.” At that moment, I was with his grandmother and mother in the family chapel, kneeling before the altar. I didn’t dare lift my head. His mother didn’t move either, her chanting just growing a little louder. After dinner, as the annual fireworks display lit up the sky over the harbor, I stepped out of the dining room. In a dark corner of the terrace, I saw Isabelle stand on her tiptoes and kiss Annie. He saw me, his eyes meeting mine over her shoulder. Then, he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and deepened the kiss. It was brazen. Shameless. I froze, my entire world tilting on its axis. When he finally looked back at me, he was still smiling. “Darling,” he said, his voice casual, “do me a favor and tell the family I had to step out for a bit.” It was a holiday. I didn’t want to ruin it for everyone by exposing his recklessness. I made up a simple excuse for the elders. Annie didn’t come home that night. He rarely came home after that. Isabelle wanted to be an actress, so he threw money and connections at her career. He took her to every social event, transforming the bankrupt socialite into a pageant queen. It was as if he couldn’t wait to prove that his hidden love and guilt had never faded. Even so, I maintained the dignity expected of me. If we happened to be at the same event, I would offer a polite nod and a quiet hello. Whenever people in our circle talked about me, it was with a tone of pity. “So what if she married up? Without a child to secure her position, she’ll be divorced sooner or later.” My in-laws, terrified of a scandal tainting the family name, forced Annie to use… certain medical means to ensure I got pregnant. The day he found out, he frowned. “Based on the due date, it’s about two weeks after Izzy’s. I won’t have time to take care of you. I’ll hire you some more nurses.” I rested a hand on my flat stomach, my back straight against the sofa cushions, and smiled. “Of course.” What I wanted to say was, Are you insane? That little tramp is having a bastard child! But I held my tongue. A calm environment was important for the baby. Besides, my position in the Bright family was already precarious. Without this child, Annie really might divorce me. My mother had told me that even if I couldn’t hold onto his heart, having his child would at least secure my status. But it seemed even fate was against me. The child didn’t make it. After the Brights publicly announced my pregnancy, Annie started putting on a “devoted husband” act and spent less time with Isabelle. I heard she threw several tantrums, and he had to shower her with jewelry to pacify her. That, combined with pressure from the Bright elders, finally made her quiet down. But every time I saw her at the private clinic for my check-ups, she’d shoot me a venomous glare before walking away. One day, the doctor confirmed I was having twin girls. Isabelle was having a boy. When she got her results, Isabelle approached me, a first for her. She told me she’d left Annie back then because her family’s problems were too much, and she didn’t want to drag him down. “I regret it,” she said, her voice soft. “I can’t forget him, Jess. I truly love him. If I hadn’t let him go, I would be the one who is Mrs. Bright right now.” “I’m sorry. I never meant to ruin your marriage.” “This is my sincere apology.” “But I can’t stop loving him. And I know he feels the same way about me.” I watched her gently stroke her swollen belly, her eyes filled with a dreamy anticipation. I wanted to slap her, to scream, You are the most shameless mistress in all of New York! But the words died in my throat. I just gave her a dismissive smile. I was Mrs. Bright. I couldn’t stoop to brawling with a mistress in public. If she had any decency, she would have stayed far away from me, not paraded her pregnancy in front of me like a trophy. Her voice was fragile, designed to evoke pity. “If I give Annie the first Bright grandson, do you think he’ll divorce you?” When I didn’t answer, she raised her voice slightly. “You just wanted to marry into a rich family. It didn’t have to be Annie, did it? You had other options.” That was it. I snapped. My hand flew out, the crack of it connecting with her cheek echoing in the quiet hallway. “You’re right,” I spat, my voice trembling with rage. “I would have been fine without Annie. So why don’t you go tell him to divorce me!” She stared at me, her hand pressed to her red cheek. I was just as stunned as she was. Then I saw him. Annie, standing right behind her. He pulled Isabelle behind him, his eyes fixed on me. “What did you just say?” His voice was low and cold, radiating the intimidating aura of a man used to being in control. I looked into his eyes, my hand still tingling, my mind a complete blank. A family like the Brights valued reputation above all else. Even if I was publicly humiliated, I was supposed to remain poised. His gaze was incredulous. “You want to divorce me?” he scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh, Jess. You were the one who schemed and clawed your way into this marriage. And now you want a divorce?” I had nothing left to lose. I found my courage again. “Yes. I want a divorce.” His expression turned to ice. “Forget it. You’re not going anywhere.” “You wanted the title of Mrs. Bright, and I gave it to you.” “Don’t play these games with me to get my attention, and don’t you dare touch Isabelle.” With that, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Isabelle’s ear, then wrapped an arm around her waist and led her away. Every movement was filled with a tenderness I hadn’t felt from him since she had returned. That night, I went to the Bright estate. I knelt in the chapel and bowed three times to the altar. Then, I turned to the family matriarch, Annie’s grandmother, and said with unwavering resolve, “Grandma, I want a divorce.” The old woman continued to finger her prayer beads, her lips moving in a silent chant. She gave me no answer. In the end, I died on the operating table, still married to Annie Bright. Not long after that day at the clinic, Isabelle had a miscarriage. I overheard the household staff gossiping about it. They said that Annie’s grandmother had heard about the pregnancy and sent someone to negotiate with Isabelle. The plan was for her to give birth and let me raise the child. We would tell the world I’d had triplets. Isabelle refused. So the old woman forced her to have an abortion. Annie was convinced that I was the one who had told his grandmother, that I had sicced the family on Isabelle. When he came to see me, his white shirt was stained with blood; he’d just been punished by the family elders. I felt a pang of pity and reached out to treat his wounds, but he grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. “The title of Mrs. Bright will always be yours. What more could you possibly want?” he snarled, his eyes filled with a raw hatred I’d never seen before. “Was it really necessary to push her to the edge like this?” I tried to explain, over and over, that it wasn’t me. But he wouldn’t believe it. Human emotions are never fair. His hatred for me had long since eclipsed whatever shallow love he’d once felt. The Brights blacklisted Isabelle. No entertainment company in the city would touch her. Annie stayed by her side, comforting her day and night. He never came to see me again. By then, I had already made a deal with his grandmother. After the babies were born, I would divorce Annie and leave the Bright family. Someone else could have the damned title. When I told my mother, she screamed at me, a torrent of furious accusations. I stormed out of her apartment, my heart heavy with resentment. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a figure lunged out of the shadows. It was Isabelle. Her face was a twisted mask of rage as she flew at me, her hands closing around my neck. “Jess Collins,” she shrieked, “you killed my baby, you stole my Annie, and now you’ve destroyed my career. I’ll haunt you even after I’m dead. I’ll see you in hell!” Before I could react, her grip tightened. A primal instinct for survival kicked in. I grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Blood streamed from a gash on her forehead. She screamed in pain, her disheveled hair matted with blood and plaster, making her look like a vengeful ghost. In the chaos, she kicked me hard in the stomach. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. The world spun violently, and then, darkness. When I woke up, I was wearing an oxygen mask, each breath a struggle. Annie sat beside me, his face a canvas of pain, his hand gripping mine tightly. “Jess,” he choked out, “in the next life… will you be my wife again?” I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes, letting the darkness take me. And when I opened them again, the villa party was in full swing, music pulsing and lights flashing. Outside, snowflakes drifted down from the night sky. It was the beginning, all over again.

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Returning from a London business trip, I froze at the sight in my living room. My best friend Harper was lounging on my sofa while my boyfriend Sebastian carefully cracked snow crab legs, placing the meat in her bowl. His eyes held a deep, sweet adoration I had never seen him give me. It reminded me of three months ago, when Harper’s cheating ex left her with no alimony. I immediately moved her in, took her on trips, stayed up comforting her, and gave her an unlimited credit card. Whatever it took to make her smile, I did. Sebastian had frowned and complained back then. He mocked her for taking Uber Black everywhere, wearing dresses once before discarding them, and needing her seafood shells cracked. He criticized her for eating only the heart of a watermelon and the tips of strawberries. He even asked if I was her lapdog, saying someone so high maintenance deserved to be left. That was the first time I truly lost my temper with him. I told him Harper was my dearest friend and had always been there for me. I begged him to be patient, if only for my sake. Soon after, I left for London. I video called Harper every day, watching her gradually step out of the shadows. She began job hunting and planning her new life. I really thought everything was getting better. 1 A suffocating, dead silence filled the living room. The only sound was the canned laughter of a reality TV show playing on the flat screen. Harper was the first to react. She scrambled off the sofa, her face draining of all color as she stumbled toward me. “Stella… when did you get back? Why didn’t you text? We… I would have picked you up.” Sebastian stood quietly behind her. He didn’t say a single word. Harper forced a rigid, trembling smile. “You must be exhausted from the flight. Let me get you some water.” She spun around in a blind panic, grabbing a glass from the coffee table. Her hands shook so violently she knocked over the heavy glass pitcher, sending water spilling all over the expensive rug. Sebastian frowned. He immediately grabbed a handful of napkins and knelt to clean up the mess. “Stop trying to help. You don’t know how to do these things.” His tone sounded like a scolding, but the profound, effortless intimacy wrapped in his words was undeniable. The very last shred of naive hope in my chest disintegrated into ash. My grip on my suitcase handle tightened until the leather dug a painful trench into my palm. “When did this start?” Harper froze. She instinctively turned around to look at Sebastian. His expression remained completely stoic. He reached out with a long arm, pulling her safely behind his back. “This has nothing to do with her. It is all on me.” His voice was perfectly level. He sounded like he was discussing the weather. Sebastian was naturally aloof. In the corporate world, he was known for being a cold, ruthless shark. People always whispered that he was completely unapproachable, and that Stella was the only person who could ever pull a real emotion out of him. I used to believe I was his one and only exception. Until this exact second. He was standing on the opposite side of the battlefield, using his trademark coldness to completely sever me from his life. Harper looked frantic. “No… Stella, please listen to me. Let me explain, we aren’t…” I stood rooted to the spot, watching her stammer helplessly, unable to string a single coherent sentence together. A bitter, self-deprecating laugh slipped past my lips. “Can you really not even invent a decent lie to feed me right now?” Harper turned deathly pale. Sebastian firmly grabbed her trembling hands, his voice dropping into a low, soothing register. “Breathe. Let me handle this, okay?” He stepped forward and reached for my suitcase. “Stella, let us step outside to talk.” I stared at his face. Three months. That was all it took for the man I loved to become a complete stranger. I bit the inside of my cheek to fight back the burning tears. My voice wavered. “Sebastian, this is my house. You are asking me to leave?” He paused for a fraction of a second. A hint of pleading crept into his tone. “Stella, please. Do me this favor. She caught a chill yesterday and she is fighting a cold. Let her get to bed early, alright?” I pressed a hand hard against my chest. There was no physical wound, but the agony was so severe I felt like I was bleeding out. Sebastian picked up his designer coat from the back of the dining chair. He turned to Harper, his voice dripping with gentle concern. “Be a good girl and go to sleep. Leave the rest to me. I will stop by the deli on Pearl Avenue and bring you that creamy crab bisque you love on my way back.” I threw the front door open and practically ran out of the house. I couldn’t let them see the pathetic, humiliating tears streaming down my face. Inside a sterile hotel suite an hour later. Sebastian sat on the sofa furthest away from me, maintaining a polite, icy distance. He smoked two cigarettes in total silence before finally speaking. “I take full responsibility. Ask for whatever compensation you want. I will write the check.” “I was the one who caught feelings first. Don’t blame her.” I dug my fingernails mercilessly into my own skin. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Why?” Sebastian lit a third cigarette. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “Stella, you are brilliant. You are calculating, and you are entirely self-sufficient. But Harper is different. If I leave her, she will literally not survive.” Looking at his handsome face illuminated by the glowing cherry of his cigarette, I found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. A few months ago, Sebastian couldn’t stand the sight of my best friend. He called her a toxic drama queen, completely out of touch with reality. He said she was a useless parasite who only knew how to feed off other people’s bank accounts. When I was forced to take the London project three months ago, I practically had to beg him on my knees to occasionally check in on her. He had acted like a stubborn child back then, playfully biting my cheek. “Stella, I haven’t even put a ring on your finger yet, and you already have me doing your family chores. You are dumping a massive headache on my lap. You owe me big time for this.” I had stood on my tiptoes, kissing him softly, promising him that the second this London project wrapped up, we would finally get married. Three months. That was all it took for my entire universe to rot away. 2 Sebastian stood up. He pressed his lips together, his expression complicated. “I know I did you dirty. For the joint development projects we currently share, I will surrender twenty percent of my profits to you. If you ever need a favor in the industry, my door is open.” “But I have one demand. You mean the world to Harper. She does not want to lose you as a friend.” I looked up at him. It felt like I was listening to the punchline of a sick, twisted joke. I actually laughed so hard fresh tears spilled over my eyelashes. Three months ago, I used the exact same excuse to beg him to take care of my best friend. Three months later, I was the one being ordered to tolerate the betrayal so she wouldn’t feel guilty. My voice trembled with raw, unadulterated anger. “Sebastian, do you two honestly not realize how completely psychotic you sound right now?” “What makes you think I deserve to be treated like garbage? I am going to expose every single filthy thing you both did. If you have the guts to screw my best friend, you better have the guts to own it in public.” Sebastian took a step back. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Stella, stop throwing a tantrum. You built your company from the ground up. You crawled through hell to get where you are. Do not ruin your own career over a petty emotional outburst.” The thinly veiled threat in his voice sent a violent chill down my spine. He stood tall, looking down at me with the absolute arrogance of an apex predator. People always told me Sebastian was ruthless and completely devoid of human empathy. I always defended him. Now, staring into his cold eyes, I realized the rumors were perfectly accurate. He just used to reserve all his warmth for me. Now, he was giving it to someone else. “I am heading back. If I am gone too long, she won’t be able to sleep.” “I will pack her things and move her out tomorrow. Sorry to make you sleep in a hotel tonight.” The heavy hotel door clicked shut. I finally collapsed onto the pillows, screaming and crying until my lungs burned. Outside the window, the city lights glittered like diamonds. I had flown thousands of miles, completely exhausted, desperate to sleep in my own bed. Instead, I was discarded in a freezing hotel room. Just a few blocks away, the two most important people in my entire life were tangled in my sheets, sleeping in my bed. It was pure, suffocating irony. The next morning, I put on a pair of oversized sunglasses to hide my swollen eyes. I parked my car outside a trendy artisan bakery downtown. Harper was wearing a cute pastel apron. When she saw me walk through the door, her eyes lit up with hope for a split second, but she quickly lowered her head in shame. She brought a cup of black coffee to my table and sat across from me. She forced a pathetic smile, her voice timid and careful. “Stella, I know you are furious with me. I am so sorry. I know you treated me better than anyone. I owe you my life…” “But look at me now! I have a real job. I promise I will pay you back every single cent I owe you…” I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. I stared at her. She was working as a junior baker, yet she was wearing a Cartier necklace that cost more than this entire storefront. “Pay me back? On a baker’s minimum wage?” Harper flinched. She had married rich right out of college and spent years living as a pampered housewife. Her ex-husband treated her like a princess, catering to her every insane demand. Combined with my unconditional, protective friendship, Harper had cruised through life on easy mode. Until six months ago, when her husband was caught sleeping with his secretary. Within two months, his lawyers legally butchered her. She was kicked to the curb with zero assets. If I hadn’t swooped in to rescue her, she would have literally starved on the streets. She claimed she wanted a fresh start. But after years of being completely detached from the real world, she couldn’t handle a normal corporate job. Because she used to bake cupcakes for fun in her massive suburban kitchen, she somehow landed a job at this high-end bakery. I didn’t say a word. I just raised my hand. The bakery manager immediately rushed over, bowing respectfully. “Ms. Davis, it is an honor to have you visit.” All the blood drained from Harper’s face. Her eyes widened in absolute horror. I took off my sunglasses, my voice dead and hollow. “After your divorce, you were suicidal. You finally told me you wanted a job to feel normal again.” “Harper, you are not stupid. Did you really never wonder why every single place rejected you, but this specific elite bakery miraculously hired a woman with zero professional culinary experience?” “I gave you my entire heart. I funded your life. And this is how you repay me?” Harper’s eyelashes fluttered wildly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice shook violently. “I didn’t know… Stella, I swear I didn’t know…” She lunged across the table, desperately grabbing my hands. “But he is so good to me! He actually loves me! Stella, you are a powerhouse. You are successful, you are beautiful, you can survive without anyone. But I can’t.” “You always told me you would share anything you had with me. I don’t want your money anymore. I just want him. Please, Stella, let me have him.” I sat perfectly still, staring at the woman I had known since we were three years old. A quarter of a century of sisterhood had mutated into something absolutely grotesque. “Growing up, I gave you anything you ever asked for.” “But Harper, taking what isn’t yours behind my back… that makes you a thief.” 3 When Sebastian stormed into the bakery, he found Harper practically kneeling at my feet, sobbing hysterically. His expression turned lethal. He closed the distance in three massive strides, violently pulling her up and shoving her safely behind him. He glared at me, his jaw clenched tight enough to shatter teeth. “Stella, I told you to come at me. Stop terrorizing her.” “Add up every single dollar she spent on your credit cards. Give me the final number, and I will wire it to your account right now.” I looked at him, letting out a barrage of cold, bitter laughter. “Wow. It must be nice to throw your money around, Sebastian. But the debt you two owe me can’t be paid off in this lifetime.” Sebastian’s eyes darkened. He opened his mouth to fire back a vicious insult. Suddenly, Harper screamed at the top of her lungs. “Enough!” Her entire body was shaking, but she forced herself to look me in the eye. “Stella, this is what you owe me. I don’t care if you resent me or hate my guts. I am not letting him go. From this day forward, our friendship is officially dead. We are even.” She ripped off her pastel apron, grabbed Sebastian’s hand, and dragged him toward the door. They walked out without looking back. I sat alone by the window. Outside on the sidewalk, two teenage girls in high school uniforms were laughing brightly, sharing a single ice cream cone. I felt something cold drop onto my hand. I reached up and realized my face was completely soaked with tears. Harper and I had known each other since preschool. We were inseparable through elementary, middle, high school, and college. As far back as I could remember, my parents did nothing but scream and throw things at each other. They only stayed married because neither of them wanted the burden of keeping a child. Every time they destroyed our living room in a screaming match, Harper would quietly slip through the front door. She would help me sweep up the broken glass, grab my hand, and drag me to her house for dinner. The year we graduated high school, Harper secretly pawned her grandmother’s vintage gold locket to pay my college tuition. I remember her licking an ice cream cone, acting like it was no big deal. “Hey, my grades are garbage anyway. But you are a genius. It would be a crime if you didn’t go to a top university.” “Stop crying, Stella. I know you are going to be a massive CEO one day. When you strike it rich, just buy me ten Cartier bracelets to make up for it.” In the dark, lonely years of my youth, Harper was my very first hero. She was the most important piece of my soul. By the time I drove back to my house, every trace of them had been scrubbed clean. I stood in the center of the massive, empty living room, feeling completely untethered. When I first bought this multi-million dollar property, I specifically reserved a master guest suite entirely for Harper. Sebastian had been incredibly annoyed about it. I just smiled at him and told him it was a promise I made a long time ago. At Harper’s wedding, I was her Maid of Honor. When I caught the bouquet, I hugged her tight and swore that as long as I was breathing, she would always have a home with me. Now, I was the one left without a home. The house was still haunted by the things Sebastian left behind. Our framed certificates from university business competitions. Photos from our vacations to the Amalfi Coast. His toothbrush sitting in the master bathroom. The cashmere blanket he left tangled on the sofa, and a half-read novel resting on the coffee table. Every time I closed my eyes, my brain forced me to visualize the two of them rolling around together on that very sofa. I slapped a hand over my mouth, sprinting to the bathroom sink. I dry-heaved violently until my throat bled, feeling like I needed to vomit my own organs out to feel clean again. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. I looked haggard and completely unrecognizable. Sebastian was my senior in college. We were partners in the national startup championship. The night he confessed his feelings to me, his usually icy face was flushed red. “Stella, you are the most brilliant, resilient woman I have ever met. Please give me the honor of taking care of you.” After graduation, I gained experience at a tech giant before catching a market trend and launching my own firm. Sebastian was my rock. He guided me through the darkest days of the startup grind. He was my partner in battle, and the love of my life. Because of him, I actually started healing from my childhood trauma. I started believing that I could actually build a healthy family. I truly planned to spend the rest of my life with him. I stared into the mirror, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. They were the reasons I wanted to live. They were the ultimate goals of all my blood, sweat, and tears. And they rewarded me by driving a knife directly into my spine. Why should they get away with this? I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a very long time. 4 Three days after I made that phone call, Sebastian barged into my executive office. He slammed the heavy glass door so hard the walls vibrated. “Stella, did you call Harper’s parents?!” “Her mother called her last night and screamed at her for a solid hour! She called Harper an ungrateful snake and said she was dead to the family! Harper cried so hard she almost passed out. Are you happy now?!” I let out a sharp laugh. “If you two had the guts to do it, why are you so terrified of people finding out?” But beneath my cold exterior, a sharp ache hit my chest. I never forgot how kind the Davis family was to me when I was a neglected kid. When my company took off, I repaid their kindness ten times over. I bought them cars and paid for their luxury vacations. Mrs. Davis had called me in tears, apologizing profusely for her daughter’s sins. Yet the person who actually owed me an apology hadn’t offered a single word of remorse. Sebastian took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Stella, this is your absolute last warning. You are going to march over there and apologize to Harper right now. If you do, I will pretend this entire incident never happened.” I looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Apologize? I am pretty sure I am the last person in this room who needs to apologize.” His face hardened into pure ice. “Starting today, I am permanently terminating all corporate partnerships with your firm. You are currently leading the Eastside Development project. The primary investors happen to be my people. You know perfectly well that without my backing, that project will implode.” “I am giving you three days to think this over. Stella, you have been a brilliant strategist your entire life. Do not commit professional suicide over petty jealousy.” Hearing his chilling ultimatum, the very last trace of affection I held for him vanished. When Sebastian loved someone, he would lay the entire world at their feet. But the second he turned on you, he was a merciless monster. He stayed true to his threat. Overnight, the Eastside investors pulled their funding. The project ground to a halt, and panic spread through my company like wildfire. But I refused to beg. Ten years ago, I was a broke orphan who bit down on my own tongue and clawed my way to the top of the food chain. Ten years later, I could easily carve a bloody path out of this mess on my own. A month later, I received a text from Harper. [Stella, Sebastian and I are getting married next month. You are the most important person in my life. I want your blessing. I know I betrayed you, but please, just this one last time. Can you forgive me?] I glanced at the message, locked my phone, and went back to my boardroom meeting. I didn’t reply. On the day of their wedding, I arrived exactly on time. Harper looked like a delicate little bird, clinging tightly to Sebastian’s arm. Her eyes were swimming with toxic, artificial sweetness. The moment they saw me walking down the aisle, the color drained from both of their faces. The crowded ballroom fell completely silent. My high-profile relationship with the ruthless Sebastian Lockwood was common knowledge in our elite circle. Yet somehow, within six months, the bride had miraculously changed. Sebastian instinctively stepped in front of Harper, staring at me with hyper-vigilant hostility. Harper looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “Stella… I…” I looked at the two of them and offered a bright, serene smile. “Relax. I promised you years ago that I would never miss the most important day of your life.” “I am just here to drop off my wedding gift.” Behind them, the massive screen playing their sickly sweet wedding montage suddenly went pitch black.

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1 Emma Warren was the hottest A-list celebrity in Hollywood. Few knew that her manager, the man her fans relentlessly cursed as a “deadbeat,” was her first love, the one who’d been by her side every step of the way. I’d been savaged by her fans for five years; they’d Photoshopped hundreds, even thousands, of obituaries for me. To all of it, Emma had only one response: “Just bear with me a little longer. I can’t have my relationship exposed right now.” Yet, the same Emma, who preached about protecting her image, turned around and secretly agreed to a PR stunt with a new actor, a “couple” reality show, all behind my back. She offered no explanation, merely looking at me with weary eyes, asking me to understand, not to make a fuss. But she didn’t know; I wasn’t planning on making a fuss. I was busy picking out the best Photoshopped obituary from those thousands. After the show wrapped, she and her fake boyfriend walked arm-in-arm, giving interviews to the media. A reporter asked, “What are your thoughts on your former manager’s sudden passing?” … Emma Warren had severe allergies. So every time she went on a reality show. I was always the most anxious one. I sat on the carpet, my eyes scanning the checklist, making a final confirmation. “Your allergy medication is in the zippered pocket. Your usual eye drops are right next to it. It might get cold in the mountains at night, so your jacket is in the right corner. And…” Emma leaned silently on the sofa, tapping her phone screen, her brow unfurrowed. My voice had probably become irrelevant background noise. She waited for me to finish my lengthy monologue, then lazily lifted her eyelids to glance at me. “Got it. The production team will prepare these things. You don’t need to bother.” “And I’m not going on some wilderness survival show.” I fell silent, my hands, which had been neatly arranging the suitcase, suddenly stilled. Right. I’d almost forgotten. She was going on a sweet dating reality show. This show was custom-made for the hottest celebrity “couples” of the moment, with unprecedented hype. A few seconds later, I lowered my eyes, smiling faintly. I folded the densely written checklist in half, then in half again, tucking it into the side pocket of the suitcase. “Okay, I won’t say more.” Emma looked satisfied. She grabbed the baseball cap from the sofa, put it on, and was about to leave. Her assistant scurried over and took the suitcase from my hand. “Julian.” I called out to her. She turned, her brows almost imperceptibly furrowing. She probably thought I was about to nag her again about carrying an umbrella for rain, or reapplying sunscreen. Or perhaps, that question I’d asked a thousand times: When can we go public? Sunlight poured in from the open door, bathing her in a dazzling but ethereal golden glow. I felt a little dizzy watching her, my eyes stinging. “Emma, if this is my last day as your manager, what… what would you think?” She froze, her eyes beneath the brim of her cap staring at me unblinkingly for several seconds. A celebrity’s eyes can look soulful even when gazing at a dog. For a moment, I almost believed the Emma before me was the Emma from ten years ago, who only loved me. It made me want to bury my head in the crook of her neck, To tell her I was sick, that I was scared. But not until my eyelashes were truly wet with tears. Only then did Emma slowly pull the corners of her lips into a faint smile, and give me a hug. “Julian, stop being dramatic! You know I’d only be happy for you. After all, you’ve worked so hard these past few years, haven’t you?” She sounded genuinely happy, her voice significantly softer. “I’ll bring you a leaving gift. Just wait for me at home, okay?” Thump. I watched her back disappear from my sight, quietly, as I had countless times before. From sixteen to twenty-nine, I had waited obediently for her for over a decade. I truly couldn’t wait anymore. I walked to the coffee table, picked up my phone, and sent the message I had already drafted. “After amicable discussion, I am no longer serving as Emma Warren’s manager, effective immediately. Thank you for the past, and I wish you a bright future.” The moment the message went out, my phone’s notifications began to erupt. I didn’t click on the details. But even without opening them, I could imagine the frenzy below. I refreshed, and a few top comments automatically popped up. “Universal celebration!!! Today is a good day! Our girl finally broke free from that controlling old man!” “Ahhh, my darling’s career is now smooth sailing! No more pervert staring at you like a hawk!” “Heaven has eyes! This old man was always telling her what to do. Emma must have tolerated this creep for too long. Tonight, we must do a giveaway!” The screen’s light reflected on my face, highlighting my red-rimmed eyes. I silently submitted the request to deactivate my account. My decade. A stubborn and ridiculous decade. It was over. 2 I had a tumor in my brain. The day I was diagnosed, I hunched alone in the hospital corridor for a long time. Fear surged like a tide. Almost instinctively, I called Emma, my hand trembling. I wanted to tell her the doctor said I only had three months left. I wanted to say I was so scared, that I was still so young, and I didn’t want to die. But before I could even speak, Emma’s graver voice interrupted me. “I’m doing a fake relationship with Xander Knight for a reality show.” “Julian, you’ve controlled my entire career for over a decade. Don’t stop me this time, okay?” Emma’s calm insistence on the other end of the phone made my silence and despair feel utterly out of place. I opened my mouth blankly, all my words crushed between my lips. Control? I understood her ideals and ambitions, So I tried my best to protect her from potential exploitation. She used to always cling to my arm, saying she was lucky to have me. But now, all that had become “control”? Two weeks ago, Emma and I had a huge fight about her fake relationship with Xander. The public relationship I wanted, I’d waited over a decade for, because of her plea to protect her image. But in the end, I was waiting for her to fake a relationship with another male celebrity. In a fit of anger, I broke up with her. I still remember the look in Emma’s eyes that day. It was angry, scrutinizing, and tinged with a coldness. She had pushed hard against my chest, gritting her teeth and saying: “Julian, have you thrown enough tantrums? How do you think you got everything you have now? Without me, what are you?” “Do you actually see me as your girlfriend? Or just a piece of art to satisfy your vanity?” That sentence was like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing all my hopes. I never knew that my desperate efforts to secure business deals and resources for her, In her eyes, had become “control” and “vanity”! And at this moment, Emma’s voice rang out again from the phone, “So, is there something you called for? If not, I’m hanging up. Xander is waiting for me to discuss the show.” What else could I say? Congratulate her on going to “date” someone else, while her boyfriend was dying? I silently hung up the phone. That day, I sat alone in the hospital corridor for a long time. Lonely and desperate. I didn’t want to spend my last days in a hospital. So I bought a plane ticket to the Alps. It was a place I’d always wanted to visit. And a place Emma had promised countless times to visit with me. Unfortunately, every time we planned a trip over the years, something always came up to disrupt it. Later, I thought this was probably fate’s way of telling me. Emma and I were never meant to be. It was pouring rain in Geneva. Perhaps I got a little wet while out exploring, because the next day I developed a high fever. I dragged my heavy body to a pharmacy to buy fever medicine. By the counter, near me, were two young girls, squealing at their phones. “Ah, Emma Warren is so beautiful! She and Xander Knight are perfect together!” “Yeah, yeah, handsome guy and beautiful girl, they must be real! Just look at the way Emma looks at him!” The sudden mention of Emma’s name made me pause. But then I instinctively pulled my cap lower, just wanting to pay and leave quickly. Perhaps my overly deliberate avoidance drew attention, because the chattering behind me paused. “…Hey, look at that guy. Doesn’t he look like…” My spine stiffened, my fingers clenching inside my sleeve. Before I could walk away quickly, two student-aged girls had circled around to face me, their eyes astonishingly bright. “It really is you!” The short-haired girl exclaimed, excited, nudging her taller friend. I took a breath, forcing a smile: “I’m no longer Emma Warren’s manager.” “We know! Our fan groups are all celebrating! Today’s a holiday!” The short-haired girl spoke quickly, her eyes glinting with an insistent gleam: “Hey, perfect! There’s a coffee shop nearby. The latest episode of ‘Seven-Day Lovers’ just aired. Emma and Xander’s interactions are super sweet! Let’s watch it together!” The invitation was full of malice and a desire to see me squirm. During my years as Emma’s manager, the biggest rumor about me was that I was overly possessive, Shamelessly treating Emma as my own girlfriend. Looking at the smug, youthful faces, determined to stir up some drama, I let out an absurd laugh. “Sure.” I also wanted to see what my girlfriend looked like when she was “dating” someone else. 3 In a corner of the coffee shop, the reality show was streaming on a tablet. The scene showed Emma taking a bite out of Xander’s half-eaten tart. Watching Xander’s helpless expression, Emma smiled brightly. Xander looked at the laughing Emma, shaking his head with an air of resignation. They exchanged glances, and it seemed like pink bubbles were floating in the air between them. “They’re a perfect match!” the tall girl shrieked, cupping her face. The short-haired girl glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, deliberately asking loudly: “Hey, what do you think? Are they super compatible? Everyone online says they’re the best couple of the year!” I saw that Xander had already taken a bite of that tart, and I saw the way Emma looked at Xander. I knew her too well, so I knew it wasn’t all acting. At least, when the two of us first started out and only had enough money for one bowl of ramen, Emma wouldn’t have eaten from the same bowl as me. At least, she could always deduce his favorite music and food from the smallest clues in Xander’s social media. And me, I was right in front of her. Yet she never noticed my increasingly pale complexion, or the frequent nosebleeds. She never noticed the painkillers scattered around the house, nor did she realize I spent night after night beside her, in too much pain to sleep. A part of my heart felt like it was pricked with a fine needle, a dense, aching soreness spreading through me. But I just froze for a few seconds, then offered a genuinely heartfelt smile: “Yes, they really are a perfect match.” My reaction clearly caught them off guard. After all, for years, tabloid headlines had always featured reports of me scowling at Emma interacting with other male celebrities. They exchanged a disgruntled glance, then the short-haired girl suddenly remembered something and leaned closer to me: “Hey, we once heard a fan account say that backstage, you slapped Emma. Is that true or false?” Her words made my body jolt, my head swimming. That was in the third year of our careers, when I was caught by paparazzi delivering a Valentine’s Day gift to Emma. This led to massive online abuse from Emma’s fans. They called me disgusting and a pervert, claiming I was obsessed with my own artist. Almost every day, I’d wake up to hundreds of Photoshopped obituaries and hateful comments flooding my DMs and comment sections. Those days, Emma was like a powder keg, but her eyes held a mix of pain and concern for me. In the dressing room, she looked at my face and seriously said she wanted to quit the industry, that she couldn’t bear to see me treated that way. Emma’s eyes were terrifyingly red. She wouldn’t listen to anything I said, stubbornly insisting she would announce her retirement. Finally, I slapped her across the face. “If you quit, then all these years of me being cursed at will have been for nothing!” “Do you remember what you told me back then, that you would fight your way to the top?” Emma’s head was turned by my slap, but she eventually burrowed fiercely into my arms. Her tears fell onto my neck, as hot and passionate as her sincerity then. “Julian, wait for me. I’ll take you to the highest place.” The girls’ insistent voices, urging me for an answer, became distant and blurred. “Hey, say something!” “Why did you do it?” Yes, why? Why do people’s feelings change so suddenly? “I…” A broken syllable squeezed from my throat, and then my world plunged into complete darkness. The smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils. I struggled to open my eyes. “He’s awake!” The short-haired girl scurried over, looking relieved. “Are you okay? The doctor said you almost burned up with fever.” I gave a weak smile, looking at their bewildered faces, wanting to say something. Just then, the TV screen in the corner of the room flickered, showing the backstage interview segment of “Seven-Day Lovers.” “So, Emma, having worked with so many excellent male co-stars, what is your ideal type like?” I turned my head to look at Emma, elegant and refined on the TV screen, and my heart skipped a beat. “Hmm… I like someone lively and cheerful, like a little sun. It’s perfectly fine if they’re a bit clingy; it’s cute. Preferably not like a nagging parent, telling me what to do all the time, not too rigid, and not too materialistic…” Every word was like a tiny hammer, gently tapping my heart. Lively, a little sun, clingy. She was describing the Julian of ten years ago, the naive Julian who scraped by with her in a basement apartment. Controlling, mature, materialistic. She hated the Julian of ten years later, the Julian who had endured multiple online attacks and finally learned to be cautious with his words and actions. I let out an absurd laugh, my eyes burning and dry, but not a single tear fell. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at the two girls by the bed, their expressions complex. My voice was hoarse as I said: “Please, don’t tell anyone that I fainted today.” The two girls were obedient; they didn’t mention my illness. But they did upload a secretly filmed video of me saying Emma and Xander were a good match to the internet. Emma called me. But her very first words caught me off guard.

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My wife and I had been married for three years. After desperately trying, we finally learned we were expecting twins. Overjoyed, I was about to share the news when I found an appointment slip for an abortion clinic hidden in her drawer. Confronted, she broke down crying and confessed: Mr. Shaw, an uncle-like figure, was dying of cancer, and his only wish was for his son Tristan to continue the family line. I pleaded with her not to end the pregnancy. Even friends and family tried to reason with her. But she stubbornly insisted, asking if I could let an old man die with regrets. She accused me of controlling her body and reminded me how her family had supported me all these years. Seeing her self-righteous expression, my heart broke. The face I once loved now felt cold and strange. As a last compromise, I offered to let her keep our twins and later be a surrogate for Tristan through IVF. In response, she removed her wedding ring, dropped it on the table, and said she owed Tristan—who’d once saved her life—too much to let his family die out. She stated she wasn’t asking for my permission, only informing me. My fists slowly unclenched, my palms marked with bloody crescents from my nails. In that moment, all my love for her vanished. I looked her in the eye and said, “I want a divorce.” 1 The entire room froze. Serena stopped dead in the doorway. She turned around slowly, her eyes wide with absolute disbelief. “What did you just say? Divorce?” Before I could even open my mouth to reply, my father stormed across the room. He raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap across my jaw. “Can’t you talk things out like an adult? Throwing the word divorce around like that, are you even a man?” The relatives rushed forward to hold back my furious father. A swarm of buzzing voices filled my ears, everyone telling me to calm down and compromise. Serena frowned, looking at me with pure irritation. “Rowan, you are thirty two years old. Why are you acting like a petulant child?” “Tristan is six years younger than you, yet he thinks about the bigger picture. This IVF decision was made after careful consideration.” “Tristan already promised. Once he fulfills his father’s dying wish, he will give the child to us. You can be the father. Tristan is perfectly willing to help us raise this baby without any complaints.” Serena listed her reasons with absolute entitlement, her tone dripping with disappointment at my supposed narrow mindedness. Her words hit me like a tidal wave of pure agony. So I didn’t deserve my own flesh and blood. Raising another man’s child was supposed to be a gracious charity bestowed upon me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Ten years ago, I was the target of vicious bullying in college. Serena, our class president, was the one who stood up for me. She stood at the podium, fiercely ripping into those rich kids, exposing their fake generational wealth. After that, she used study groups and tutoring sessions as an excuse to slip me generous amounts of cash to help me survive. Back then, she was the sun breaking through my dark clouds. She was the only reason I managed to graduate. I thought we were just intersecting lines, destined to drift apart after college. But the year we graduated, the Lockwood family was hit with a massive smuggling scandal. All their assets were frozen, and Serena’s father died mysteriously in prison. Serena was left with a mountain of debt, chased and beaten by loan sharks. Without a second thought, I abandoned my corporate job offer at a Fortune 500 company to stay by her side. We spent three grueling years digging up evidence to prove a corrupt vice president had framed her father. We spent another seven years rebuilding Lockwood Enterprises from the ground up. I swallowed my pride. I begged former tech leads to return. I drank myself into the hospital at business dinners just to secure the contracts that kept her company afloat. Back when the loan sharks cornered us in an alley, I used my own body as a human shield for her. They broke three of my ribs and delivered a brutal beating that permanently damaged my fertility. When the doctors delivered the devastating news, Serena held me and wept bitterly. She swore she would never leave me. I refused to give up. Once the company stabilized, I underwent years of agonizing medical treatments. Three years ago, the doctors finally told me my condition had improved. We started trying for a baby. The day we found out she was pregnant with twins, I stayed awake all night, holding her in my arms, crying tears of absolute joy. Now, looking at the cold determination in her eyes, my gaze drifted down to her stomach. The memories of our happiest moments twisted into a poisoned blade, plunging directly into the softest part of my heart. I opened my mouth to speak, only realizing then that my face was drenched in tears. My voice came out as a broken rasp. “Serena, I waited ten years for those babies. How can you be so utterly heartless?” Seeing my devastation, a brief flicker of guilt crossed her face. “I am sorry, Rowan. But I have to do this for Tristan. I can’t let him live with this regret forever.” “Besides, your genetics aren’t exactly perfect anymore. Even if I carried these twins to term, they might have health issues.” “Tristan is young and athletic. If I give birth to a highly intelligent, healthy baby, you will get to raise a superior son.” I let out a hollow, agonizing laugh. “Serena. So in your eyes, I am just a cripple. And my children would just be cripples too.” “If this was really just about giving him a child, we could have paid a surrogate. Why did you have to kill my babies? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?” Serena’s face flushed crimson. Her voice pitched into a defensive shriek. “Rowan, how can you say something so disgusting? Tristan’s child isn’t something just anyone is worthy of carrying!” “I told you, this is strictly a favor for Tristan! When I am on that operating table, I will be thinking of you!” The relatives in the room awkwardly turned their heads, coughing into their hands. One by one, they muttered weak excuses and shuffled out the front door. “Rowan, I know you are upset, but Serena is thinking about the future. A superior baby will eventually take over Lockwood Enterprises. Just think it over.” With that final piece of unsolicited advice, the door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the sofa, letting the suffocating darkness swallow me whole. Later that afternoon, a mutual friend texted me an update. Serena had gone to the clinic. Tristan was tenderly supporting her as she walked out of the recovery room. He was spoon feeding her hot chicken soup. Serena leaned happily against his chest, her face pale but glowing with contentment as she sipped from the spoon. The attached photo of the finalized abortion paperwork burned my eyes. My heart plummeted into an absolute, freezing void. I had endured years of mockery and swallowed endless suffering to protect her, but in the end, I couldn’t even protect my own unborn children. My soul felt entirely hollow. I pulled out my phone and made a single call. “Mr. Caldwell. I accept your offer to head the overseas expansion. I am leaving, and I am never coming back.” I packed a single suitcase, printed the divorce papers, and drove straight to the hospital. When I pushed the door open, Tristan was lounging on the hospital bed, holding Serena in his arms. Their bright smiles instantly vanished. I felt no rage. I felt no need to scream. I simply walked over and handed the divorce agreement to Serena. “Sign it.” Serena’s hands trembled. She stared at the bold letters at the top of the page, her eyes slowly pooling with tears. “Rowan, are you actually serious?” Her shock quickly melted into defensive anger. “We built an empire together over the last ten years, and you are throwing it away like a joke? Why can’t you just try to understand me?” She ripped the papers into shreds and threw the confetti violently into my face. I watched with dead eyes as the tears spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face into Tristan’s chest, sobbing like she was the victim. “You have no conscience, Rowan! I elevated you from a penniless loser to the Vice President of my company. I gave you all my love, and you want to abandon me?” “Am I really less important to you than a fetus? Was everything you ever promised me a lie?” I looked at her and smiled a cold, chilling smile. The principled, bright girl I fell in love with was completely gone. I noticed her eyes constantly darting toward me. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was waiting for me to cave. She was waiting for me to comfort her. In the past, the second she frowned, I would blame myself for failing to protect her and do whatever it took to make her smile again. This time, I just calmly reached into my briefcase, pulled out a second copy of the divorce agreement, and placed it on her lap. “Sign it.” Serena completely lost her mind. Tears streamed down her face as she screamed. “You bastard! Are you trying to drive me to my death?!” Before I could react, Tristan lunged off the bed. He swung his fist, catching me right on the cheekbone. “You piece of trash! How dare you treat Serena like this? You are a pathetic cripple living off her charity. You have no right to demand a divorce!” “Serena fed you, clothed you, and gave you a life of luxury. You ungrateful parasite!” I crashed hard onto the linoleum floor. Tristan scrambled on top of me, grabbing my hair and delivering vicious slaps across my face. He pounded his fists into my skull. Blood poured from my nose and mouth. My vision swam with a violent red haze. Through the blinding pain, my hand brushed against the leg of a metal stool. I grabbed it and swung it blindly into Tristan’s head. He let out a pathetic yelp, clutching his bleeding scalp as he rolled onto the floor. I forced myself up, preparing to kick him away. Suddenly, a heavy metal food tray slammed directly into the side of my head. The world spun. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Serena’s furious scream. “Rowan! You are a monster! How could you hit him?!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Serena shoved me aside. Completely ignoring her own post operative weakness, she dropped to her knees and pulled Tristan into her arms. “Tristan, are you okay? Are you dizzy? Let me get the doctor.” She helped him up and practically carried him out the door. She didn’t look back at me once. I swayed on my feet before my vision faded to black. I woke up to the sharp sting of a needle. An emergency room doctor was injecting local anesthesia into my scalp. “Sir, you took a severe beating to the head. I am stitching the lacerations now, but you need an immediate CT scan.” I shook my head, refusing the scan. The doctor immediately lost his temper. “You are too young to be throwing your life away. You have five deep lacerations on your skull. If you have internal bleeding, you will be dead before you can regret it.” He shoved the imaging requisition forms into my hand. Defeated, I took the papers and walked toward the radiology department. Just as I reached the waiting area, Serena walked out of the double doors, holding Tristan up. The moment she saw me, her face contorted with rage. She marched over and slapped me across the face. “Rowan, you make me sick.” “I just had surgery, and you show up to my room demanding a divorce. Tristan was just trying to protect me, and you smashed a stool into his head.” “As my husband, you refused to take care of me, and you tried to murder the man who did. Do you want me to die?!” The patients and family members waiting in the hallway immediately turned their attention to us. Hearing Serena’s dramatic accusations, the crowd began whispering fiercely, shooting me looks of pure disgust. “Wow, what a piece of work. Refusing to take care of his wife after a miscarriage, and throwing a tantrum when someone else does. If he was my husband, I would put him in the ground.” “He deserves worse. Beating people up in a hospital? Call the cops. Throw this psycho behind bars.” Tristan leaned heavily against Serena’s shoulder, playing the frail victim perfectly. “Serena, I feel dizzy. Please don’t be mad at him on my account.” “He just wanted to use those babies to secure his control over Lockwood Enterprises. That’s the only reason he cared so much about those defective kids.” My blood boiled over. I threw my medical papers aside and drove my fist straight into Tristan’s chest. “You son of a bitch. Say the word defective one more time.” My heart physically ached. Those poor, innocent babies I had prayed for every single night. They were gone. And they were never defective. Tristan collapsed onto the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head. Serena let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Tristan! What is happening?! Don’t scare me!” She glared up at me, her eyes bloodshot with hatred. “Rowan! If he dies, I swear to God I will end you!” The crowd was fully riled up now. “This is assault! He is completely unhinged!” “Call the police right now! Keep this animal away from society!” A flicker of hesitation crossed Serena’s eyes as she looked down at Tristan. Right on cue, Tristan dramatically fluttered his eyes open. He let out a weak, theatrical cough. “Serena, you just had surgery. Please don’t stress yourself out. I can take a few punches.” He looked up at me with fake terror. “Rowan, it is all my fault. I apologize. Please, just promise you won’t beat me every time you see me.” “If you kill me, it will ruin Serena’s reputation.” Serena’s expression hardened into absolute stone. She gritted her teeth. “Rowan, I have spoiled you for far too long. I let you forget your place. It is time you learned a lesson.” She pulled out her phone and dialed the police. The cops arrived in minutes. Tristan was still clinging to Serena, gasping for air. “We got a call about a public assault. Who is the aggressor?” Serena straightened her back, pointing an accusing finger right at my chest. “Officers, it is him. He brutally attacked my friend unprovoked. Please arrest him.” She looked like a righteous hero fighting against absolute evil. The crowd eagerly chimed in, serving as her witnesses. “We saw everything! His wife lost her baby, and he showed up to cause a scene and put her friend in the hospital.” “Lock him up, officer! Men like that are a danger to society.” I had no defense. My words meant nothing against a dozen witnesses. I just stared at Serena with hollow, dead eyes as the officer locked the cold steel cuffs around my wrists. An hour later, we were sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct. I calmly explained the entire situation to the detective. I told him Tristan threw the first punch. The detective looked at me with deep sympathy, but he sighed heavily. “I hear you, man. But regardless of the history, you hitting him in the hallway is caught on camera. Abortion and infidelity are moral issues. Assault is a felony.” Tristan sat across the room, holding an ice pack to his head. “Officer, let us just drop it. A verbal warning is fine. I don’t want to press charges.” Serena immediately slammed her hand on the table. “Absolutely not! Officer, you must press charges. He needs to serve jail time. If he doesn’t learn his lesson, he will only get more violent.” The detective looked at Serena, clearly bewildered by her venom. “Ms. Lockwood. Rowan is your legal husband. If you push this, he will go to prison. He will have a permanent criminal record. It will ruin his life. Are you absolutely certain?” Serena kept her chin high, her eyes freezing cold. “I am certain. Unless he gets on his knees, apologizes to Tristan, and swears he will never lay a hand on him again.” I looked at her unwavering conviction and actually let out a laugh. “Serena. You want me to get on my knees and apologize to the man sleeping with my wife?” Serena slammed the table again. “Watch your mouth! Tristan is not a homewrecker! You are projecting your own filthy thoughts onto innocent people. He is my savior’s son. He is family.” I kept smiling, a cold, bitter smile. “Stop pretending, Serena. I am not an idiot. The way you look at him says it all.” “I am not apologizing. I did not betray our marriage. You did.” Serena went dead silent for a moment. “Fine. Then enjoy your time in a prison cell.” A younger officer grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the hallway. “Mr. Davies. I worked security at your charity gala last year. I know you are a good man, and I know you are getting screwed here. But you can’t let your pride ruin your life. If you don’t settle this, you are going to federal prison.” He leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Listen to me. That pretty boy in there has connections. If you go inside, he will make sure you don’t come out breathing. Think about it.” A chill ran down my spine. Tristan was absolutely capable of arranging an accident behind bars. And with Serena protecting him, no one would ever investigate my death. I took a deep breath, swallowed the last shred of my dignity, and walked back into the room. I lowered my head. Before I could even speak, Serena crossed her arms. “If you want to prove you are actually sorry, kneel. Bow your head and swear that if you ever target Tristan again, you will die a miserable death.” A physical pain sliced through my chest. I stared at her, completely stunned. For the sake of another man, she was forcing her husband to kneel and curse his own life. Time seemed to stand still. Tristan leaned against Serena’s shoulder, shooting me a look of triumphant mockery. The sympathetic officer nudged my shoulder. “A real man knows when to bow his head. Just say it.” Gritting my teeth until I tasted blood, I forced the words out, syllable by syllable. “I am sorry. It was my fault. I swear I will never lay a hand on Tristan Shaw again. If I break this promise, may I die a miserable death.” A satisfied smile spread across Serena’s face. “Rowan, I knew you wouldn’t make things difficult. Realizing your mistakes is the first step.” “Go back to the office. I am taking Tristan to get a full MRI. I will be staying at the hospital for a few days to monitor his concussion. Handle any corporate emergencies while I am gone.” She linked her arm through Tristan’s and confidently walked out the door. Once I was outside the precinct, my phone vibrated. “Mr. Davies. The tickets to Munich are booked. We fly out tonight.” “Good. Have the car pick me up at eight. I have one condition. I am taking my entire tech team with me.” “Done. I will arrange a larger private jet. You dictate their salaries. Whatever they need, give it to them.” Before leaving the city, I stopped by the hospital. Tristan was standing guard outside the VIP suite, refusing to let me in. I calmly handed him a manila folder containing the divorce papers. “Tristan. Tell her it is an urgent corporate contract. I know you will make sure she signs it.” Tristan gave me a sly grin. “Wait at the end of the hall.” Ten minutes later, he strutted down the corridor, aggressively tossing the folder into my chest. “Rowan, now that you are legally dumped, stay the hell away from her. I don’t share. If you ever try to contact Serena again, I have a hundred ways to make you disappear.” He glanced down at my battered knees with absolute contempt. I just smiled faintly. I opened the folder and saw Serena’s elegant signature on the dotted line. Just as I suspected. Tristan held so much power over her that my three years of begging for a divorce was eclipsed by ten minutes of his manipulation. An hour later, I had the expedited divorce certificate in my hand. I left her copy on the coffee table in our empty mansion. At exactly eight o’clock, I boarded a private jet with my loyal engineers, leaving the country behind. As the city lights faded beneath the clouds, I looked out the window. Serena. Every debt I owed you is paid in full. We will never see each other again.

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My mother was a housekeeper for the wealthy Vanderbilt family. Growing up, I was nothing more than a shadow to their daughter, Andy. If she told me to kneel and buff her shoes, I couldn’t stand up. When high school ended, I thought I was finally free. Instead, she insisted on taking the entire class on a luxury safari trip to Africa to watch the Great Migration. Deep in the wilderness, we crossed paths with a lone baby elephant. Driven by pure, twisted privilege, Andy decided she wanted to taste its flesh. When my protests failed and I tried to escape, she ordered the other students to tie me to a massive tree. I was forced to watch as they roasted the poor creature alive. Andy took a single bite, spat it out in disgust, and complained about how terrible it tasted. Then, the enraged herd arrived. Andy and the others scrambled onto the tour bus and sped away, leaving me forgotten and bound. The furious giants trampled me into nothing but broken bones and torn flesh. In that moment of absolute despair, I woke up. I opened my eyes to find myself right back at the moment we first spotted the baby elephant. This time, I did not hesitate. I walked straight to the bus and punctured the fuel tank. This time, absolutely no one is getting away. 1 As the mountain-like foot of the elephant crushed my spine, my eyes were fixed solely on the dust cloud kicked up by the speeding bus. Faintly, I could still hear the class president, Sam, sounding panicked. “Tessa is still back there! Are we really leaving her?” Andy had scoffed, yanking him back into his seat. “As long as she doesn’t move, the elephants won’t bother with her. She is just a servant.” “Besides, she needs to learn her place. Who told her to keep throwing herself at you?” In that agonizing moment, my heart turned to ice. She had tied me to that tree simply because I had offered a bottle of water to Sam when he was carsick. Vision blurring, coughing up mouthfuls of blood, my fingers clawed desperately at the dirt. If I ever got a second chance, I swore I would make every last one of them pay. I blinked, and suddenly I was back at the riverbank where we first found the calf. The playful little elephant was splashing in the water, and my heart hammered violently against my ribs. I was about to shout to scare it away when Andy’s voice rang out in delighted surprise. “Look over there! A baby elephant!” The eyes of all my classmates were instantly drawn to the river. “Wow, it really is a calf. Trust Lady Andy to have the best luck.” “It is all alone. I bet the smell of our barbecue attracted it.” Andy smiled broadly, licking her lips. “You know, I have never tasted elephant before. Which one of you brave boys is going to catch it for me?” The crowd exchanged glances, falling into a tense silence. Seeing that no one moved, Andy frowned. She unstrapped the diamond-encrusted watch from her wrist. “Whoever catches that elephant and roasts it for me gets this Patek Philippe.” That watch was worth at least a hundred thousand dollars, more money than most normal people could earn in a decade. Instantly, the boys began rolling up their sleeves, eager to hunt. Not far away, the innocent calf was still drinking water, completely unaware of the danger. My mind flashed back to the agonizing screams it made as its flesh was seared open. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to speak up. “Baby elephants rarely travel alone. The herd must be close by. We shouldn’t mess with it.” Hearing my warning, a few of the boys hesitated. Andy spared me a disdainful glance and pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from her bag, tossing them onto the ground. “Stop acting like Mother Teresa, Tessa. If this isn’t enough, I will add more. Besides, even if the herd does show up, do you think we are stupid? We have the bus right there to escape.” I looked at the parked tour bus, my hands curling into tight fists. Fueled by her greed, several boys grabbed heavy nylon ropes and began stalking towards the calf. Sam, looking pale from his motion sickness, walked over to stand by us. He was handsome, and his parents were heavy hitters in both politics and business. Eight out of ten girls in our school were in love with him. I was no exception, but even though I had never acted on it, Andy was intensely jealous of any interaction I had with him. Sam frowned as he watched the boys. “Andy, don’t take this too far.” 2 I quickly took a few steps away from Sam. Andy bit her lip, still glaring at me with pure venom. “Sam, don’t listen to her nonsense. It is just a lone calf, there is no danger at all.” “Besides, didn’t we come out here for the thrill of the wild?” Andy purred, leaning close to Sam, but he subtly stepped back, avoiding her touch. Her eyes snapped back to me, filled with rage. “What are you standing there for? Go help them! Do you think I brought you on this trip to relax?” Normally, I would have obediently bowed my head and complied. But today, I simply shook my head. “I don’t feel well. I am going to the bus to rest.” Just as I turned to leave, a manicured hand with long acrylic nails clamped down hard on my arm. “Oh, please. Everyone is working on dinner and you just want to slack off? Do you actually think you are a guest here, Tessa?” I looked at the sharp nails. It was Andy’s best friend, Lexi. In my past life, she was the one who encouraged Andy to tie me up with the nylon rope. I violently shook off her hand just as a piercing, agonizing cry echoed from the riverbank. The boys had successfully ambushed the calf, tying its legs together. The little elephant had a bleeding gash on its forehead from where they had hit it with a rock. Its dark, grape-like eyes were wide with terror as it stared at us. Andy clapped her hands giddily. “Our feast is served!” I was hyperventilating, my eyes darting toward the dense, dark forest behind them. The herd definitely heard the calf’s cries of distress. I began to tremble, bending my waist in a low, desperate plea. “Please, Andy, just let the calf go. Elephant meat doesn’t even taste good.” Before Andy could even respond, Lexi used her sharp nails to poke hard at my face. “Seriously? You are trying to play the saint again? Acting all pathetic. How would you know if it tastes good or not? Even our Andy has never tried it. Have you?” Andy’s face darkened completely. She waved her hand in pure disgust. “You are just a maid’s daughter. What right do you have to tell me what to do? If you don’t want to eat, then get lost!” I didn’t hesitate for a second. I turned to walk toward the bus, but my scalp suddenly exploded in pain. Lexi grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward. “Andy, she is just trying to get out of doing work. You can’t keep spoiling her.” “You don’t want to eat?” Lexi gave me a malicious grin. “Fine. Then you can just sit there and watch us eat.” Looking at the nylon rope in her hand, the terror of being trampled to death amplified in my mind. My breathing became shallow, and I weakly held my head, surrendering. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to slack off. I will go gather firewood right now!” My scalp was yanked hard again before Lexi shoved me to the ground. “See? Was that so hard? You just had to go and upset our Andy.” I looked up to see Andy giving me a look of pure disdain. “What a coward. Utterly pathetic trash.” Standing beside her, Sam said nothing, though his eyes were filled with deep disappointment. I lowered my gaze to hide the mockery in my own eyes. For years, I had endured the relentless bullying of Andy and her circle. I had been their dog, a humble, obedient shadow. But even after all that submission, I hadn’t earned a single shred of basic human respect. As for Sam, that high and mighty bystander, I both liked him and despised him. He clearly didn’t approve of eating the calf either, yet he was too cowardly to speak up himself, waiting for me to take the fall. Every single one of them was utterly revolting. Since they refused to listen to reason, they could deal with the consequences. I kept my head down, quietly moving away from the crowd to gather firewood. The moment I was out of their line of sight, I slipped underneath the tour bus. Gripping the emergency glass-breaking hammer I had stolen earlier, I smashed it violently into the fuel tank. If I was going to die out here, none of them were making it back alive either. I had finally realized that in this world, only death is truly fair to everyone. 3 By the time I returned from the bus, they had already tied the calf’s legs to a thick spit, suspending it over a roaring fire like a suckling pig. The flames licked at its skin, causing its hair to curl and burn. Andy and the others were busy filming videos for social media, completely indifferent to the calf’s agonizing, desperate screams. A few classmates looked uncomfortable, but none of them dared to speak up and challenge Andy. I hid the emergency hammer up my sleeve and walked directly in front of the crowd. “Why do you have to eat an elephant? Is the normal food not enough for you?” Andy was in the middle of recording a video. Seeing me interrupt her shot, she immediately yelled, “Who the hell do you think you are to lecture me? Get the hell out of my face!” Instead of backing down, I reached out, grabbed her phone, and slammed it onto the ground. The sudden violence shocked everyone into silence. Lexi was the first to react, screaming, “You little bitch! Are you crazy? That is the newest iPhone! Can you even afford to replace it?” It took Andy a few seconds to process that I, her lowly servant, had just smashed her phone. Her face twisted in rage as she tapped her temple. “Tessa, is there something wrong with your brain? You dared to smash my phone over a damn animal?” I stepped on the phone, grinding it into the dirt. “Yes. For this exact animal.” That calf roasting over the fire was a mirror of my past self. I was fighting for it, but mostly, I was fighting for me. Andy asked again, unable to believe what was happening. I looked her dead in the eye. “Are you deaf? Untie that elephant right now.” Andy let out a dark, mocking laugh. She grabbed my collar, pulling my face close to hers. “You think you have the right to order me around?” She used her free hand to slap me hard across the face, sending my head spinning. “If it weren’t for my family’s charity, you wouldn’t even be in this country right now, let alone on this trip!” The other classmates finally snapped out of their shock, chiming in to defend Andy. “Tessa, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Andy pays for your elite prep school, your food, and she even brought you on this vacation. Is this how you repay her?” I lowered my eyes, using the back of my hand to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. Did they really think I wanted any of this? I never had a father, and my mother was the family’s live-in maid. She earned a good salary, but she refused to spend a single penny on me. The shoes I wore were always a size too small because they were Andy’s hand-me-downs. The food I ate was always cold leftovers from Andy’s plate. Everything I owned was a scrap of charity from the Vanderbilt family. But if I had the choice, I would rather have nothing. Sam finally spoke up. “Tessa, you are crossing the line.” I let out a sudden, dark laugh. “And are those the only words you know how to say, Sam?” Sam’s face went pale with embarrassment. I ignored him, pulling out a pocket knife I had hidden, determined to cut the nylon ropes binding the calf. Elephants are incredibly intelligent creatures. This calf seemed to realize I was trying to save it. It stopped crying out and just stared at me with its big, glassy eyes. The nylon rope was thick and heavy. I sawed at it furiously, but managed only a small nick. Andy was livid, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Tessa, I swear to God! I brought you into this jungle, and I can make sure you never leave!” I just kept sawing, completely ignoring her threats. The next second, a searing, white-hot pain exploded in my shoulder. I looked down to see a round bullet hole, and blood quickly began to soak through my white t-shirt. Andy stood there holding a small, silver handgun, her forehead bleeding from where I had pushed her earlier. “You really thought I came out here unprepared? Trash like you dared to put your hands on me? Tomorrow, you and your mother are both fired!” Lexi snapped back to reality, pointing at me and cursing. “What an ungrateful bitch! Andy treated you so well, and you turn on her for a stupid beast!” The other students joined in the chorus of condemnation. “Exactly! We have never tasted elephant before. Stop trying to act like a hero.” “Just stop cutting the rope. People are going to think that damn elephant is your child or something.” A wave of cruel laughter erupted around me. Sam said quietly, “Tessa, there is no need to fight everyone.” Amidst the cacophony of their mocking voices, my ears twitched. I felt a deep, heavy vibration beginning to rumble through the earth. The herd was here.

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1 I left my rich family to live in a cramped basement with Grayson, giving up my socialite life for him while pregnant. I used my entire billion-dollar trust fund to rebuild his failing business. Months later, Grayson became Chicago’s wealthiest billionaire. Everyone said I’d gambled and won. But the day I went into labor, my ex-best friend Tessa did too. As I struggled in pain, Grayson signed surgical forms for us both, announcing that both babies were his. He admitted Tessa was his college sweetheart who’d left him when he was poor. I was just a stepping stone. Now wealthy, she’d returned and even allowed her child to bear his name. Through my pain, Grayson laughed, saying I’d naively welcomed Tessa into our home and served her. He offered to let me keep the title of Mrs. Rowland if I didn’t mind sharing him, but warned I’d sleep alone. With no family or society to turn to, he asked if I needed him to spell out my choice. … The violent agony of the induced labor swallowed my senses. I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper, enduring the sensation of my body tearing itself apart. “Why tell me today?” I forced the words through my trembling teeth. Grayson raised a casual eyebrow. He reached out to smooth my sweat drenched hair, his expression carrying a sickening mix of relief and fake pity. “Tessa is having her baby today too. I swore to her that I would give her a proper title.” “She endured a whole year of hiding in the shadows for me. It’s time to put an end to her suffering.” My heart violently seized, suffocating me. I wanted to scream, to curse him for his sick deception, but the excruciating pain in my stomach reduced me to quiet, breathless sobbing. “Grayson, do you even have a heart? I abandoned my entire family for you.” I thought I would see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. At the very least, a trace of conflict. But his next words turned the blood in my veins to solid ice. “Amy, how much longer are you going to hold that over my head?” “You chose to do that. I never begged you for a dime. Stop playing the tragic victim.” His face was completely blank, as if he were discussing the weather. I lay completely frozen until a fresh wave of blinding cramps dragged me back to reality. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” I let out a guttural cry. Grayson finally turned to call for a doctor. But right at that moment, a piercing scream echoed from the VIP suite next door. “Grayson! The baby is coming!” The man snapped his head toward the door. Without a second thought, he peeled my desperate, clinging fingers off his sleeve one by one. “Hold on a minute, Amy. Tessa is crowning. I’ll be right back to sign your epidural release.” “Grayson, they gave me pitocin!” I shrieked, my vocal cords tearing. The only response I got was the sight of his retreating back as he sprinted out the door. The heart monitor beside my ear shrieked in warning. Hot, thick blood poured relentlessly over the delivery bed, soaking the sheets. My lower body felt like it was being ripped open by a jagged blade. I didn’t even have the strength left to cry for help. Every single available doctor and nurse had been summoned to Tessa’s room. I dragged my trembling hand toward the emergency call button clamped to the bedrail. My sweat slicked fingers slipped. With a heavy crash, I tumbled off the mattress onto the cold tile floor. The heavy IV pole toppled over, smashing directly onto my back. Laying in a pool of my own blood, I felt my womb growing terrifyingly hollow. Total despair swallowed me whole. My mind flashed through everything Grayson had done to win me over. Before I met him, I was the beloved heiress of the Kensington family. The line of wealthy heirs begging for my attention stretched all the way to Paris. But Grayson wanted me. He lowered his pride to act as my personal bodyguard. He let my snobby socialite friends treat him like a stray dog without a single complaint. When I mentioned a dress I liked, he tracked down exclusive designers across the globe to custom make pieces just for me. He offered to sign away his pride and marry into my family, taking my last name just to prove his devotion. Even when I surrounded myself with gorgeous male models at parties, he just stood in the corner with red eyes, willingly playing the role of my pathetic backup plan. Eventually, he broke through my walls. I fell madly in love with him. I never imagined it was a meticulously crafted trap to steal my fortune. When I opened my eyes again, my heart was hammering frantically against my ribs. I grabbed the sleeve of a passing nurse. “Where is my baby?!” The nurse offered a sympathetic smile. “Miss Kensington, your daughter was very weak. She’s currently stabilizing in the neonatal incubator.” Knowing my little girl was alive, a flood of hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I covered my mouth, completely overcome by muffled, shaking sobs. But through the thin walls, I heard deafening cheers erupting from the adjacent room. “Congratulations to Tessa for giving the boss a baby boy!” “Hell yeah! Tessa is the real deal. Not like Amy, popping out a useless little girl!” The nurse gave me an awkward, pitying look before stepping out. I stopped crying. I wiped my face with the back of my bruised hand, my eyes hardening into glass. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and opened the Kensington family group chat. I hadn’t sent a message in over a year. “Mom, Dad, Cole. I was so wrong. I’m ready to come home. I’m bringing my daughter to New York.” Grayson Rowland, since you never cared about our child, don’t blame me when we disappear from your life forever. Just as I locked my phone, Tessa walked into my room. Her eyes were artificially glossy with fake tears as she cradled her newborn son against her chest. “Amy! I am so sorry. It’s all my fault for having such a long labor. I heard you hemorrhaged from the delay.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet sincerity, as if my near fatal blood loss was the greatest tragedy of her life. “But don’t worry, Amy. Even though you only had a girl, my son is basically yours too. You can be his godmother.” My face was a mask of pure frost. “I seriously doubt Grayson would ever let me touch his precious heir.” Tessa’s face drained of color. “Amy, you… you know everything. Please don’t overthink this. Grayson and I were just friends with benefits.” Friends with benefits. A dark, venomous laugh escaped my throat. What kind of best friend sleeps with her friend’s boyfriend and shamelessly calls it a casual arrangement? And then has the audacity to birth his bastard child. I spent fifteen years protecting Tessa. When her stepdad abused her, I called the cops and hid her in my mansion. When she fell into deep depression, I paid for the best therapists in the country to pull her out of the dark. I spent millions of dollars making sure she had a good life. And she repaid me by turning into a bloodsucking parasite. Pure, boiling rage consumed me. I glared at her pathetic, innocent mask. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from my nightstand and hurled it directly at her face. The glass shattered against the wall with a deafening crash. But it didn’t hit Tessa. Grayson had materialized out of nowhere, shielding her. A thick stream of blood slid down his forehead where a piece of shrapnel caught him. His broad back was rigid, acting as a human shield for Tessa and his newborn son. “Amy Kensington, that is aggravated assault. I will lock you in a federal prison for the rest of your life.” My chest physically ached at the sight. Then came his cold, disgusted reprimand. “Tessa dragged herself out of bed right after giving birth just to check on you. She cares about you to a fault, and you throw a fucking vase at her head?” “If you had hurt my son, how would you ever repay me? You have absolutely nothing left to your name.” Those two questions dug into my brain like rusted spikes. My lips twitched into a bitter smirk. I stared at Grayson, my eyes hollow with profound disappointment. When his company’s funding collapsed and his parents were sent to federal prison on fraud charges, he had absolutely no one. It was me who threw away my pride. I begged my elite friends for high interest loans to bail him out. When the money still wasn’t enough, I crawled on my knees begging my parents and my brother. When they refused, I sneaked into my grandfather’s estate in the dead of night, legally liquidating my billion dollar inheritance just to save Grayson’s pathetic life. I was a billionaire heiress who had never done a load of laundry in her life. Yet I followed him to cheap motels, ate instant noodles, and sold off my designer bags one by one to pay his lawyers. During my pregnancy, I was so malnourished I could barely stand. I refused to buy meat just to save a few extra dollars for his startup. And now, for the sake of his mistress, he casually erased all my sacrifices and nailed me to a cross. A faint cry from the incubator down the hall broke the suffocating silence. I suddenly remembered my fragile daughter, hooked up to a dozen IV needles because of my delayed labor. I grabbed my water glass, the floral arrangement, anything I could reach, and violently hurled them at the two of them. “Get out! You disgusting pieces of trash. I hope you two rot in hell together!” I screamed until my lungs burned. My entire body shook uncontrollably with absolute fury. Grayson just tightened his grip on Tessa and escorted her out the door. Once they were gone, the adrenaline faded. I collapsed back onto the cold linoleum floor, completely numb and drained. Suddenly, a terrifying wave of manic depression hijacked my brain. My skull throbbed with a splitting agony. I grabbed fistfuls of my own hair and began slamming my head violently against the floor tiles. After cutting ties with my family, the prolonged, crushing stress of poverty had given me severe bipolar depression. When the episodes hit, the urge to destroy myself was a living, breathing monster. Losing total control, I grabbed a jagged piece of porcelain from the broken vase. I dragged it hard across my forearm, watching the blood well up. The hospital door was suddenly kicked open. Grayson dropped to his knees, pulling me tightly into his chest. Panic laced his voice. “Amy, I’m here. I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s over.” The manic rage inside me wasn’t satisfied. Just as I raised the bloody shard to cut myself again, Grayson shoved his bare forearm directly against my mouth. My teeth sank deep into his flesh. I heard his sharp hiss of pain ringing in my ear. I froze. Clarity slowly seeped back into my fractured mind. I looked down and saw his arm was already covered in a dozen faded bite marks. Tessa also suffered from severe depression. A sudden, horrifying realization washed over me. I let out a miserable, broken laugh. “Why Tessa?” “Grayson Rowland, are you actually stupid or just pretending? She stole your company’s classified data from me. She sold your entire empire out to the Sinclair Group. Did you conveniently forget that?” Grayson lowered his gaze. His thumb gently wiped a tear from my cheek. “I haven’t forgotten. But that’s in the past. After my parents went to prison, you were completely obsessed with the legal battles. You never noticed my suffering. Tessa was the one who stayed by my side in the dark. She pulled me out of the abyss.” I threw my head back and let out a hysterical, mocking laugh. Tears poured freely down my face. So my sleepless nights bribing lawyers, begging for leniency, running myself into the ground until I looked like a corpse. The night I was cornered by thugs in the slums and almost assaulted just trying to deliver his legal paperwork. To him, all of that meant absolutely nothing compared to Tessa’s fake sympathy. An invisible hand gripped my heart, squeezing until I was on the brink of total collapse. Like a glutton for punishment, I asked one last question to finally kill whatever love I had left for him. “How did we both get pregnant at the exact same time?” Grayson stiffened. A nostalgic, almost amused smirk touched his lips. “A year ago, after you were cornered in that alleyway. You swore those guys didn’t touch you. But honestly, the thought of it disgusted me. You flinched every time I came near you. Under all that pressure, Tessa and I rekindled things. She told me she was doing it for your sake. We even signed a casual hookup agreement.” “Now that I’m a billionaire, she doesn’t have to leave me. She even went under the knife for breast implants just for me. She bought endless sets of lingerie to keep things interesting. When your depression flared up and you locked yourself away, I couldn’t handle the suffocating energy. I went to a hotel with Tessa. We went through five boxes of condoms in a single night.” “I can lie to the press, Amy, but I can’t lie to my own heart.” Every single word was a serrated hook ripping through my flesh. I couldn’t fathom it. This was the same man who once promised me a pure, childfree life. The man who claimed he only wanted a deep, emotional connection with me. And yet he surrendered his entire soul for a pair of fake breasts and cheap hotel sex. My stomach violently turned. No wonder the first time we slept together after my trauma, when I was crying and begging him to stop because it hurt, he just forced himself on me like a feral animal. All my life-threatening sacrifices had been weighed and given a cheap price tag. Even his grand pursuit of me was nothing more than a calculated scheme to drain my family’s wealth and pay off his debts. My eyes were bloodshot. My throat felt like I had swallowed burning coals. Grayson noticed my devastated expression. He looked down at me with casual arrogance. “You don’t need to play the innocent victim, Amy. The only reason my parents are rotting in prison is because your parents bribed Tessa to plant the evidence. They wanted to force me to leave you.” “I know your elite family looks down on me. But the debt is settled now. Moving forward, you get me on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Tessa gets the rest. I’ll make sure it’s fair.” A massive wave of pure irony washed over me. I let out a dark sneer. Grayson had no idea. In the beginning, my parents actually tried to secretly fund his failing company. It was only when they uncovered the Rowland family’s illegal money laundering that they pulled their support. And yet, he used this fabricated grudge to mentally torture me for an entire year. I straightened my spine, slipping perfectly back into the untouchable posture of the Kensington heiress. “Your sense of fairness makes me sick to my stomach.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the flash drive my brother had just securely messaged me. It contained the undeniable proof of Tessa framing Grayson’s company. I slapped the small metal drive into his palm. “Everything you actually need to know is in there.” He didn’t even look at it. He let out a condescending scoff. “Amy, I already know the truth. Handing me fake files now just proves you’re terrified I’ll cut you off now that your parents don’t want you.” “Relax. As long as you don’t pick fights with Tessa, I’ll write thirty percent of my estate into your will.” Without a backward glance, he walked straight back to Tessa’s room. Through the wall, I heard the sickening sounds of their happy new family laughing together. I looked down at my phone. My flight to New York was booked for three days from now. The morning of my departure, I dressed impeccably. My family was hosting a massive welcome back gala at the Kensington estate to officially announce my return to high society. But the moment I stepped out of my cab, rough hands clamped over my mouth. I was violently dragged into the backseat of a tinted Rolls Royce. Grayson was sitting in the dark leather interior. Tessa was curled in his arms, weeping hysterically. Her clothes were torn, and there were fresh, shallow cuts on her arms. My heart dropped. Then Grayson’s venomous voice filled the car. “Amy, I was wondering why you were acting so quiet lately. Turns out you were busy crawling back to your mommy and daddy.” “You actually had them send an online mob after Tessa. She had a major depressive episode. She tried to jump off a building three times today!” “How much blood do you people need to draw from her?!” I stared blankly at Tessa. Beneath her fake tears, her eyes danced with malicious triumph. For a split second, my numb heart felt a sharp sting. I treated this woman as my soul sister, and she was actively trying to destroy my life. “What do you want from me?” I asked coldly. “At your welcome gala tonight, you are going to take the microphone and publicly expose your parents for cyberbullying and corporate terrorism.” My pupils shrank. My voice involuntarily spiked. “Are you insane? They are my family!” Grayson sneered. He threw a massive stack of manila folders aggressively into my face. “If you refuse, I will leak these documents to the press. They prove the Kensington Corporation committed massive tax fraud and forged federal stamps. Do you want your parents to die in federal prison?” “You only have one choice, Amy.” My knuckles turned white. The heavy fabricated evidence stung my cheeks. My teeth chattered with suppressed rage, but I closed my eyes and surrendered. “Fine. I’ll do it.” The gala was breathtaking. My parents were glowing with pure joy, holding my hands tightly, their eyes red with happy tears. “Amy, you finally grew up.” “As long as you’re home, sweetheart, everything we own is yours.” I couldn’t look them in the eye. Standing under the glittering chandeliers, surrounded by the most powerful elites in the country, I raised the microphone to my lips. My voice shook violently. “I… I have a confession to make.” The ballroom went dead silent. “I am reporting Richard and Margaret Kensington for severe corporate extortion, withholding employee wages, and orchestrating a malicious cyberbullying campaign against an innocent woman.” Every word felt like a knife dragging across my own throat. The crowd erupted in absolute chaos. My parents looked like they had been struck by lightning. My brother, Cole, turned pale with fury. With tears streaming down my face, I stepped off the stage, desperate to whisper an explanation to them. But Cole lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar. He roared in my face. “Amy, have you lost your fucking mind?! How dare you throw dirt on this family in front of the press?! Do you know you just ruined our entire legacy?!” I looked at him in sheer panic. I turned my head and saw the massive projector screen behind the stage displaying the fabricated tax fraud documents Grayson had blackmailed me with. My brain practically short-circuited. I shook my head wildly. “No… no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Grayson promised me!” Acting on pure instinct, I looked up toward the VIP balcony overlooking the ballroom. Grayson had Tessa pressed hard against the glass railing. They were completely naked, having sex right there in the shadows, watching my life burn to the ground. Tessa locked eyes with me through the glass. Her arrogant smirk said everything. You lost, Amy. I didn’t just take your man. I took your entire family. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs felt like they were literally going to explode. Cole shoved me to the ground, his eyes filled with absolute disgust. “You are a rabid dog, Amy. We never should have let you back in.” My world shattered. I tried to crawl toward my parents, but the paramedics were already rushing them out on stretchers. They had collapsed from the shock. The wealthy guests and corporate executives didn’t hold back. Someone threw a heavy cocktail glass at my head. Another splashed an entire bottle of red wine over my designer gown. A tidal wave of vicious insults crashed over me. “You cursed bitch! You ruined your own empire for a piece of trash boyfriend?!” “I feel so sick for her parents. Raising a monster like this!” “Brainless little slut!” I curled into a ball on the marble floor, trying to protect my head. But my defensive posture only seemed to enrage the mob further. High heels kicked my ribs. Hands grabbed my hair, dragging my bruised and bleeding body straight out the front doors and throwing me into the middle of the busy intersection. “Let’s teach this ungrateful bitch a lesson her parents couldn’t!” Cars swerved violently around my body. The sheer terror and trauma finally triggered my depression. I knelt on the asphalt, screaming and smashing my forehead into the pavement like a maniac. I didn’t stop until I saw Grayson’s sports car pull out of the valet line. He and Tessa drove right past me. Acting like a completely deranged lunatic, I screamed wildly, chasing their taillights down the avenue. By the time I stumbled into the hospital lobby, my bones felt like shattered glass. I barely made it to the third floor before four burly nurses ambushed me. They pinned my arms behind my back and dragged me forcefully into a blood-draw room. “Who are you?! Get your hands off me!” I shrieked. They ignored me, handing the fresh vials of my blood to Grayson, who was standing in the doorway. “The match is one hundred percent perfect, Mr. Rowland. We can proceed with the pediatric bone marrow extraction immediately.” Bone marrow extraction? A sickening, impossible thought clawed its way into my brain. I stumbled forward, grabbing Grayson by his expensive lapels. My eyes were bloodshot, practically glowing with madness. “Where is my daughter?!” He gently wiped a streak of dried blood from my cheek. “Amy, the doctor said our little girl won’t survive past her first birthday. Her heart is failing. But Tessa’s boy was just diagnosed with aggressive leukemia. Their bone marrow is a perfect match.” My scalp went completely numb. I stared at Grayson like he was a terrifying, alien monster. “You are going to harvest my daughter’s organs to save your bastard son?!” “Over my dead body!” I shoved him away and sprinted toward the surgical wing. But a sharp prick pierced the back of my neck. Grayson looked down at me with cold, detached pity as he pushed the plunger of a heavy sedative syringe. “Amy, we can always make another baby.” Black spots danced in my vision. Pure, suffocating terror wrapped around my throat like a venomous snake. I collapsed onto the cold floor. When I woke up, Tessa was standing over my bed. Her eyes were gleaming with pure malice. She tossed a small gold locket onto my chest. “You really are pathetic, Amy. You couldn’t even save your own brat.” “Honestly? My son never even had leukemia. But he is going to be the sole heir to the Rowland empire. Your little mistake had to be erased.” My pupils violently dilated. A primal scream tore from my throat. I grabbed the heavy surgical scalpel off the medical tray next to the bed and lunged straight for her throat. In a flash, Grayson tackled me from the side. “Amy! I told you not to touch her!” I stared at him in stunned silence. As we fell, the blade missed Tessa completely. Instead, Grayson’s momentum drove the handle hard against my chest, burying the blade deep into my own stomach. Hot, dark blood sprayed violently across Grayson’s face. His pupils trembled with sudden horror. Blood bubbled from my lips. I used the absolute last ounce of my strength to let out a weak, mocking laugh. “Grayson… you are so fucking stupid.” “You’re so blind… you don’t even know Tessa is the one who put your parents behind bars.” “You’re so stupid… you don’t even know your son was never sick.” Seeing my eyes slowly roll back into my head, Grayson froze completely. Total panic finally shattered his arrogant mask.

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It was my birthday. I’d booked a table at a fancy restaurant, but my wife and father-in-law both claimed they had to work late. Though disappointed, I understood. I enjoyed the meal alone. Then my phone buzzed with a wedding livestream. There, in a suit, toasting the guests, was my father-in-law. “This first toast is to myself. I’ve endured every hardship building this business and raising my daughter. Today, I finally live for myself.” “The second toast is to surviving. For my child, I endured a stifling marriage. Now, I’ve found someone who truly cherishes me.” “The third toast is to my family. Look at this table—my daughter, my wife, and my devoted Wilson. This is our family, complete. I just pray my daughter doesn’t follow in her father’s footsteps.” Watching my wife nestled in the man’s arms, gazing at my father-in-law with emotion, cold dread spread through me. I picked up my phone and revoked their unlimited signing privileges at the hotel. I wanted to see how this “happy” family would manage to leave today. 1 The company just closed a huge deal. To celebrate, I gave all my employees the day off. Finally, I had some time free from my busy schedule. Coincidentally, it was my birthday, so I booked a table at a high-end restaurant, planning a nice weekend with my wife and her family. But my father-in-law claimed he had important matters to attend to, and my wife, looking apologetic, explained she had to work overtime at her company and couldn’t make it. I understood, regretfully heading off to enjoy the lavish meal by myself. While scrolling through my phone, however, I was pushed a live stream of a wedding. It was, unmistakably, taking place at a hotel under my company’s ownership. And my father-in-law was there, in a groom’s suit, smugly toasting the guests, with my wife smiling and sitting beside him. In the live stream, the woman clinging to my father-in-law looked familiar. She was the nurse we’d hired when my mother-in-law was gravely ill. My father-in-law had, at some point, gotten involved with her. What angered me even more was that the wine my father-in-law was toasting with was the very jar of “daughter’s red” that my mother-in-law, in her final moments, had painstakingly prepared and sealed for our future child. My mother-in-law’s blessings were still faintly visible on it. Yet, his relatives acted as if they were blind, echoing my father-in-law’s words, saying he had finally overcome his hardships. This wedding, it seemed, was being held at the expense of my mother-in-law’s and my dignity! My rage boiled. My hand trembled slightly as I picked up my phone. I quickly dialed my wife’s number. In the live stream, the moment she saw my name on her phone, her expression subtly changed. But the next second, she chose to hang up, then flipped her phone face down. Not giving up, I bombarded her with calls. After several rings, I saw my father-in-law frown, pick up my wife’s phone, and tap it a few times. When I called again, the line just kept showing “in use,” and her phone didn’t react at all. Not only that, but whether it was WhasApp or other contact methods, all showed I’d been blocked. My father-in-law’s phone was the same. I took a few deep breaths, then called my wife’s aunt. This time, it was answered quickly. But the voice on the phone was no longer as amiable as before; instead, it held a sharp, disdainful edge. “Well, well, isn’t this Ethan Gummer? What, not going to your dead-end job today? You actually have time to call me?” 2 Her words were harsh, laced with schadenfreude, but I had no time to argue with her. “Put Joyce on the phone. I need to talk to her.” “What’s with your attitude, man? Don’t think you’re still a son-in-law of the Hayes family. My brother didn’t even invite you to his wedding. If you ask me, young Wilson is much more sensible than you. You’re simply not good enough for our Joyce!” I almost laughed in anger. The Hayes family’s true colors were utterly shameless. When they thought I had value, they were all respectful. Now, believing my father-in-law was rich and seeing his displeasure with me, they were openly hostile. “Think carefully. I haven’t divorced Joyce yet. We are legally married. Hand the phone to her, now!” The aunt hesitated this time. She mumbled some unsavory words, then held the phone out. I watched Joyce in the live stream, frowning and shaking her head, and heard her voice through the earpiece, refusing to take the call. My father-in-law chimed in from the side, impatiently waving his hand at the aunt. “Why pick up? It’s my big day, and this tactless fool just has to interrupt. Don’t waste words on him!” Hearing that, the aunt scoffed dismissively and immediately hung up. I held my phone in silence, feeling as if I were watching some absurd tragicomedy unfold. My wife of ten years betrayed me, falling for another man. And my father-in-law, who had been a model husband to my mother-in-law, had apparently never liked her from the start. He’d feigned affection for years, waiting for my mother-in-law to pass, only then revealing his true self. Their proclaimed “family” never included my mother-in-law or me. It turned out love truly could be an act. And now, the curtain was about to fall on this performance. Recalling everything from the past, I felt a faint ache in my chest. I stared blankly at my phone. In the live stream, my father-in-law was proposing to his second spring, his face beaming with happiness. But the dowry he offered her made me utterly disbelieving. My father-in-law was smiling like a giddy teenager, excitedly slipping a ring onto Serena’s finger. Before, when my mother-in-law was alive, he always maintained an air of detached intellectualism, never getting emotional, much less losing his composure like this. “Your willingness to marry me truly moves me. Meeting you, I finally understood what a true soulmate is. I wish I had been with you from the very beginning.” “Serena, don’t you worry. I won’t shortchange you. This hotel and the villa at home will be transferred to your name tomorrow. Consider it a small token of my affection.” “As for Wilson, I know he’s a filial boy. He’s the son-in-law I’m truly pleased with. So, I’ll make a small sacrifice for him. Just let him tolerate that troublesome one at home. As compensation, I’ll give him that estate on the city outskirts.” Serena and her son’s eyes gleamed as they listened. My father-in-law then turned and patted Joyce’s shoulder. “Daughter, your dad has faith in you two. I just really don’t want you and Wilson to go down the same old path your dad did.” Joyce was overcome with emotion, feeling her father’s profound love for her. I was so disgusted I couldn’t speak. The hotel, the villa, and the estate—they were all my assets. On what grounds did my father-in-law think I’d willingly give them away? Truth be told, Joyce and I came from vastly different backgrounds. I was the eldest son of the Gummer family; she was from an ordinary working-class family. Our marriage only happened thanks to my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law and my birth mother had been best friends since childhood. Even after my mother-in-law’s family went bankrupt, it didn’t affect their bond. My mother passed away after giving birth to me, entrusting me to my mother-in-law on her deathbed. My father, busy with the company, was often absent, so my mother-in-law essentially raised me. In my heart, she was no different from my birth mother. So, after she married, I often visited. My decision to be with Joyce, besides genuinely liking her, was also partly influenced by wanting to stay close to my mother-in-law. Over the years, the Hayes family had largely thrived, smoothly sailing through life, relying on my mother-in-law’s and my resources. When my mother-in-law passed away, I was more heartbroken than anyone else, burying myself in work to numb the pain. 3 Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely against my father-in-law finding a new partner. My mother-in-law had even encouraged me to accept it before she passed. But this was too fast. My mother-in-law had only been gone for six months, and he was already married to another woman, who, to top it off, was the nurse who had cared for my mother-in-law. The thought of them hooking up right by my mother-in-law’s sickbed filled me with an uncontrollable hatred. Joyce’s reaction chilled me even more. My father-in-law had never lifted a finger; my mother-in-law had handled all of Joyce’s upbringing and daily needs since childhood. Yet, not only was she not angry about her father’s betrayal, she sympathized with him, claiming to have found “true love” herself. The child my mother-in-law gave birth to had become a sharp knife plunged into her. Joyce was worse than a piece of rotten meat! I watched as the crowd below cheered, and the comments section flooded with praise for my father-in-law’s generosity and his image as a good man. A fleeting comment asking if I, her rightful husband, would agree, was noticed by a relative. He rolled his eyes, then nosily asked the question aloud. My father-in-law on stage scoffed, a look of domineering authority on his face. “How dare he disagree? He eats my food, uses my things, I support him. It’s generous enough that I haven’t made my daughter divorce him. What right does he have to stop my daughter and me from pursuing true love?!” The audience applauded loudly. Watching Joyce tightly clasping Wilson’s hand, I let out a cold laugh. My past sincerity? I guess I just fed it to the dogs. My father-in-law’s words were very true. They ate my food, used my things, I supported them—but not so they could step on my mother-in-law and me to pursue “true love”! I picked up my phone and revoked their unlimited signing privileges at the hotel. I wanted to see how this “happy” family would manage to leave the hotel after I stopped being their blood bank. You see, at my father-in-law’s insistent request, this wedding banquet, from the food to the decorations, was all of the highest possible standard. After a moment’s thought, I called the hotel manager, instructing him to settle the bill immediately. After all, without an audience, I feared my father-in-law’s little show wouldn’t last. The hotel manager’s face immediately tightened upon receiving my call. When my father-in-law had made the booking, he had used my name. Now I was telling the manager I didn’t know them. Realizing the enormous cost of the event, and fearing a no-show, the manager disregarded the lively scene and hurriedly ran up to demand payment. My father-in-law, his declaration to Serena interrupted, shot an annoyed glance at the manager. “Is this your hotel’s service attitude? Coming to collect payment in the middle of a wedding banquet?” The relatives below chimed in, supporting him. “Exactly! How tactless is this guy? I’ve never been to a wedding where they demand payment halfway through!” “Old Man Hayes is your company’s boss, isn’t he? If you do this, you’ll be fired!” My father-in-law, basking in the flattery, nodded at the crowd below, proudly promising. “From now on, anyone who wants to come, just come and have fun. Just tell them my name, Garrett Hayes, when you check out. My Hayes family has plenty of money!” Serena also smiled and nodded. “That’s right, we’re all family. Once it’s under my name, everyone is welcome anytime. I’d be delighted.” But the manager remained unmoved. He had received my call and naturally knew my father-in-law’s lies. My father-in-law, seeing his persistence, gave him a cold look. “No common sense, huh? Fine, settle the bill now. Once you’re done, you can pack your things and leave. My hotel doesn’t need you!” Seeing him agree to pay, the manager nodded and presented the bill. “Your wedding venue decoration and food together total one and a half million dollars. How would you like to pay?” “Pay? I’m the owner of this hotel. I have signing authority. Bring it, I’ll sign!” The manager was quite confused, but still, upholding his professional integrity, he checked his phone. Then he looked up at my father-in-law. “I apologize, sir, you do not have authorization at this hotel… Do you have another payment method?” My father-in-law’s face turned ugly. He stared at the manager in disbelief. The relatives below also fell silent, their gazes subtly sweeping over my father-in-law. He flushed crimson, pulling Joyce forward. “I must have forgotten to activate my own authorization. Swipe her card. I remember I gave my daughter full access!” My father-in-law thought I was just trying to block him. He was convinced I wouldn’t deny my wife access, but he was destined for disappointment. “This lady also has no authorization. How would you like to proceed, sir?” This time, Joyce’s face also changed. She tried to appear calm, reassuring her father. “It’s okay, it must be a system glitch. Let’s just settle the bill directly. It’s all just transferring money from one pocket to another anyway.” She said, pulling out the black card I had given her. “Use this card to pay.”

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When I awoke, I found myself back on the day I was to operate on my husband’s cherished former love. In my past life, I spent ten grueling hours in surgery to save her, only to be framed by my husband afterward. He bribed a nurse to testify I gave the wrong drug, causing her death, and accused me of killing her out of jealousy. My medical career was destroyed, and I was shunned by all. My mother, trying to defend me online, was driven to suicide by cyberbullying. Overwhelmed, I jumped from the hospital roof. After I died, I saw my husband take my insurance and inheritance, then live happily with his “reborn” first love. This time, on the morning of my scheduled promotion to Vice President, I took an iron weight and crushed my right hand. The injury made me miss the crucial surgery. Everyone pitied me for ruining my future. Overjoyed, I went home and drank two bottles of fine Bordeaux. 1 “What the hell happened to Dr. Pierce’s hand?” “Who knows? Maybe she was terrified of botching tomorrow’s surgery. A failure like that would humiliate our newly appointed VP!” I walked through the hospital corridors, completely ignoring the gossip and wild speculation filtering out of the breakrooms. My face remained an mask of total calm as I headed straight for the Director’s office. My phone screen lit up. A text from my husband, Declan. [Val, I’m leaving Serena in your hands tomorrow. I know you’ll fix her. Love you babe, xoxo.] It was the exact same message he sent in my past life. Back then, my heart had fluttered at the words “Love you.” Now, only a venomous chill spread through my veins. Director Brooks stared at my heavily casted right hand, his forehead wrinkling into a deep frown. “How could you be so careless, Valerie? Of all the times to get injured.” “I was planning to use tomorrow’s surgery to solidify your authority here. You know perfectly well there’s still a faction opposing your promotion to Vice President.” I lowered my eyes, letting my gaze fall onto my completely immobilized fingers. After a long, deliberate pause, I spoke. “I’m so sorry, Director Brooks. I know I let you down.” “Let my father-in-law take the scalpel tomorrow. Adam has the seniority and the surgical skills to outshine almost anyone in this hospital.” Director Brooks let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose we don’t have a choice. Go home, Valerie. Take some time to rest.” Leaving the hospital grounds, I hailed a cab and headed straight to my mother’s house. Watching the city streets blur past the window, my heart felt a strange, profound peace. Everyone pitied me for losing the perfect chance to prove my worth. But I was the only one who knew the truth. That supposedly glorious surgery was nothing but a massive, meticulously planned trap. Before I could even fish my keys out of my purse, the front door swung open. My mom stood there, her eyes red-rimmed as she stared at my bandaged hand. Pure maternal panic was written all over her face. “Valerie! Honey, is your hand going to be okay?” Seeing my mother standing there, alive and breathing, a painful lump formed in my throat. I practically threw my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I ever had. “Mom, I missed you so much.” She stiffened in surprise for a second before gently rubbing my back. “Sweetheart, did someone at work treat you badly?” “Listen to me. Tell your bosses you need a leave of absence. Stay home and rest. I don’t care about you being a big shot doctor. I just want my daughter to be safe and happy.” A single tear slipped down my cheek. Mom, I want you to be safe too. I’ve been given a second chance at life, and I swear to God I will rewrite both of our fates. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced a lighthearted smile. “Don’t worry, Mom. The Director gave me a whole month off.” “I just need to pop into the hospital tomorrow to sort out some paperwork, and then I’m all yours.” My mom beamed, nodding repeatedly. “Oh, an old woman like me doesn’t need babysitting. You should spend that time with Declan. You’ve been working yourself to the bone these past few years. It hasn’t been easy on him being home alone so much.” The warmth drained from my face the second I heard Declan’s name. Right on cue, my phone buzzed with another text from him. [Valerie, why aren’t you replying? Serena said you didn’t even do rounds today. What kind of attending physician are you? Are you even prepped for tomorrow’s surgery?!] 2 In my previous life, I basically lived in the hospital archives trying to guarantee Serena’s survival. I read endless medical journals and watched surgical recordings until my eyes bled. But the moment I pulled Serena back from death’s door, the husband I adored threw me to the wolves. He accused me of treating human life like garbage just to settle a petty, jealous grudge. My brilliant, hard-earned future was shattered into a million dark pieces. To make the charges stick, he bribed a scrub nurse. I can still remember the blinding flash of the press cameras as that nurse pointed right at me, his face twisted in fake outrage. “I saw Dr. Pierce swap the patient’s life-saving medication with my own two eyes!” Worse, Declan leaked a video of an argument between Serena and me. In the clip, I had lost my temper and shouted, “Why won’t you just drop dead?!” Those words became the final nail in my coffin. No matter how loud I screamed, no matter how desperately I pleaded my innocence, I couldn’t fight their manufactured witnesses and fabricated evidence. The world decided I was a monster hiding in a white lab coat. Only my mother stood by me. But the harder she fought to clear my name, the more viciously the internet tore her apart. It broke her mind, eventually leading to her fatal fall into the river. On the day the police came with a formal arrest warrant, I climbed to the hospital roof and stepped off the ledge. As a ghost, I haunted Declan’s side just long enough to see Serena miraculously come out of hiding, completely cured. Maybe the universe felt the suffocating weight of my hatred, because it actually hit the rewind button. This time around, Serena’s surgeon was Declan’s own biological father. Let’s see how he plans to dump this bucket of blood on my head now. The next morning, I arrived at the hospital early. I practically superglued myself to Director Brooks, staying in his office to discuss administrative matters all day long. When the timing felt right, I finally excused myself. The moment I stepped toward the surgical wing, Declan appeared. He brought a massive crowd of people with him, completely blocking my path. Because I kept my cast hidden inside the deep pocket of my oversized white coat, Declan had no idea my hand was crushed. He stormed right up to me and slapped me hard across the face. “Valerie Pierce! You call yourself a doctor?! You murdered your own patient out of pure, petty jealousy! You are a sick, twisted psychopath!” I pressed my tongue against the inside of my stinging cheek, tasting a hint of copper. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone in Declan’s mob already holding up a phone, recording everything. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “What the hell are you talking about? When did I ever kill a patient? Serena’s surgery…” Declan’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked completely unhinged as he cut me off. “Did you really think calling it a surgical complication would let you get away with murder?!” “You killed Serena on purpose!” The crowd, supposedly Serena’s grieving relatives, immediately began shouting. They didn’t give me a single second to speak, rushing forward to grab and shove me. “You piece of trash! You shouldn’t be allowed near a hospital!” “You’re going to pay for this with your life!” Luckily, hospital security was already sprinting down the hall. I only took one punch to the jaw and a few muddy footprints on my lab coat before the guards formed a barricade. Standing safely behind a burly security guard, I glared daggers at Declan. I spoke slowly, enunciating every single syllable. “I didn’t kill Serena. If you’re going to make accusations, Declan, you better have proof.” Declan didn’t look panicked at all. Instead, he put on an Oscar-worthy performance of a heartbroken, morally conflicted husband. “Valerie, I might be your husband, but I’m a human being first. I can’t just turn a blind eye to your evil.” “Don’t blame me for this. Before God and the law, I have to do the right thing. I have to get justice for the dead.” Right at that exact moment, Director Brooks hurried onto the scene, looking furious. 3 “I am the Director of this hospital! What on earth is happening here? If you’re intentionally causing a riot outside my operating rooms, I will have you all arrested.” Declan immediately spoke up, his tone dripping with fake respect. “Director Brooks, thank god you’re here. Valerie abused her medical authority to intentionally murder a patient on the operating table. This hospital owes the grieving family an explanation.” Director Brooks gave Declan a highly skeptical look. “If my memory serves me right, you are Dr. Adam Pierce’s son, and Valerie’s husband.” Declan’s facial muscles twitched for a split second. “I am. But I refuse to bury my conscience just to protect my wife. If I cover for a murderer, I won’t be able to sleep at night.” Watching Declan act like the patron saint of justice physically hurt my chest. Since the day we married, I had catered to his every whim. My mother treated him like the son she never had. And in return, he pushed us into a literal grave. Director Brooks crossed his arms, looking utterly baffled. “That makes no sense. Valerie hasn’t been scheduled for an OR rotation in days. And her surgical record is flawless.” Declan’s voice cracked an octave higher. “Are you blind? She literally just operated on Serena this morning!” I finally stepped out from behind the security guard. “I wasn’t Serena’s surgeon. I spent the entire day inside Director Brooks’ office.” The Director nodded firmly, verifying my alibi. The chaotic hallway instantly dropped into a dead silence. Declan clearly hadn’t accounted for this plot twist. He stood frozen, his brain visibly short-circuiting. Suddenly, a new thought seemed to spark in his eyes, and he pointed a shaking finger at me. “I get it now! You finished the surgery early, killed her, and then ran to the Director’s office to establish a fake alibi behind his back!” Honestly, I had to admire his desperate imagination. Right on cue, a young nurse pushed his way to the front of the mob. He pointed directly at me, his chest heaving with rehearsed indignation. “I can prove it! Dr. Pierce is the one who killed Serena!” Looking at Toby’s handsome, innocent-looking face, pure rage bubbled in my gut. I would recognize this toxic little snake even if he were burned to ash. In my past life, Toby used that exact same innocent face to lie to the press and the police, turning my life into a living hell. But in this life, I hadn’t even set foot in the surgical wing. How the hell was he planning to frame me now? Swallowing the venom in my throat, I stared him down. “Nurse Toby, I’ve never done anything to you. Why are you trying to frame me?” A flicker of guilt flashed in Toby’s eyes, but he quickly masked it, speaking with dramatic conviction. “You’re right, Dr. Pierce. We have no personal issues. But I took an oath to protect patients.” “I saw it with my own two eyes! You swapped Serena’s IV meds. You made sure she died on that table.” “And everyone knows why. You suspected Serena of sleeping with your husband, so you took your revenge!” To seal the deal, Toby pulled out his phone and played the exact same video that had doomed me in my past life. 4 The video played loudly. There I was, face flushed with anger, arguing with Serena in her hospital gown. My voice echoed through the hallway speakers. “Why won’t you just drop dead?!” The nurses and doctors who had gathered to watch the drama began whispering furiously among themselves. “I always thought Dr. Pierce was so elegant. I didn’t know she was psycho behind closed doors. Does she have anger issues?” “You really never know a person. How else do you think she became Vice President so young?” “Do you think she really killed a patient over a guy?” The family mob flared up again. A few heavily built men cracked their knuckles, looking like they were ready to rush me. But the moment they lunged, twenty hospital security guards slammed them back against the wall. Prevented from throwing punches, they settled for screaming vicious curses at my face. Even Director Brooks looked at me with a hint of doubt. Seeing this, a smug, victorious gleam appeared in Declan’s eyes. He seized the moment to deliver the final blow. “Valerie, the motive, the witness, the evidence. It’s all here. What lies are you going to spin now?” I didn’t flinch. I just smoothed down the lapels of my coat. “A heavily edited video clip with zero context isn’t evidence of anything.” Toby ground his teeth, stepping closer. “Prove it’s edited, Dr. Pierce. Prove it.” I tilted my head, smiling coldly. “No, Toby. You prove I swapped the medication. Tell everyone exactly when and where I did it.” Toby puffed out his chest, clearly prepared for the question. He sounded entirely convinced of his own lie. “It was right before the surgery this morning. In the prep room. You injected an unknown substance directly into Serena’s IV bag.” “So I personally pushed the syringe?” I asked. “Yes! I saw you do it!” Hearing his confident answer, I locked eyes with Director Brooks. The Director’s face turned a violent shade of purple. He stepped forward, pointing a heavy finger at Toby. “What department do you even work in, son?” Under the Director’s crushing authority, Toby’s fake confidence began to crack. “I… I’m a scrub nurse in the surgical wing, sir.” “If you work in the OR, why are you out here actively slandering one of our top doctors?! Do you have any idea what happens to liars who try to destroy this hospital from the inside?!” Toby turned completely pale, stammering defensively. “Director, I swear I’m telling the truth!” “You can’t just throw a junior nurse like me under the bus just to protect your precious Vice President!” Declan shot me a filthy look before turning to the crowd, expertly fanning the flames. “He’s right! You can’t threaten a whistleblower just to cover up Valerie’s crimes!” “Does human life mean absolutely nothing to you corporate doctors?!” “I’m calling the cops right now. The police will get us the truth.” I took a step forward, my voice ringing loud and clear down the corridor. “Please do. Call the police. Because I would love to ask a detective how a surgeon with shattered fingers managed to push a syringe, let alone operate on a patient.” Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my right hand out of my deep pocket. The massive, thick cast securing my severely broken hand was finally exposed to the fluorescent lights. Declan and Toby stared at my cast. All the color drained from their faces simultaneously. But my broken hand wasn’t the only nightmare waiting for Declan. A split second later, the heavy electronic doors of the operating room slid open. A surgeon wearing blood-spattered scrubs walked out. When he saw the Director, a tired but relieved smile spread across his face. “Director Brooks. The surgery was a total success. Once the anesthesia wears off, the patient can be moved to a regular recovery room.” Declan let out a horrifying, high-pitched scream. “Dad?! Who did you just operate on?!”

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