Category: English

  • The Baby He Took, The Empire I Took Back

    Ethan kept me as his plaything for three years. In bed, he called me his baby. But the moment he got up, he forced birth control pills down my throat. Behind my back, he told everyone I was just a pet, a human shield to protect the woman he actually loved. He said he would throw me away when he got bored. The day I found out I was pregnant, he personally pinned me to the operating table. He ordered the doctors to scrape my womb clean, without any anesthesia. So I jumped into the freezing ocean, faking my death along with our unborn child. Three years later, I stood right across from him at his own engagement party. Linking arms with another billionaire, I slapped the Vance Corporation’s bankruptcy and acquisition papers right onto his face. “Mr. Vance, who is the pet now?” With bloodshot eyes, he fell to his knees in the pouring rain, begging me to look at him. What he didn’t tell me was that he was already carrying a terminal cancer diagnosis in his pocket. But when our little boy collapsed in front of him from a sudden heart attack, this ruthless man, the one who once wanted me dead, did the unthinkable. He let the doctors drain one-third of his own blood without any anesthesia to prime a mechanical heart for our son. With a weak, dying smile, he whispered to me. “Chloe, I am giving my life back to your son. Can you please stop hating me?”

    Chloe’s POV It was burning hot. In the cramped, sweat-slicked space, the heavy scent of sex and raw pheromones was suffocating. Inside this ultra-luxury penthouse in Manhattan, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows reflected the glittering neon lights of the New York skyline, and our tangled, sweating bodies. I was pressed hard against the cold glass, gasping as Ethan thrust into me from behind. Ethan’s grip was punishingly tight, as if he wanted to crush my bones and fuse me into his own body. His burning chest was glued to my bare back, every deep stroke filled with an undeniable, brutal dominance. “Focus, Chloe,” his low, raspy voice whispered against my ear. His hot breath brushed my skin as he bit down hard on my earlobe, sending a violent shiver straight down my spine. I bit my lower lip raw, refusing to let out a single whimpering cry. My vision blurred with tears, and the city lights outside smeared into dizzying halos. Three years. I had been with this man for three whole years, yet I could never get used to his sheer madness in bed. To the world, Ethan Vance was the untouchable, cold-blooded billionaire CEO. But only I knew that behind closed doors, he was an insatiable monster. He was addicted to my body. He would kiss every single inch of my skin. And at the peak of his desire, he would grip my waist so hard it bruised, growling my name over and over again. I used to think this toxic, beautiful obsession was love. Until the final moment, when Ethan flipped me over, pinned me to the plush carpet, and let himself go. The second his passion peaked, the desire in his eyes vanished like a retreating tide, leaving only a freezing emptiness. The air still smelled heavily of sex. Ethan stood up, completely naked, and walked into the bathroom. The sound of running water started. I lay on the carpet like a discarded rag doll, so sore I couldn’t even lift a finger. My inner thighs were covered in angry red friction marks, proof of how rough he had just been. Half an hour later, Ethan walked out. He was already fully dressed in a tailored black suit. His tie was perfectly straight, and his silver-rimmed glasses sat high on his nose, masking any trace of warmth in his eyes. He was back to being the powerful, ruthless head of the Vance empire. He walked over to the desk, poured a glass of warm water, and took a small white bottle from the drawer. He shook out two pills. Turning around, he looked down at me with absolute indifference, holding out the water and the pills. “Take them.” His voice was flat, like he was giving an order to a low-level employee. My heart squeezed painfully. Birth control. For three years, after every single session, he would watch me swallow these pills with his own eyes. I pushed myself up, my muscles aching. I didn’t take the glass. I just looked up at the man I had loved for three years and whispered, “Ethan, my stomach hurts today. Can I please just…” “No,” Ethan cut me off, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His long fingers gripped my chin, not hard enough to bruise, but with absolute control. “Be good, Chloe. I don’t want any accidents.” An accident meant a baby. He would never allow me to carry his blood. I lowered my eyelashes to hide the stinging tears. I took the glass and swallowed the bitter pills dry, right in front of him. Ethan let go of my chin, his thumb gently brushing my pale cheek, briefly returning to his role as the doting boyfriend. “I’m flying to Europe tonight for a few days. Stay in the penthouse. I just wired five million dollars to your account. Buy whatever you want.” Then, he pulled a sleek invitation card from his suit pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Next month, on the eighth. I’m getting engaged.” Boom. My brain went entirely numb, a sharp ringing echoing in my ears. I snapped my head up, staring at the elegant, mocking invitation on the table. “What did you say?” My voice shook violently. “Are you deaf?” Ethan slowly buttoned his cuffs, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather. “I’m marrying Leilah Rose.” Leilah Rose. New York’s premier heiress. The girl Ethan grew up with. The woman he actually loved. My nails dug so deep into my palms that they almost drew blood. My eyes burned red as I choked out, “You’re getting married. Then what am I to you?” Ethan let out a soft chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned down, placing both hands on the arms of the sofa, trapping me beneath him. His gaze was mocking and merciless. “Chloe, you’re a smart girl. Why ask such a stupid question? What are you? You’re my pet, of course. Don’t worry. Even after I marry Leilah, I won’t cut you off. As long as you stay obedient, this penthouse, and I, will still be yours.” His words were like a poisoned blade, tearing open my chest and trampling my dignity into the dirt. He wasn’t just marrying another woman. He wanted to lock me in this penthouse forever as his dirty little secret. Ethan didn’t care about my ghostly pale face. He stood up straight and walked toward the door. With a heavy thud, the door shut, locking me in the freezing silence. I stumbled into the bathroom, fell over the toilet, and shoved my fingers down my throat. “Gag…” I retched violently until the stomach acid and the half-dissolved pills were forced out. Staring at my bloodshot eyes and ruined face in the mirror, my tears finally spilled over. In truth, I hadn’t taken the pills last month. I had secretly swapped them with vitamins. And my period was already ten days late.

    Chloe’s POV The next morning, wearing a low-profile cap and a face mask, I slipped into a private clinic in downtown Manhattan. It was an ultra-exclusive clinic known for its strict NDA policies. I had booked an appointment with their top OB-GYN. After a series of agonizing tests, I sat in the doctor’s office, my hands sweating as I gripped each other. The doctor pushed up his glasses, looking at the ultrasound sheet with a heavy expression. “Miss Sterling, congratulations. You are indeed pregnant. About five weeks along.” My heart skipped a beat. An overwhelming rush of joy mixed with a terrifying wave of panic crashed over me. I really had a baby. Ethan’s and my baby. “But…” The doctor’s voice turned grave. “Your physical condition is extremely fragile. You suffered severe trauma in the past, and your uterine wall is as thin as paper. Honestly, it’s a miracle you even conceived.” My face drained of color. The memory of being thrown into a freezing lake in upstate New York by my abusive father when I was ten flashed in my mind. I had almost died back then, and my body had never fully recovered. “Doctor, what does that mean?” “It means,” the doctor sighed, “if you want to keep this baby, you have to be bedridden. Any physical shock or stress will trigger a massive, life-threatening hemorrhage.” When I walked out of the clinic, the bright Manhattan sun blinded me. I clutched the crumpled ultrasound sheet in my pocket like it was my actual lifeline. This was my only chance in this lifetime to be a mother. But would Ethan ever want this child? Just yesterday, he had coldly reminded me that he was marrying Leilah. He would never tolerate an “accident.” I sat on a park bench near the clinic for two solid hours. My mind replayed all the sweet things Ethan had done for me over the past three years. He had canceled billion-dollar board meetings just to stay up all night holding a warm compress over my stomach when I had bad cramps. He had ruthlessly ruined a socialite who mocked my poor background, shielding me behind his back. Maybe… maybe he did care about me, even just a little? If he knew I was pregnant, if he knew this was my only chance to have a child, would his heart soften? Would he call off the marriage with Leilah for our baby? Even if there was only a one-in-a-million chance, I had to try. I took a deep breath, hailed a cab, and went straight to the Vance Corporation headquarters. The Vance tower pierced the New York clouds. As Ethan’s “personal secretary” (my official title to the public), I had executive elevator access directly to the penthouse office. The top floor was quiet. The assistants were busy at their desks outside. I walked up to the heavy mahogany door of the CEO’s office. Just as I raised my hand to knock, I heard laughing from inside. The door wasn’t fully shut; a tiny crack was left open. It was the voice of Julian Cole, Ethan’s wealthy best friend. “So, Ethan, the invites are out. You’re really marrying Leilah? What about your little kitten at home? Chloe has been with you for three years. She’s so sweet and obedient. Are you really just going to throw her away?” My hand froze in midair. My breathing stopped. From inside the room, Ethan’s voice drifted out, utterly careless. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s just a toy.” His voice was so chillingly cold, a complete contrast to the passionate man who had held me in his bed last night. Julian chuckled. “A toy? You’ve spoiled her rotten for three years, completely ignoring Leilah’s feelings. Everyone in our circle knows you’d jump in front of a bullet for Chloe.” “It was all a game,” Ethan sneered, tossing his gold pen onto the desk with a sharp clack. “You know how brutal the power struggle within the Vance family has been these past three years. My grandfather was plotting against me, and my uncles were waiting for me to fail. The attacks were coming from everywhere. Leilah just returned to the country; I couldn’t let her become a target.” Ethan paused, his voice utterly calculated. “Chloe had no family, no backing. She was easy to control with just a little cash. By pushing her into the spotlight and acting like I loved her, all the threats and assassination attempts aimed at me landed on her instead.” “Now, I have absolute control over the company. The family can’t touch me anymore, and Leilah is perfectly safe. It’s time to sweep the trash out.” Outside the door. I clamped my hand over my mouth, tears instantly streaming down my face. A target. A human shield. The three years of absolute devotion, the car crashes he “shielded” me from, the poison he saved me from… none of it was because he loved me. It was because those attacks were meant for him, and he had used me as a meat shield to keep Leilah safe! The man I thought was my savior was actually my executioner. A violent wave of nausea hit me. I couldn’t listen to another word. I turned around, desperate to run away from this suffocating place. But the moment I turned, I slammed right into someone. The overpowering scent of Chanel No. 5 hit my nose. I looked up, meeting a pair of eyes filled with smug satisfaction and disgust. Leilah Rose stood there in a Chanel haute couture suit, holding a limited-edition Hermès bag. “Oh, look who it is. Miss Sterling,” Leilah sneered, looking at my pale face. “Eavesdropping on the boss? That’s a fireable offense, sweetie.” Leilah didn’t bother to lower her voice. The men inside heard her instantly. The office door was thrown open. Ethan’s towering figure appeared. The moment his cold eyes landed on my shaking body, the casualness in his expression turned into a sheet of solid ice. “What are you doing here?” he asked coldly, without a single shred of warmth.

    Chloe’s POV The air in the hallway turned to ice. Ethan’s gaze swept over me like a frozen blade. He didn’t even ask why I looked like I was about to faint. His first reaction was simply to scowl, annoyed that my presence had disrupted his perfect little world. Leilah immediately slid her arm through Ethan’s, leaning her body against his chest. She said sweetly, “Ethan, maybe Miss Sterling has some urgent work. But, you know, after we get married, I’ll be very jealous if you keep such a pretty young secretary around.” Her words were laced with venom, marking her territory while trampling on my dignity. Ethan looked down at Leilah, his sharp jawline instantly softening. He pinched her nose playfully, his voice dripping with affection. “Don’t be silly. She’s being reassigned tomorrow anyway.” Reassigned. With one careless sentence, he had erased me from his life. I stared at the happy couple, watching the genuine, unguarded tenderness Ethan showed to Leilah. It wasn’t an act. That was real love. He was a master actor, separating business from pleasure. He slept with me in his bed, while plotting my death behind my back. I felt a metallic taste in my mouth and forced myself to swallow the blood. My hand instinctively went to my flat stomach. The crumpled ultrasound sheet in my coat pocket burned like hot coal, making me shake. “Mr. Vance,” I spoke, my voice disturbingly calm. “I’m not here for work.” Ethan’s scowl deepened, his eyes flashing a warning. “Chloe, know your place. If you have personal matters, we’ll talk at the penthouse.” Did he think I was here to throw a tantrum about his engagement? “The penthouse? You mean the cage where you keep your pet?” I let out a hollow laugh, tears finally spilling over. Leilah’s face stiffened, and she gasped in mock shock. “Ethan, what is she talking about? What pet?” “Shut up!” Ethan snapped, his face turning completely dark. He marched over, grabbing my wrist in a grip so tight I heard my bones pop. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? Who gave you the right to make a scene here!” The pain in my wrist was agonizing, but I didn’t even flinch. I looked straight into his dark, ruthless eyes and said quietly, “Ethan, we’re done. I’m just here for my severance pay.” Ethan froze. He probably expected me to scream, cry, beg, or even threaten suicide. But he never expected me to just ask for cash. For three years, I had been the perfect, quiet doll who never asked for anything. “Severance pay?” Ethan laughed, his eyes filled with pure disgust. “So the sweet act is finally over? Showed your true colors, huh? Is five million not enough to buy your silence?” He turned to Julian and barked, “Go to accounting. Cut her a check for fifty million.” Julian worked fast. Within minutes, he ran back with a signed check. Ethan took the check and slapped it directly onto my face. The sharp edge of the paper sliced a thin red line across my cheek before fluttering to the floor. “Take the money and get the hell out of my sight. Don’t let me ever see your face again,” Ethan growled. I didn’t look at him. I calmly knelt down and picked up the fifty-million-dollar check from the floor. My movements were slow, but my back was straight. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Vance.” I folded the check, putting it in my pocket, and gave him one last look. There was no love left in that look. No hate, either. Just a vast, freezing wasteland. I was looking at a complete stranger. Ethan instinctively reached out to grab me, but I had already turned around, stepping into the elevator without looking back. The moment the elevator doors closed, my strength gave out. I collapsed against the cold metal wall, sobbing hysterically. It was over. Truly over. With shaking hands, I dialed my best friend, Serena Cross. “Serena… help me… I need to get out of New York… tonight…” At 8:00 PM. I dragged my exhausted body back to the penthouse. I didn’t turn on the lights. I walked straight into the bedroom to pack a few basic clothes. Serena had already arranged a private boat to take me out of the country tonight. I didn’t want to spend another second in a place that smelled like Ethan. Just as I zipped my duffel bag, the bedroom lights suddenly flashed on. The blinding light made me wince. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chilling voice echoed from the doorway. My eyes snapped open, my heart jumping into my throat. Ethan was sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room, his legs crossed. He held a lit cigarette, the red tip glowing in the dim light. At his feet lay a crumpled piece of paper. My eyes landed on it, and my pupils shrank. It was my ultrasound sheet! It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was changing in the cab earlier! Ethan slowly blew out a ring of smoke, standing up. His leather shoes clicked against the hardwood floor like a countdown to my doom. He stopped right in front of me, his eyes burning with a terrifying, wild rage. “You’re quite the actress, Chloe. You secretly stopped taking the pills, got pregnant with my heir, took my fifty million, and now you want to run away with my child?” He suddenly lunged forward, locking his fingers around my throat and slamming me hard against the wardrobe. “Did you honestly think you could escape me?”

    Chloe’s POV “Let go…” He squeezed so hard my toes barely touched the floor. The air was being choked out of my lungs. I thrashed, clawing at his iron grip, my face turning purple from the lack of oxygen. Ethan watched my desperate struggle with zero mercy, his face twisted in pure, savage fury. He suddenly let go, and I collapsed to the floor like a broken rag doll, coughing violently as I scrambled to suck air back into my lungs. “When did you swap the pills?” Ethan roared, looking down at me like an angry god. “Speak!” “I…” I coughed up tears, looking up at this monster in absolute despair. “I didn’t plan this… it was an accident… I’ll leave, I won’t let the baby get in the way of you and Leilah…” “An accident?” Ethan mocked, letting out a dark laugh. “Chloe, do you think I’m an idiot? I watched you swallow those pills every single time. If you hadn’t swapped them behind my back, how could there be an accident!” He knelt down, grabbing a fistful of my hair and forcing my head back. “Did you think that getting pregnant would force me to marry you? Did you think you could use this bastard to climb over Leilah’s head?” His words were like poison-dipped daggers, tearing my soul apart. My heart was already numb. I let out a broken laugh. “Ethan, is that all I am to you? A worthless gold-digger who’d use a baby to trap you?” “What else would you be?” Ethan’s eyes filled with pure disgust. “You’re a street rat who lived off my charity. You think you’re worthy of carrying my blood? Leilah is innocent. I will never let her be humiliated by a bastard child.” The word bastard felt like a physical punch to my stomach. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my belly, shaking violently. “Ethan, the doctor said my body is too weak. If I lose this baby, I will never be able to have children again! I’m begging you, let me leave. I swear we will never show our faces in front of you again!” I begged him, literally crawling on my knees to grab the hem of his trousers. But Ethan just kicked me away, his expression cold and detached. “Whether you can have kids or not has nothing to do with me.” He casually straightened his suit, looking at me like I was trash. “I just want this threat gone.” He pulled out his phone and dialed his security team. “Bring the car around. Call Dr. Miller. Prep the OR for an abortion.” My eyes widened in pure horror. “No! I’m not going! Ethan, you can’t do this to me!” I scrambled up like a madwoman, trying to bolt for the door. But before I could make it, Ethan grabbed my hair from behind and dragged me back onto the floor. “You don’t have a choice!” He dragged me out of the penthouse like a piece of dead meat, throwing me into the back of his black Maybach. The doors clicked shut, locking automatically. The silence inside the car was suffocating. I curled up in the corner, holding my belly tight. My tears had run dry, leaving only a hollow void of despair. I clawed at the door lock, but it was completely dead. I turned to the man sitting beside me, my voice raspy. “Ethan, you will regret this. You are murdering your own child. God will punish you!” Ethan snapped his eyes open, grabbing my jaw in a crushing grip. “Shut up! Say one more word, and I’ll have the doctor rip it out of you right here in the car!” The car sped through the rainy night, finally screeching to a halt in the underground garage of the private hospital. A team of doctors and nurses was already waiting by the elevator with a gurney. The door was thrown open, and the guards dragged me out, pinning me down onto the gurney. “Let go of me! Help! Somebody help me!” I thrashed wildly, my wrists turning black and blue under their heavy grip. I was rolled straight into the operating room. The cold metal table. The blinding overhead lights. The nurses stripped my pants off, strapping my legs into the stirrups. The clinking of surgical tools echoed like a horror movie soundtrack. I saw Ethan standing in the corner of the room, dressed in sterile scrubs, watching everything with a blank face. “Mr. Vance, the patient is extremely hypertensive due to panic. If we administer general anesthesia, she might suffer cardiac arrest,” the lead surgeon reported nervously. “Then strap her down tighter. Skip the anesthesia. Do it dry,” Ethan said, his voice completely devoid of human emotion. The doctor gasped. But no one dared to defy Ethan Vance. He slowly approached the table with the metal speculum. The moment the freezing metal stretched me open, a blood-curdling scream ripped from my throat. “AHHHHHHH!” Just then, the heavy double doors of the OR were violently kicked open! “Stop! Everybody step the fuck back!” Serena burst in with four massive bodyguards, throwing the prep table over and pushing the doctor away.

    Chloe’s POV The operating room fell into absolute chaos. Serena rushed to the table. Seeing me tied down, pale as a corpse, with blood already trickling down my legs, her eyes filled with tears of pure rage. “Chloe! Oh my god, Chloe!” She frantically clawed at the leather straps binding my arms. Ethan’s eyes turned lethal. He marched over, grabbing Serena by the collar of her jacket, and threw her across the room. “Who the hell let you in here? Get out!” Serena slammed against the floor, but she scrambled up like a protective mother lion, pointing right at Ethan’s face. “Ethan Vance, you absolute monster! Are you even human?! Do you have any idea what her medical history is? Performing an abortion without anesthesia? You are literally trying to torture her to death!” “This is between me and her. It’s none of your business,” Ethan said coldly, turning back to the terrified doctors. “What are you waiting for? Keep going!” “We can’t do it! Mr. Vance, we physically cannot do it!” Dr. Miller suddenly threw himself onto his knees in front of Ethan, holding up a freshly printed blood report. “Mr. Vance, Miss Sterling’s uterine wall is too thin, and she has a rare O-negative blood type! She’s already showing signs of an active miscarriage from the struggle. If we perform a forced curettage now, she will hemorrhage. We have zero matching blood in the hospital’s bank. If she starts bleeding out, she will die!” Die. Ethan’s pupils shrank. His gaze snapped back to me on the table. I was hovering on the verge of passing out from the pain, lying there like a broken doll, blood staining the white sheets beneath my thighs. I heard him roar at the doctors. “Save her…” Ethan’s voice actually trembled, a rare crack in his armor. “Use whatever it takes. Keep her alive! If she dies, I will bury this entire hospital with her!” “Yes! Yes! Quick, get her to the ICU!” After a frantic scramble, I was wheeled into the intensive care unit. The hallway went dead silent. Because Serena’s voice was incredibly loud, I could hear her screaming at Ethan through the thick glass door. “Ethan, you keep calling her a toy. But she gave you her whole heart for three years! Are you fucking blind? You killed your own child just to keep Leilah safe. You will rot in hell for this!” But Serena didn’t know that Dr. Miller had actually been bribed by me. I was indeed O-negative, but the situation wasn’t fatal. The blood on the sheets was from a medical blood bag Dr. Miller had hidden under my gurney. It was a dangerous gamble Serena and I played to save my baby. We gambled on whether Ethan had a single shred of humanity left for me. And we won. Three days later, I was moved to a luxury VIP suite. Ethan didn’t bring up the abortion again. Instead, he turned my room into a high-security prison. Four bodyguards stood outside twenty-four hours a day. Not even a fly could get in or out. For three days, Ethan was nowhere to be seen during the day. He only showed up late at night. We didn’t exchange a single word. The silence between us was suffocating. I leaned against the headboard, staring blankly out the window. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a video from Leilah. In the video, Leilah was spinning around in front of a mirror, wearing a breathtakingly expensive wedding dress. The camera panned over to the sofa, where Ethan sat, looking at her with a gentle smile. “Ethan, do I look pretty?” Leilah’s sweet voice asked in the video. “Beautiful. You’re the most stunning bride in the world,” Ethan’s voice was deep and filled with love. The video ended. Then came a text message: Chloe, see that? Ethan loves me. He’ll get rid of that bastard in your womb sooner or later. If you’re smart, run away before I have to make you. I stared at the screen, my heart completely numb. When pain reaches its limit, you stop feeling it. I calmly deleted the video, picked up the glass of water, and swallowed my prenatal vitamins. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, and a woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform, wearing a surgical mask, pushed a cart into my room. The moment she locked the door, she pulled down her mask. It was Serena. “Chloe, everything is ready,” Serena whispered, her eyes shining with determination. “The engagement party is tomorrow. Ethan will be too busy to watch you. I got us tickets for a cargo ship leaving for international waters. Once we’re on that boat, he’ll never find us.” I touched my flat stomach, my gaze turning cold and sharp. “Okay. Tomorrow, we leave.” The night before the engagement party. The rain tapped softly against the window, bringing the chill of late autumn into the room. The door clicked open, and Ethan walked in, smelling heavily of whiskey. His coat was gone, his tie was loose, and his eyes were bloodshot. I was about to sleep. Seeing him walk in, I instinctively shrank back, my eyes filled with defensive fear. “Why are you hiding?” Ethan marched over, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. The smell of strong alcohol mixed with his expensive cologne washed over me. I looked at him coldly. “Mr. Vance is getting engaged tomorrow. With your beautiful bride waiting, why are you acting like a maniac in my room?” “Are you jealous?” Ethan let out a dark laugh, his fingers tracing my lips roughly. The desire in his eyes flared up like wildfire.

    Chloe’s POV He violently tore my hospital gown open, exposing my skin to the cold air. “Ethan, what are you doing! Let me go!” I panicked, thrashing as I shielded my stomach. “The doctor said no stress! I’ll lose the baby!” “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” Ethan ignored my pleas entirely, pinning my hands above my head as his heavy body pressed down on me. Like a starving beast, he bit down on my neck and collarbone, leaving dark, painful marks. His movements were rough, urgent, driven by a sick, possessive need. “Listen to me, Chloe,” Ethan growled in my ear as he forced himself into me, his voice raw and cruel. “Tomorrow, I marry Leilah. She will be Mrs. Vance. But you… you will always belong to me.” “Once your body heals, you are getting rid of this bastard. I’ll buy you the biggest mansion, the most expensive diamonds, and keep you for the rest of your life. I can give you everything, except my last name.” This was Ethan’s twisted logic. He wanted power, he wanted his pure socialite wife, and he wanted me as his obedient pet in the dark. He thought money and control could keep me chained to him forever like a dog. I closed my eyes, a single tear of pure humiliation sliding down my temple. Disgusting. He was absolutely disgusting. Suddenly, I stopped fighting. I let him have his way with my body. I even wrapped my arms around his neck, actively matching his rhythm. Ethan froze for a second, then his eyes flared with absolute triumph. He probably thought I had finally broken, that I was accepting my fate. “Good girl… that’s it…” He kissed the tears from my eyes, his movements growing wilder. That night, I acted like a lifeless doll, letting him use me however he pleased. I swallowed all my hatred and disgust, just to make him drop his guard. The next morning. Ethan was fully dressed in a tailored white tuxedo, looking incredibly handsome. He stood by the bed, looking down at me as I pretended to sleep, and kissed my forehead. “Wait for me to come back.” The door closed. I snapped my eyes open, bolted to the bathroom, and scrubbed my skin with cold water until it was raw and bleeding. At 10:00 AM. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed outside the suite. Ethan hadn’t let his guard down. In fact, he had doubled the security. Ten massive men in black suits completely blocked the hallway. “Mr. Vance’s orders. Not even a fly leaves this room today,” the guard captain said coldly through the door. I walked to the window, looking down. Eight floors. Jumping meant instant death. Outside the door were ten highly trained guards. A cold smile touched my lips. I pulled out the burner phone Serena had left me and sent a single text: Start the fire. Five minutes later. The hospital’s fire alarm blared through the building. Thick grey smoke began billow through the vents, and the smell of burning plastic filled the air. “Fire! Run!” “The eighth floor is on fire! Evacuate the patients!” Panic erupted outside. Even though the guards were trained, the blinding smoke and stampeding crowd threw them into chaos. Bang. The door was kicked open. Two guards rushed in to grab me, but the bed was completely empty. The bathroom door was locked. “Miss Sterling! Open up!” The guards kicked the bathroom door open, only to find my discarded hospital gown on the floor. As they searched the bathroom, I slipped out from behind the door, dressed in a nurse’s scrubs, a wig, and a surgical mask. I blended right into the screaming crowd, running down the emergency stairs without looking back. In the alley behind the hospital. An unmarked black sedan was waiting, its engine humming quietly. Gasping for breath, I burst through the back exit and threw myself into the passenger seat. Serena, wearing a baseball cap, slammed her foot on the gas, and the car shot forward like a bullet. “We did it!” Serena yelled, checking the rearview mirror to make sure no one was following before letting out a massive sigh of relief. I ripped off the wig and mask, panting heavily, my forehead soaked in sweat. I held my stomach as a dull ache throbbed in my lower abdomen from the running. “Chloe, are you okay? Does your stomach hurt?” Serena asked nervously. “I’m fine. I can make it,” I said, my face pale but my eyes burning with a wild, cold determination. “Drive to the Brooklyn Bridge.” “The Brooklyn Bridge? Aren’t we going to the harbor?” Serena was confused. “The harbor is too easy for him to check. Ethan’s network covers all of New York. The second he realizes I’m gone, he will lock down every port.” I took a deep breath, my voice freezing over. “I need him to think I’m dead. Completely destroyed.” Serena gasped, instantly realizing my plan. We had hidden a speedboat under the bridge pier beforehand. I was going to stage a fatal car crash off the bridge to cover my escape.

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  • He Stole My Surgery Money to Save Her

    Eight years ago, I lost the hearing in my right ear at a music festival. The person behind the “accident” was Chloe, my best friend. She was also the childhood sweetheart Ethan had protected since they were toddlers. After the accident, Ethan deleted all of Chloe’s contact info. He locked his piano and swore he would never play again. He never opened a single apology letter she sent. When she was banned from the music industry and fled the country, he didn’t say a single word to defend her. Since then, Ethan stayed by my side. He helped me learn lip-reading and supported me as I adapted to a world with only half its sound. I always thought he did it out of love. I thought he truly cherished me. Until the year Chloe made her comeback. She wanted to hold a solo piano concert and begged Ethan to be her special guest. I declined on Ethan’s behalf. I told her, “He hasn’t played in years. There’s no need for him to get back on stage just for you.” But Ethan suddenly laughed. As he laughed, his eyes grew red. “It’s been eight years, Summer.” “I haven’t seen her, I haven’t comforted her, and I haven’t spent a single birthday with her.” “Because of you, she’s been hiding abroad for eight years, too scared to even come home.” “You only lost the hearing in one ear.” “But she lost me.” The hearing aid in my hand slipped and crashed onto the floor. But he didn’t even blink. “I’m about to marry you. Why can’t you just let her go?” “Do you really need her to die alone in some foreign country to be satisfied?” My world was already missing half of its sound. At that moment, even the remaining half went completely dead silent. It turned out that all these years, he didn’t avoid the piano because he cared about my ears. It was because every time he touched the keys, he would think of Chloe. That night, I signed the concert contract and mailed it to Chloe’s studio. Then, I booked a one-way flight out of the country. From now on.His music, his childhood sweetheart, and his belated pity had nothing to do with me anymore.

    After mailing the contract, I didn’t go home. Instead, I went to the old recording studio registered under Ethan’s name. That was the place where he had proposed to me. Eight years ago, after I lost my hearing at that music festival, he locked this place up himself and said he would never touch the piano again. He said he was afraid that the sound of music would trigger my trauma. I believed him for eight years. But when the studio manager saw me, he didn’t look surprised at all. He familiarly greeted me, “Mrs. Miller.” My fingertips froze. The manager smiled and opened the door for me. “Mr. Miller hasn’t arrived yet. Would you like to wait inside? He comes here on the fifteenth of every month and records for the whole night.” The fifteenth of every month. The hearing aid behind my ear suddenly buzzed. The tiny static electricity made my right ear throb with pain. I pushed open the innermost music room. The piano was dusted and polished perfectly. The walls were covered with the setlist for Chloe’s comeback concert. The opening piece was titled The Return. I stared at those words for a long time. That was the piece Ethan had promised to play for me at our wedding eight years ago. He had said that once my ear recovered, he would play it for me. But my ear never recovered. And that song was never played. Yet now, it was the opening song for Chloe’s comeback concert. On the table sat a pair of custom in-ear monitors. Next to them was a tuning log. Chloe’s right ear is sensitive to high frequencies. Needs individual adjustment. Looking at those words, I suddenly wanted to laugh. My right ear had been deaf for eight years. My cheap, old hearing aid had been malfunctioning and leaking static shock for three years. I had asked Ethan if we could replace it with a better one. He told me that weddings were expensive, and asked me to just bear with it a little longer. But he remembered that Chloe’s right ear was sensitive. He remembered she hated high frequencies. He remembered to customize the most comfortable ear monitor for her. The computer next to it was still on. A folder was open on the screen. It contained hundreds of audio files. The file names were simple. For Chloe’s Insomnia. Slow Tempo for Chloe’s Birthday. Don’t Be Scared for Chloe’s Comeback. I clicked on one of the files. The moment the piano music flowed out, my right ear felt like it was being pierced by a needle. I instinctively turned down the volume of my hearing aid. At the end of the recording, Ethan’s voice was incredibly soft and low. “Don’t be scared, Chloe. I’m always here.” I glanced at the recording date. It was my birthday. That day, my ear canal had become severely inflamed from the old hearing aid. The pain kept me awake all night. I called Ethan. He told me he was in an important board meeting and told me to just take some painkillers. So, he wasn’t in a meeting. He was here, recording a soothing birthday song for Chloe. Suddenly, footsteps came from the doorway. Ethan rushed in. Seeing me standing in the cold room, his face instantly paled. He took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. When his hand brushed against my red, inflamed ear, he visibly stiffened. At that moment, I ridiculously thought he was feeling sorry for me. The next second, his eyes fell on the recording list on the screen. He immediately pushed past me and slammed the laptop shut. I stared at his back. “I thought you said you hadn’t touched a piano in eight years?” Ethan remained silent for a long time. “I just didn’t want you to hear it.” “Were you trying to save me from feeling sad,” I asked, “or were you just trying to hide the fact that you’ve been playing for her this entire time?” His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing. I asked again, “On my birthday, you told me you were in a meeting. Were you?” His eyes grew red. “Chloe had a mental breakdown that day. She said she couldn’t take it anymore.” I nodded slowly. “So my pain is something I can just ‘bear with.’” “But her crying is an absolute emergency.” He panicked, “Summer, it’s not like that.” Just then, his phone rang. Chloe’s voice leaked through the speaker. “Ethan, there’s something wrong with the speakers in the rehearsal hall. I can’t hear my own piano.” Ethan’s hand was still on my shoulder. He gripped me tightly for a split second. But in the end, he let go. “Summer, I need to check on this first. I’ll explain everything when I get back.” He grabbed the custom ear monitors. And he took the sheet music for The Return. I stood alone in the empty, silent room. Suddenly, I understood. The thing he had locked away wasn’t the piano. It was the door for me to enter his world.

    After packing my bags, I went to the hospital where I used to do my hearing rehabilitation. The doctor recognized me. His first words were, “Why did you never come back for the second-stage cochlear implant surgery?” I froze. “Ethan said the risk was too high. The success rate was less than thirty percent.” The doctor frowned. He pulled up my old medical records. The lines of text popped up on the screen. Auditory nerve damage is not completely dead. Surgery within three months offers a seventy percent chance of recovery. The surgery cost was $70,000. The person who authorized the payment: Ethan Miller. Looking at the receipt, my heart squeezed painfully. He really did want to save my hearing once. But that warmth only lasted for a few seconds. On the next page was the cancellation form. The signature at the bottom: Ethan Miller. The date of cancellation was the exact day before Chloe was about to be sued by the Music Association. The reason for cancellation read: Patient is emotionally unstable and has chosen to give up the surgery. I stared at the words “chosen to give up.” The static noise in my right ear suddenly became incredibly sharp and piercing. I had never even known this surgery existed. That year, Ethan had held me in his arms, crying and telling me his company’s cash flow had dried up. He said if I insisted on the treatment, it might ruin his startup project. I didn’t want to be a burden to him. So I comforted him instead. I told him I didn’t need it. I told him having one working ear was enough. The doctor sighed. “The hospital tried to contact your family multiple times back then. Mr. Miller kept telling us that you refused to go through with it because you couldn’t take any more stress.” I left the hospital with a copy of the records. My phone buzzed with an Instagram notification about Chloe’s comeback press conference. The headline was eye-catching: Returning After Eight Years, Still Ready to Embrace the Music. I suddenly wanted to know. Where did my $70,000 actually go? I rushed to the backstage of the press conference. Before I could even enter the dressing room, I heard Chloe’s sobbing voice from inside. “Ethan, if you hadn’t paid that $70,000 penalty fee for me back then, would I have been sued and forced out of the industry forever?” Ethan’s voice was low and quiet. “It’s in the past.” Chloe asked again, “But that money… was supposed to be for her ear surgery, wasn’t it?” The room fell dead silent. Ethan didn’t deny it. He said, “She had already lost hearing in that ear anyway. But if you were sued, your entire life would have been ruined.” “I can make it up to her slowly.” “But back then, Chloe, you only had me.” Standing outside the door, even my breathing felt heavy. So he wasn’t broke. He had just taken my surgery money to buy Chloe a fresh start. I pushed the door open. Chloe’s eyes were bright red, looking as though I had just violated her sacred peace. When Ethan saw me, the color completely drained from his face. I threw the medical bills and the cancellation form right in front of him. “$70,000.” “You didn’t lack the money back then.” “You gave me hope, and then you personally snatched it away.” Ethan opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. Chloe cried out, “I didn’t know that was her surgery money!” Ethan immediately turned to look at her, his eyes filled with reassurance. Looking at his reaction, the last spark of warmth in my chest died. I looked at him and asked, “What about me, Ethan?” “What does my ear mean to you?” Ethan’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry, Summer.” “I will find you the best doctor in the world. I promise.” I laughed. “The golden window for recovery passed years ago.” “Just like my love for you. It expired long ago.” Chloe suddenly clutched her chest, claiming she couldn’t breathe. Ethan instinctively reached out to support her. The hand he had extended toward me froze mid-air. Ultimately, it landed on Chloe’s shoulder. I didn’t wait for his explanation. I walked out of the backstage, opened my phone, and rescheduled my flight to three days later.

    On the day of Chloe’s comeback showcase, I received an address from Ethan’s assistant. He said my original copy of the concert contract was at the venue and needed to be signed in person. But when I arrived, I realized the entrance was swarming with media. On the sign-in board, my name was printed under the “Special Reconciliation Guest” section. I turned to leave. But a staff member blocked my way. “Miss Summer, Mr. Miller has already approved the schedule.” I looked at the schedule sheet. Summer takes the stage to sign the reconciliation agreement regarding the accident eight years ago. So, he had even planned my silence in advance. Backstage, Chloe was wearing a beautiful white dress, crying in front of the cameras. She claimed she had carried an unjust reputation for eight years and had finally waited for this day of justice. Ethan stood right behind her. He whispered, “Don’t be scared.” Chloe was wearing those custom ear monitors. But my cheap, old hearing aid was buzzing painfully in the chaotic noise of the venue. When Ethan spotted me, panic flashed in his eyes, and he walked over. But Chloe spoke first. “Summer, do you still refuse to forgive me?” In an instant, all the cameras turned to me. The host handed a document to me. It read: The accident eight years ago was due to equipment malfunction and had nothing to do with Chloe. I looked at Ethan. He avoided my gaze. “It’s just a formality, Summer.” “She worked so hard to come back. We can’t let the past ruin her again.” I asked him, “Then what about my ruined right ear?” He went silent. The loud murmurs of the crowd and the flashing cameras made my ear throb with intense pain. I suddenly remembered the security footage I had retrieved last night. The day before the festival eight years ago, my custom ear monitor had mysteriously gone missing. Ethan had customized it for me. He said my ears were sensitive and standard monitors would hurt me. I had been frantically searching for it backstage. Then, Chloe had walked over with a backup ear monitor. She had smiled and said, “Use this one first, otherwise Ethan’s performance will be wasted.” I had hesitated. But when Ethan rushed over, he only glanced at it briefly. He said, “Chloe is just trying to help. Get on stage first.” So, I wore it. Before I could even sing the first line, a deafening explosion of sound blasted directly into my right ear. High pitches, static feedback, and distorted noise tore through my eardrum all at once. I fell straight off the rising stage. Blood poured from my ear. I grabbed Ethan’s hand, telling him something was wrong with the monitor. His face changed. Because he saw Chloe standing in the corner. Clutched in her hand was my original custom ear monitor. She was crying, saying, “I just wanted to see what your custom monitor felt like. I didn’t know this would happen.” Ethan had clearly seen it. He knew exactly who had handed me that dangerous backup monitor. But he had turned around and shielded Chloe anyway. He said, “Let’s not make a scene out of this first.” The staff wanted to call the police. But Ethan stopped them. “She didn’t do it on purpose. A criminal record would destroy a young girl’s life.” Later, he stayed by my hospital bed. He cleaned my wounds, brought me water, and helped me practice lip-reading. I thought he finally cherished me. Until I saw that footage. In the video, Chloe had hidden my monitor in her bag. Right after the accident, Ethan had immediately taken her bag away. He told the media he was just protecting her from reporters. He didn’t miss the truth. He had simply decided, earlier than anyone else, to bury the truth for her. And now, he was pushing this reconciliation agreement in front of my face. I didn’t take the pen. Instead, right in front of all the cameras, I tore the agreement in half. The entire venue fell into dead silence. Chloe’s face turned paper-white. Tears streamed down her face. She claimed that if we didn’t reconcile today, her solo concert tomorrow would be canceled. She said she had waited eight years and couldn’t lose her stage. Ethan finally panicked. He grabbed my wrist, his voice dropping to a low, desperate whisper. “Summer, don’t make a scene here.” “You can hit me or yell at me all you want once we get home.” “Just help her this once, and I will do whatever you want in the future.” I looked at him and asked, “Is that what you thought eight years ago too?” “Protect her first, and comfort me later.” His eyes turned red instantly. But his grip on my wrist didn’t loosen. Right at that moment, a technician near the stage screamed in panic. The sound system briefly went out of control. A sharp, deafening high-frequency squeal blasted through the speakers. My right ear was hit with an explosive, agonizing pain. It felt as though the wound from eight years ago had been violently ripped open again. My vision went black, and I had to grab the microphone stand to keep from falling. When my fingers touched my ear, they came away wet with hot, fresh blood. Ethan saw it. His face turned instantly pale. He took a step toward me. For a brief, ridiculous second, a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest. Would he choose me first this time? But Chloe screamed. “Ethan, my hand!” She had knocked over a music stand near the piano, cutting a line of blood onto her right hand. She sobbed hysterically, “Ethan, my hand is bleeding!” Ethan’s steps froze.

    The high-frequency noise hadn’t completely stopped. I leaned heavily against the microphone stand as blood trickled down my neck. Ethan stared at me. For the first time, true terror flashed in his eyes. He took another step toward me. But Chloe’s cries rang out again. “Ethan, it hurts so much! Tomorrow is my concert, I can’t be ruined!” The venue fell into complete chaos. Reporters pushed forward frantically, flashing their cameras. People called for doctors; others called for security. Someone shoved a microphone right in front of my face, asking if I had intentionally caused this chaos to ruin Chloe’s comeback. I couldn’t hear them. My right ear was filled with nothing but a sharp, endless ringing. The venue’s first-aid doctor rushed over. He looked at Ethan and asked urgently, “Who do I treat first?” Ethan stood right between Chloe and me. I looked at him. Chloe clutched his sleeve, trembling and crying. “Ethan, I’m a pianist. My hands are my life.” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Finally, he spoke. “Check her hand first.” The moment those words left his mouth. The last thread of hope in my heart snapped. The doctor immediately turned to Chloe. Ethan pulled her into his arms, applying pressure to the cut on her wrist. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. I collapsed onto the floor. My old hearing aid slipped off and was instantly crushed under the shoes of the rushing reporters. The agonizing squeal in my head abruptly died. My world became completely, utterly silent. Someone stepped on the back of my hand. Someone was shouting, accusing me of driving Chloe to self-harm. Someone said I was a monster for not letting her go after eight years. Ethan turned and saw me covered in blood. His face was white as a ghost. He tried to come over. But Chloe held onto his collar tightly. “Ethan, my fingers are numb. Will I never be able to play again?” Ethan froze. In the end, he didn’t let go of her. As he passed by me, his footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. “I’ll have my assistant take you to the hospital.” I looked up at him. He avoided my eyes. Chloe buried her face in his chest. He added, “She’s a pianist. Her hands can’t have any scars.” I suddenly smiled. Eight years ago, my ear was on the line. But he chose to protect her reputation. Eight years later, my ear was bleeding again. But he chose to protect her hand. When the ambulance arrived, they took Chloe first. Ethan got in with her. Before the door closed, he turned and called my name. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t hear him anyway. And I didn’t want to. Another ambulance brought me to the hospital. When I woke up, the room smelled heavily of disinfectant. My right ear was wrapped in thick gauze. On the bedside table lay the crushed pieces of my hearing aid. The nurse told me my ear canal was bleeding and I needed to stay for observation. She also mentioned that a Mr. Miller had called dozens of times, asking if I was awake. I didn’t call back. I reached for my phone and emailed the digital copy of our separation agreement to my lawyer. Then, I called the airline and changed my flight from tomorrow morning to tonight. I changed out of the hospital gown. I slipped off the engagement ring. I put the ring and the broken pieces of the hearing aid into an envelope. On the front, I wrote: To Ethan. Half an hour later, Ethan rushed to the hospital. He ran to the nurse’s station. “Where is Summer’s room?” The nurse handed him the envelope. “Miss Summer has already checked out.” “She said… not to look for her.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “436170”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

  • No More Saving My Romance-Obsessed Roommate

    My roommate, Chloe, was completely obsessed with cheesy romance novels. On our very first day as roommates, she curled up on the couch, clutching her phone with glowing eyes, and said, “Look! In all the trending stories now, the female lead leaves her front door unlocked at night, and the hot male lead accidentally wanders in. It’s love at first sight!” So, she decided to leave our apartment door unlocked every single night. I warned her multiple times, but she just waved her hand and laughed. “You don’t get it, Harper. Real love always starts with a beautiful accident.” In my past life, I stopped trying to argue with her. But the “accident” did come. A man wearing a black baseball cap pushed our unlocked door open and walked right in. Chloe was working overtime and wasn’t home that night. The man couldn’t find her, but he found the fresh cash and the laptop on my desk. I woke up in terror only to feel a cold blade pressed against my neck, forcing me to give him my PayPal password. I gave it to him. But he slit my throat anyway. The last thing I heard before I died was his muttered curse: “What kind of idiot leaves their front door wide open these days?” Then, I opened my eyes again. I was back to our first day of renting the apartment. Chloe was holding her phone right in front of my face, pointing at a paragraph. “Look, Harper! The female lead only found her thrilling, dangerous romance because she left her door open!”

    Chloe shook my hand, her face full of starry-eyed delusion. “Harper, we should stop locking the door from now on! Just leave it on a crack every night!” “I’m definitely going to find my own thrilling, break-in kind of love!” The sudden shaking snapped me out of my trance. I gasped, quickly pulling my hand back and touching my neck. In my past life, Chloe was brainwashed by those trashy romance books. She constantly fantasized about some gorgeous stranger breaking in and starting a passionate, life-changing love story with her. I had tried to tell her it was all fiction. The person breaking in wouldn’t be a charming prince; he would be a predator. But she wouldn’t listen. Every night after I locked up, she would sneak out and unlock the door, leaving it slightly open. Every morning when I found the door unlocked, I would confront her. But the next night, she would do it again. Then came that horrific night. A man broke in. He ransacked the place. I woke up, got held at knifepoint, gave him my passwords, and was murdered in cold blood. Chloe didn’t return until the next morning. Seeing my lifeless body, she cried and called the police. But in front of the neighbors and the cops, she sobbed, “I just wanted to find love. Harper knew I was working overtime, yet she didn’t lock the door properly. She only has herself to blame!” Thinking of this, I rubbed my neck again. I could almost still feel the phantom pain of the blade slicing through my flesh. Seeing the grim expression on my face, Chloe pouted, looking annoyed. “What’s with the attitude, Harper? I just want to find love. What’s wrong with that?” I didn’t waste my breath on her. I stood up, walked to the front door, shut it hard, and turned the deadbolt. Chloe instantly flipped out and jumped off the couch. “Why did you lock it?! How is my soulmate supposed to get in if you lock the door?!” “How can you be so heartless? You’re literally ruining my chance at true love!” I stared at her, my face completely expressionless. “Your fantasy love shouldn’t be built on my safety.” “If you want to put your life on the line, go ahead. But don’t drag me down with you.” With that, I grabbed my keys, walked into my bedroom, and locked the door behind me. Lying on my bed, I ignored her loud banging on my door. I immediately unlocked my phone and started searching for new apartments. I needed to move out. Fast. Outside, Chloe’s whining continued. “Harper, you have no right to stop me from finding my destiny! Just because you’re single and lonely doesn’t mean you can ruin things for me!” “Besides, you have no looks and no money. Even if a bad guy did break in, he wouldn’t even look at you!” I was speechless. Did this girl have nothing but romance in her brain? Did she have zero concept of basic safety for women living alone? The real estate agent replied quickly on WhatsApp: “Hi Miss Harper, I’ve found a great place for you. We can do a viewing tomorrow.” I texted back: “No roommates. I want to rent the whole place. How’s the security?” The agent replied instantly: “Guaranteed. The building has 24/7 security guards. It’s a smart lock—only your fingerprint will be registered. Plus, there’s a police precinct right across the street.” Relieved, I started packing my bags. The next morning, I dragged my suitcase out of my room and ran into Chloe, who was about to head out. Seeing my heavy bags, her eyes instantly turned red. “What is this, Harper? Are you abandoning me?” I looked at her coldly. “Where I live is my business. It has nothing to do with you.” She blocked the doorway, refusing to let me pass. Then she pulled out her phone and called our landlord, Mason. “Mason! Harper is trying to move out early and break the lease! You need to come over right now!”

    Mason arrived quickly, clutching a spare set of keys, sweating slightly. He looked at my suitcase, then at the tearful Chloe. He frowned. “Harper, you signed a one-year lease. You paid a security deposit and the first month’s rent.” “If you leave so suddenly, how am I supposed to find a tenant to replace you? Chloe is just a young girl. Do you expect her to pay the entire rent by herself?” I opened the digital contract on my phone and showed him the clause. “According to the lease, if I terminate early, I forfeit my security deposit as a penalty. I am willing to pay that, Mason.” Mason paced around the living room with his hands behind his back and sighed. “Why are young people always so impulsive? Sure, Chloe’s ideas are a bit naive, but you guys are roommates. Can’t you just talk it out? She didn’t mean any harm…” My voice went ice-cold. “She didn’t mean any harm? She’s waiting for a literal burglar to walk in!” “Mason, someone tried to pry open the security door of this building last night. The property management posted a warning in the WhatsApp group. If she keeps leaving the door unlocked, she’s not going to get a boyfriend. She’s going to get us killed!” Hearing this, Chloe’s tears flowed even faster, looking like the ultimate victim. “Stop cursing me! I looked up safety tips online! If I only leave the door open a crack, bad guys can’t get in!” I laughed out of sheer frustration. “So you’re saying only ‘good guys’ can fit through a cracked door? Are you insane?” “Stop reading those trashy novels. They’ve rotted your brain.” Just then, the front door of the apartment next door opened. Our neighbor, Rachel, poked her head out, looking curious. “What’s all the noise so early in the morning? Is Chloe upset again?” Seeing Rachel, Chloe ran toward the door like she had found a savior. “Rachel! Harper is moving out, and she’s mocking my dreams!” Rachel let herself in, patting Chloe’s back to comfort her while giving me a disapproving look. “Harper, Chloe is just a sweet, naive girl. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Her parents aren’t around, so as her roommate, you should be a bit more understanding.” “Rachel, she leaves the front door unlocked every single night. If a criminal comes in and robs or assaults us, will she take responsibility?” “What is wrong with me wanting to protect my own life?” Rachel choked on her words, looking embarrassed. “Well… nothing has happened yet. Our neighborhood has been pretty safe for years, hasn’t it?” I let out a cold laugh. “Once something happens, it’ll be too late.” Chloe sobbed louder, her tears dripping onto the hardwood floor. She grabbed her phone, opened our building’s Snapchat group chat, and started typing furiously. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed repeatedly. Over a dozen notifications popped up. Chloe had posted a picture of me standing by the door with my suitcase, along with a message: “My roommate Harper is moving out just because I don’t lock the door at night. She’s even cursing me, saying our place will get robbed! She says I’m delusional and don’t deserve love. Am I really the bad guy here?” The group chat immediately exploded with replies. “I know Chloe. She’s a sweet girl, just a bit of a romantic.” “Leaving the door unlocked isn’t great, but moving out over it? That’s a bit dramatic.” “Young people have no tolerance these days. Roommates need to compromise.” “Harper is overreacting. She made Chloe cry. How heartless.” I stared at the screen, my fingers turning cold. In my past life, they saw my brutalized corpse, yet they only pitied Chloe for being “traumatized.” A few tears from her, and she became everyone’s darling.

    Rachel stood in the center of the living room, acting like a self-appointed mediator. “See, Harper? Everyone in the group chat thinks you’re overreacting. Chloe is just a young girl with romantic fantasies. You’re older, you should be the bigger person.” Mason tossed his keys onto the coffee table, his tone turning stern. “Harper, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you. You’ll pay the penalty. But do you really have to paint Chloe as some kind of accomplice to murder before you go?” “A bad guy? I’ve lived in this building for ten years. It’s perfectly safe.” I looked at Mason, dead serious. “So because the odds are low, you think I should gamble my life with her?” “If someone actually breaks in, you guys will be sleeping soundly while I’m the one bleeding out on the floor.” Chloe snapped her head up, her eyes red. “Who are you calling dead? How can you be so vicious, Harper? I told you a hundred times, I only leave it open a crack! Bad guys can’t get in through that! Why do you keep cursing me?” She grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and threw it at me. It missed and hit the wall. Rachel quickly held her back. “Okay, okay, calm down.” I bent down, picked up the pillow, and placed it back on the couch. I didn’t even look at her. “I just want to stay safe. Is that a crime?” “Chase your ridiculous break-in fantasy all you want. But do not leave the door open so a predator can walk right past my bedroom.” Mason frowned, silent for a long moment before pulling out a cigarette. After a minute, he seemed to make a decision. “Alright, Harper. Don’t rush to move out. Let’s handle this contract properly.” “Give me one week. Once I find a new tenant, we’ll sign the lease termination, and I’ll refund your deposit in full. If I can’t find anyone, you stay for one more month while I keep looking. Deal?” Hearing this, Chloe immediately started crying again. “Mason! You’re not taking my side either? You’re going to make me change too?” Mason waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not taking sides. I just want some peace! Chloe, you do need to stop this door-unlocking nonsense. If someone actually gets in, crying won’t save you.” Chloe bit her lip and stayed silent, tears trembling on her eyelashes. Rachel chimed in: “Harper, Mason made a huge compromise. If you still refuse, you’re just being difficult. Everyone has roommate conflicts. You can’t just ruin someone’s life over one minor disagreement.” I looked at Mason. His expression made it clear that this wasn’t a request; it was an ultimatum. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Deep down, they didn’t think Chloe was doing anything dangerous. They just thought the drama was annoying. I thought about it. Finding a place and moving takes time. I could wait a week. I let go of my suitcase and nodded. “Fine. Seven days.” “But I have one condition.” “I am installing a deadbolt lock on my bedroom door, and I will lock it from the inside every night.” “If the front door is left unlocked or open again, I won’t warn anyone. I will call the police immediately. If anything happens during these seven days, it is not my responsibility.” Mason frowned. “Do you have to be so cold? You guys live together. Calling the police?” “Yes.” Rachel scoffed, pulling Chloe toward the kitchen. She whispered, “Whatever, let her lock herself in. A few days and she’ll get over herself.” That night, I installed a heavy-duty chain lock on the inside of my bedroom door. I tested it three times to ensure it couldn’t be forced open from the outside. I also locked my laptop and cash inside my desk drawer and set up an emergency speed-dial on my phone’s home screen. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I rubbed my neck, feeling the phantom blade. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

    The next few days were strangely quiet. Chloe went to work during the day and spent her evenings glued to her phone on the couch, completely ignoring me. I didn’t speak to her either. We coexisted like ghosts. Mason did come by every night around nine. He would knock on the door, check the lock on the front door, and leave only after making sure it was secure. Meanwhile, the building’s Snapchat group chat was full of gossip about me. “That Harper in 702 is such a drama queen. She’s making sweet Chloe’s life a living hell.” Someone even tagged me, telling me to “stop bullying a young girl.” I ignored every single message. On the fifth day, Mason called to tell me he had found a new tenant who would move in over the weekend. On the sixth day, I breathed a sigh of relief. I scheduled the movers for Saturday morning. Friday night. I packed all my important documents and cash into my backpack and placed it under my pillow. I plugged my phone in, fully charged, right next to me. Before going to sleep, I double-checked my bedroom door, making sure the lock was turned all the way. At 2:00 AM, I woke up. A sliver of light was coming through my bedroom door. It was open. The moonlight from the living room was spilling onto my floor. A cold sweat broke out across my back. I had locked the door. I had installed a new lock. The only key was supposed to be under my pillow. I reached under my pillow. The key was gone. Then it hit me. I had left my jacket in the living room this afternoon, and my keys were in the pocket. Chloe had taken them. I held my breath and grabbed my phone. Just as the screen lit up, the door was pushed wide open. A man in a black baseball cap stepped into my room, a folding knife open in his hand. Seeing that I was awake, he paused for a second, then let out a low chuckle. “You’re awake.” I gripped my phone tightly, my thumb frantically tapping the emergency speed-dial without looking. The phantom pain on my neck flared up violently. “Where’s the money?” He pointed the blade at me. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “The backpack under my pillow. There’s about two thousand dollars in cash. My laptop is in the desk drawer. You can take it all.” He walked over, grabbed the backpack, and quickly checked the cash. He stuffed it into his pockets, then pulled the laptop from the drawer, tucking it under his arm. Everything was going so smoothly that he let his guard down. But as he turned to leave, my phone suddenly rang. He looked down at my screen. It was an incoming FaceTime call from Chloe. He looked at me, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. “Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I swiped the screen. “Chloe? What are you doing?” “Hey, Harper! Is there a guy in your room right now?” My face went cold. “Did you do this? Are you insane?!” Chloe’s voice came through the speaker, dripping with twisted excitement. “Hey, handsome! My roommate isn’t bad-looking, and she’s got a great body!” “Don’t be picky! She’s always lecturing me about how real romance doesn’t exist. Why don’t you show her what ‘destiny’ feels like tonight?” The intruder froze for a second, then burst into a crude laugh. He turned back to me. “Wow. Your roommate is pretty generous.” “Chloe!” I screamed, my voice shaking. “You unlocked the door just so a robber could ‘gift’ me a fantasy?” The line went quiet for two seconds before Chloe spoke up, completely self-righteous: “Harper, don’t be ungrateful! I wanted this destiny for myself, but since you’ve been so mean to me lately, I decided to let you have him! You don’t have to thank me!” The man laughed out loud, shoved my phone into his pocket, and stepped toward my bed. “Well, since your roommate put in a good word for you, it would be rude of me to leave without having some fun, wouldn’t it?” My fingers finally managed to hit the emergency SOS button on my smartwatch. The moment the call connected, I screamed the address at the top of my lungs: “7 Oak Street, Apartment 702! Armed robbery! Help me!” The man’s expression changed instantly. He lunged at me to grab my wrist. I rolled off the bed, pulling the heavy duvet over myself to block him. He grabbed my ankle and dragged me back, my knee slamming hard against the bed frame. “You bitch! You called the cops?! Now you’re dead!” “I was gonna let you live, but you asked for this!” The cold blade pressed against my neck, just like in my past life, cutting a thin line into my skin. I felt a warm trickle of blood. I fought with everything I had, but my strength was nothing against a grown man. My muscles began to give out. Was it going to end the same way again? I closed my eyes, ready to accept the inevitable. Suddenly, the bedroom door was kicked off its hinges. Three police officers stormed in, their flashlights and firearms aimed directly at him. “Police! Drop the knife! Get on the ground now!”

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  • My Reserved Seat is No Longer Yours

    I have a habit. Whenever I eat, watch a movie, or take a cab, I always leave an empty seat next to me. I used to believe that Austin would suddenly show up in my city and give me a surprise. But during our three years of long-distance relationship, he never came. Not once. So, I ended up doing everything alone—trying on wedding dresses, booking the venue, running myself ragged until my body finally broke down. With trembling hands, I sent him a Snapchat message. [I have a fever. It’s 102°F, and I don’t have any medicine at home.] He didn’t reply until half an hour later. [And?] [What do you want me to do, grow wings and fly over to drop off some Tylenol?] [I’m still reviewing a project proposal. Just order something on UberEats.] My fever was so high that I couldn’t even lift my fingers. I drifted into unconsciousness. When I woke up, my best friend, Chloe, was sitting by my bed with red eyes, holding a glass of warm water and medicine. “He’s only taking advantage of how understanding you are,” she said softly. “If it were me, I would have thrown a tantrum long ago.” Two weeks later, Chloe also came down with a high fever. I wanted to rush over to take care of her. But then, she posted a photo on Ins. It was a close-up of a man’s hand holding a spoon. [Sick during the season change. Thank God my knight in shining armor flew across three time zones overnight just to make me dinner.] I couldn’t have mistaken that hand. On Austin’s wrist was the luxury watch I had saved up half a year’s salary to buy him. At that moment, it hit me. The empty seat beside me wasn’t vacant because he couldn’t make it. It was because he simply didn’t want to. Since that was the case, keeping that seat open for him would just be foolish.

    Holding a bag of medicine, I stood outside the door of Chloe’s apartment. The door wasn’t fully closed. Inside, Chloe’s nasal, congested laughter drifted out. “You flew back overnight? What about the NYC project? Are you really planning to stay in L.A. for good?” Austin replied without a second of hesitation. “I don’t care about the project anymore.” “I couldn’t focus knowing you were here having a fever alone. I’ve already applied for a transfer back to the L.A. branch. No more long-distance for us.” Chloe’s tone was playful. “If Elena finds out, won’t she be thrilled to death?” “I only care about your happiness.” My fingernails dug into the plastic handles of the bag, leaving bloodless white marks on my skin. Three years ago, holding my mother’s critical illness notice, I had grabbed his sleeve and begged him to stay. I asked him if we could not do long-distance. He had packed his suitcase and walked out without looking back. “Elena, you know how crucial this promotion is for my career. I’m doing this for our future. Be mature.” The night he chased his bright future, my mother passed away. I shook and cried alone in an empty house. Over the past three years, I had suggested ending the long distance countless times. I was even willing to compromise, to give up my career in L.A. just to move to NYC for him. But he rejected me every single time. “The cost of living in New York is too high. If you move here, you’ll only drag down my progress.” “Stop trying to hold back my career with your emotional insecurity.” But his precious career and future suddenly became worthless when Chloe got a common cold. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Austin was sitting by the bed, holding a bowl of warm soup. The moment he saw me, his brows knitted together. “What are you doing here?” I placed the bag of medicine on the nightstand. “I came to see Chloe. And, of course, to see the knight who flew across three time zones.” Chloe quickly waved her hands in panic. “Elena, please don’t blame Austin. My fever was just so high last night, and I complained to him on Snapchat.” “I didn’t expect him to leave his work and fly back. If it bothers you, I can tell him to leave right now.” Austin’s face darkened. “You’re this sick. Why should I leave?” He set the bowl down, his expression completely unapologetic. “Elena, stop being so passive-aggressive.” “Chloe is your best friend. She had a 102-degree fever. Did you expect me to just let her rot in this apartment alone?” I looked at the seafood chowder in the bowl. It was a recipe I had spent half a month perfecting, writing down every single step on a sticky note to teach him. He had complained that takeout chowder never tasted right. And now, he was using the recipe I taught him to nurture another woman. “I also had a 102-degree fever two weeks ago,” I said quietly. “You told me to use UberEats.” Austin’s eyes flickered with a brief moment of guilt. “But you got through it fine on your own, didn’t you?” “Chloe is different from you. She isn’t as independent as you are. Are you seriously getting jealous of your own best friend?” Suddenly, I found my past self—the girl who had desperately messaged him for help—utterly pathetic. A self-mocking smile crept onto my lips. Seeing me smile, his expression relaxed, looking relieved. “Good, now that you’ve smiled, let’s put this behind us. Don’t bring it up again.” “I’ve already applied to transfer back to L.A., so we won’t be apart anymore. You got what you wanted. Chloe just said she wanted some macarons from the boutique bakery downtown. Go grab some for her.” I turned and walked out. My phone vibrated in my pocket. [Hi Ms. Elena, the wedding dress you fell in love with has arrived in our boutique. When would you like to come in for a fitting?] [No need. Please cancel the order and process a refund.] I used to think long-distance relationship was just a long queue. As long as I kept the seat next to me empty and waited patiently, he would eventually sit down. Now I realized that a flight from NYC to L.A. only took six hours. It wasn’t that he couldn’t come back. He had just changed his destination long ago. There was no point in waiting anymore.

    I didn’t go buy the macarons. Instead, I went straight back to my apartment and started packing. I threw the toothbrush, the dark grey towel, and the rinsing cup on the vanity straight into the trash can. No matter which apartment I moved to, I always kept a double set of daily essentials. I had always hoped he would suddenly show up in L.A. and surprise me. So I stubbornly left half of my space empty for him. Now he was back, but the surprise wasn’t for me. Austin didn’t come home that night. Chloe posted another update on Ins. [The best perk of being sick is having someone watch a 2 A.M. movie with you.] The picture showed a projector screen, with the side profile of a man looking focused and gentle. The movie was the one I had wanted to watch for a long time. I had mentioned it to Austin a thousand times, but he always dismissed it as boring. I gave her post a “like.” Three minutes later, a message from Austin popped up. [Get ready and come downstairs. Today is Grandma’s 80th birthday gala. I’ll pick you up on the way to the estate.] According to our original plan, today was also the day we were supposed to officially announce our engagement to his family. When I walked down, Chloe was already sitting in the passenger seat. She was holding a steaming latte, while her other hand played with a spare key to Austin’s apartment. On the keychain was a lucky charm I had personally woven for him. It was now stained with coffee. She turned to me with a sweet smile. “Hey El, you don’t mind me hitching a ride, do you?” Austin played a French song Chloe liked on the car stereo. “Chloe just got over her fever, and I didn’t feel safe leaving her alone. I figured taking her to the family estate would help her get some fresh air.” “Besides, she’s still weak from being sick.” “You sit in the back.” Half an hour later, we arrived at the estate. Chloe couldn’t wait to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Oh my god, I can already smell the delicious food!” She naturally walked up to Austin’s side, and they walked in shoulder to shoulder. I walked behind them like an irrelevant assistant. In the living room, the matriarch of the family was sitting on the sofa. “Austin, bring your girl over to let Grandma have a look.” Chloe walked up gracefully. “Happy birthday, Grandma.” The old lady smiled and patted her hand. “This must be the sweet girl Austin brought home last Christmas, right?” “So beautiful. No wonder Austin loves you so much.” Several relatives who actually knew me looked at each other, their eyes turning toward me in unison. I picked up my teacup and took a sip of warm water. Last Christmas, I was alone in L.A., staring at a table of cold Christmas dinner. Austin had told me over FaceTime that there was a massive issue with his project, and the entire team had to pull an all-nighter at the office. It turned out his “all-nighter” was bringing Chloe back to meet his family. The old lady slipped a stunning sapphire bracelet off her wrist and put it directly onto Chloe’s. “This is a gift from Grandma.” “Grandma… I couldn’t possibly accept this. You’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Chloe said, but her hand didn’t make any move to take the bracelet off. Austin leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Elena, let Chloe wear the bracelet for now. I’ll ask her to give it back to you after the party.” “Be mature. Don’t throw a fit today.” I shook my head. “No need to return it.” Austin froze, a flash of approval in his eyes. “I’m glad you see it that way. It actually looks quite nice on Chloe. I’ll buy you a new one some other day.” I put down my teacup. The tea was Earl Grey, Chloe’s favorite. Even Austin’s grandmother remembered her preference. While this was my first time entering the family estate, Chloe had already been here countless times. “Since you’ve given her the bracelet, let her keep it.” I looked at him calmly. “Austin, let’s break up.”

    The smile on Austin’s face vanished instantly. “Just because of a bracelet? Elena, when did you become so incredibly petty?” “Yes, just because of a bracelet.” Chloe immediately started frantically trying to pull the bracelet off. “Elena, please don’t be mad. I’m taking it off right now. You two have been together for nine years, you can’t let it ruin your relationship because of me.” She pulled so hard that her wrist turned bright red, and tears welled up in her eyes. Austin grabbed her hand to stop her. “Why are you taking it off? You did nothing wrong.” “Chloe is still recovering. Do you have to humiliate her in front of everyone, Elena?” I couldn’t stand being there for another second. I turned and walked out. Behind me, whispers echoed through the hall. “She has such a terrible temper.” “Exactly. Men sometimes play around, she should just turn a blind eye.” Chloe spoke in a worried voice, “Austin, go after her. Elena is acting out of anger, what if something happens to her?” Austin sneered. “We’ve been together for nine years. She’s a thirty-year-old woman. Who else is going to take her in if not me?” He raised his voice so I could hear him. “If some people want to play hard to get, then our wedding date will just have to be pushed back even further.” The wedding boutique manager sent me a photo of the dress to confirm. [Ms. Elena, the deposit is non-refundable. You came in so many times for this. Are you sure you don’t want it anymore?] I stared at the screen for a long time. I had tried on seventeen wedding dresses in that shop all by myself. Every single photo I sent to Austin was met with a cold, automated reply: [Busy. You decide.] It turned out that one person’s expectation could never carry a future meant for two. [Cancel it,] I replied. The next morning, I went to work. A transfer notice was sitting on my desk. [Given Elena’s recent poor performance, she is being transferred to the administrative support team.] Right after, an announcement was posted in the company group chat: Chloe had been promoted to Senior Account Manager. Along with that, the project proposal I had spent seven sleepless nights and fifteen drafts perfecting now bore Chloe’s name as the lead. At the very bottom of the document, the approver’s signature was Austin’s. I called Austin immediately. “Saw the notice? I was just about to call you,” he said. “Austin, why is Chloe’s name on my proposal?” He chuckled softly. “You embarrassed Chloe at Grandma’s birthday party yesterday. She cried all night because of you.” “Giving her this project is to comfort her, and also to give you a little lesson.” Chloe’s congested voice came through the speaker. “Elena, if you’re unhappy about this, I can give the promotion back to you.” Austin cut her off. “Why would you give it back? She brought this on herself.” “Elena, as long as you behave and apologize to Chloe, the wedding is still on.” “I’ll make sure you get the next promotion slot.” I found it incredibly absurd. He was using my hard work to please another woman. I simply said, “Okay.” After hanging up, I submitted my resignation and clicked “accept” on an international job offer in Paris.

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  • The Viral Video From 2030 Saved My Life

    I had just transferred the hard-earned money from my fifth side hustle to my boyfriend, Ethan, when a viral video popped up on my Instagram feed. It was a grand proposal that was breaking the internet. The sheer luxury of the setup was breathtaking. On screen, a man knelt on one knee, tears glistening in his eyes. “I regret so much that I didn’t confess my feelings to you before we went to study abroad. We let other people get in our way for so many years.” I sighed, thinking it was just another beautiful love story, and was about to swipe away. But then the camera panned. The man’s face came into full view. It was Ethan. And the girl crying tears of joy opposite him was my younger sister, Chloe. The only difference was that they both looked a bit more mature, a bit older. My eyes darted to the background banner. It read: “July 2030.” This was Ethan… four years into the future. Suddenly, a cold realization washed over me. Ethan’s stubborn insistence on going to London to study with Chloe wasn’t for my sake. It was never about me. Just then, two calls came in simultaneously—one from my supervisor at my next gig, and another from Chloe demanding her monthly allowance. I declined both. If they were meant to be, it would be extremely impolite of me to keep getting in their way.

    On screen, Chloe sobbed out a tearful “Yes,” and the crowd erupted into cheers. Live streamers rushed forward, shoving microphones into their faces. I clicked into the most popular live stream. “Mr. Miller, it seems your journey with your fiancé wasn’t easy. Would you mind sharing your story with our viewers?” “Yes, please! Everyone in the chat is dying to know!” Ethan offered a gentle, practiced smile and wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist. “Chloe, her older sister Nora, and I… we grew up in the foster care system together,” Ethan began softly. “Actually, I’ve always loved Chloe. But I never expected Nora to confess to me first. To protect the sisters’ relationship, I had to bottle up my feelings.” “I wanted to tell Nora so many times that I didn’t love her. But during our years studying abroad, she wouldn’t let go. She kept obsessively transferring money to us, trying to use financial guilt to keep us apart.” I stared at the screen, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from Ethan’s mouth. When Chloe graduated high school and wanted to go to a top-tier college in London, I didn’t hesitate. I told her to focus entirely on her studies, promising I would handle the money. Ethan had held my hands back then, begging me, “Nora, you know my degree won’t get me a good job here. I need to go to London with Chloe to build a better future. I’m doing this for our future family.” Since then, I had been working three regular jobs and countless side hustles, barely sleeping. I was terrified they would starve or feel less than their peers abroad. Ethan had promised he would marry me the moment he graduated. And now, all my sacrifices were reduced to “obsessive harassment” in his narrative. The live chat was absolutely ruthless. “What a toxic psychopath! She didn’t even try to improve her own life, but wanted to drag down two successful people.” “Thank God true love won in the end.” Ethan glanced at the rolling chat, a satisfied smirk flashing across his face before he turned to the crowd. “Alright, everyone. I have a special surprise for Chloe.” With a wave of his hand, the giant LED screen behind them began playing a video compilation. “Ethan Miller will definitely marry Chloe Evans one day.” In the video, a teenage Ethan wore his high school jacket, the silver necklace I had bought him with my first summer job check still hanging around his neck. The scene cut to a beaming Ethan. “We graduated! Chloe and I got into the same college program. We’re going to be together every single day!” My chest felt hollow, like my heart had been ripped out. When we were applying for colleges, my grades were good enough for a top university in a major city. But Ethan had begged me to choose a local community college to study nursing so I could get a job quickly. “You need to start earning ASAP to fund Chloe’s grad school,” he had argued. “After all, you’re her only family. Don’t worry, I’ll apply to a school in the same city as you.” But when the admission letters came, he and Chloe were accepted to a university in a completely different state. He told me it was a computer system error. The video kept playing. “Today is Chloe’s 23rd birthday. I can’t wait to give her this gift. I don’t have much money right now, so I could only get her this simple thing. But once I make it big, I’ll give her the world.” In his hand was a Chanel handbag—the exact luxury bag I had stared at through the glass display window during my shifts, never daring to touch. Her 23rd birthday was the day after tomorrow. I had just worked five grueling shifts back-to-back, sending him $5,000 to cover his “rent crisis,” only for him to spend it instantly on a “simple” designer bag for my sister. My body shook uncontrollably. Tears hot as fire rolled down my cheeks and splattered onto the back of my hand. I opened Snapchat and pulled up my chat with Ethan. “Ethan, are you really going to marry me?” After what felt like an eternity, a bubble popped up. “Don’t overthink things, babe.” Before I could type a reply, another message flashed on my screen. “When are you transferring Chloe’s allowance for this month?”

    Of course. The only reason he even replied to me was because Chloe needed money. “I won’t be sending any more money for your living expenses. Ever.” After I sent that, the chat went dead silent. Suddenly, my phone rang. I answered, and the faint, whiny voice of a girl in the background grated on my nerves. I was about to hang up when Ethan’s voice came through the receiver. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you?” “Thank you for everything.” “Actually, I bought you a gift. It should be arriving today.” My hardened heart softened just a tiny bit. After hanging up, I went down to the lobby with a flicker of hope to retrieve the package. It was a cheap, poorly crocheted bag. The kind you could buy on eBay for five dollars. Holding the cheap yarn in my hands, I couldn’t even bring myself to be angry anymore. Right at this moment, he was probably using my hard-earned cash at a high-end boutique, picking out a luxury designer purse for Chloe. In the past, I would have immediately snap-chatted him a picture, telling him how much I loved it. But I was done acting. I dialed my manager’s number. “Hey, Mr. Davies. I’m accepting the transfer to the London branch. I’m ready to relocate permanently.” Within an hour, I signed the digital contract on the company portal and booked a one-way flight. Once everything was set, I couldn’t help but look back at the live stream to see how my “future” played out. The screen showed them in different outfits now. The venue had shifted to a stunning historic castle, with a massive multi-tiered cake standing in the center. “On July 5th, 2026, you finally became mine,” Ethan said into the microphone, looking passionately at Chloe. “From that very moment, I swore to myself that I would work myself to the bone to make sure you’d never suffer again.” I let out a bitter laugh. July 5th. That was my birthday. “So, I did everything I could to make money. And thank God, I can finally give you the home of your dreams.” My mind flashed back to the summer after high school graduation. I had gotten tipsy on cheap beer, crying about how exhausted I was and how much I just wanted a place to belong. Ethan had held me tight, whispering, “I’m going to build a home for us, Nora. I promise.” I had only ever seen him as a supportive friend from foster care, but from that night on, I fell hopelessly in love with him. “Ding.” A text popped up on my phone. “Nora, you really need to transfer Chloe’s allowance soon.” “I know it’s tough on you, but she’s your only sister.” “She’s literally starving here, surviving on cheap burgers because we have no cash.” The texts kept rolling in, one after another. My chest felt suffocated. They were complaining to me about being broke? When they first moved, Ethan complained that the dorms were too noisy and cramped, demanding to rent a luxury apartment off-campus. I spent my nights doing Uber Eats deliveries in torrential downpours just to pay his security deposit. Even when a car clipped my bike and left me with a hairline fracture, I didn’t complain once. When Chloe whined that walking to class made her legs hurt and begged for a Vespa, I washed dishes until my hands cracked and bled, never saying a word. I had only one thought back then: “My sister and my boyfriend love me. They are my family. I have to take care of them.” “Why aren’t you replying? Are you sick?” “Should I order some medicine to your place through DoorDash?” Ethan’s messages flooded my screen. I didn’t reply to a single one. On the live stream, the romantic speech reached its climax. “Fortunately, after Nora went completely delusional, claiming we betrayed her, she had a massive psychological breakdown and had to be committed to a mental facility.” “Even God was on our side.” Hearing those words, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my chest. I could barely breathe. Ethan’s messages were still flashing on my phone. I opened the chat. “Ethan, you don’t have to marry me anymore.” “And I don’t want to marry you, either.”

    He didn’t reply. On the screen, the host was asking Ethan about my commitment to the mental facility. The viewers in the chat seemed thrilled to see the “villain” who tried to ruin true love finally get her karma. Ethan cleared his throat, speaking with a sigh of mock pity. “After graduation, Chloe and I tried to distance ourselves from her.” “Normally, anyone with an ounce of self-respect would have taken the hint. But instead, she kept calling, demanding to know when we were coming home.” Chloe took the microphone, putting on a victim act. “Yeah, she was shameless. She wouldn’t leave Ethan alone. We didn’t want to humiliate her publicly, so we just stopped visiting.” “But then she actually tracked us down near our campus. She started telling our classmates that she had been funding our lives for years and that we had abandoned her.” “She made us look like ungrateful monsters. For a long time, we couldn’t even hold our heads up in front of our friends.” Chloe wiped away a stray tear. Ethan wrapped an arm around her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “She wanted to use financial leverage to make us feel guilty, but I didn’t give her the chance. I flat out told her that Chloe and I were together.” “I told her that we had already crossed that line, and we were officially a couple.” “I guess her fragile mind couldn’t take it. She just… snapped.” Someone in the crowd yelled, “She went crazy because she couldn’t have you!” Ethan remained silent, but a faint, mocking smirk played at the corner of his lips. I knew that smirk. Back in high school, when he fought off three bullies at the school gate for me, wiping blood from his lip, he had warned them: “Touch Nora again, and I’ll end you.” He had that exact same arrogant smirk on his face. But back then, I thought he was my protector. Tears were streaming down my face now. In my memory, he had always been a good guy. In foster care, when other kids tried to take our food, he would always stand in front of Chloe and me, holding his arms out. “Don’t be scared, Nora. I’ll protect you guys forever.” But now, his protection only extended to Chloe. The grand proposal live stream finally ended. I sat in the dark apartment for a long time, unable to move. The two people I loved most in the world were going to betray me, gaslight me, and drive me into an asylum. I refused to accept that ending. I spent the rest of the night packing my bags. I needed to leave for London as soon as possible. Around 3:00 AM, a frantic knocking echoed from my front door. I crept up and looked through the peephole. Ethan was standing outside, looking completely panicked. The moment I opened the door, he practically threw himself inside, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “Nora! Oh my god, I was so worried about you!” I raised my hands and pushed him away. His face froze. “What… what’s wrong?” I shook my head, keeping my voice flat. “Nothing. Why are you here?” Ethan stammered, looking uneasy. “I was so worried after your last message. I literally booked the earliest flight back.” “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Before I could even process his sudden arrival, he added, “Since you’re fine… could you please transfer Chloe’s allowance? She’s really stressed out.” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “When I got hit by a car and was hospitalized, you knew about it, but you didn’t even bother to call, let alone fly back.” “But for her…” The words choked in my throat. I swallowed down the bitterness. “Never mind.” Ethan’s brow furrowed, and he grabbed my shoulders. “Nora, I didn’t have the money for a plane ticket back then! You know that!” I didn’t answer. I turned around and walked toward my bedroom. His eyes scanned the apartment and fell on my packed suitcases. “Nora? Where are you going?” I kept my head down, wiping away my last tear. “I’m leaving. I’m getting out of your and Chloe’s way.”

    Ethan stared at me in shock, then let out his signature gentle chuckle. “Silly girl, what are you talking about?” “Have you been overthinking things because we’ve been apart for too long?” Looking at him now, I finally realized what an incredible actor he was. “Chloe is just my sister-in-law, Nora. I only care about her because of you. I don’t have any feelings for her.” “Come on, stop being dramatic.” He reached out to ruffle my hair. “I’m going to run to the 7-Eleven down the street to grab some food. I’ll stay here and keep you company for a few days.” He turned and left the apartment. Like a possessed woman, I opened Instagram and searched for the account that had streamed the proposal. Their “epic love story” had already gone viral. I had been branded as the toxic, obsessed ex-girlfriend. The comments were flooded with hate directed at me. As I scrolled, one comment caught my eye: “No need to waste your energy hating her. Karma got her. Word is that Nora Evans actually passed away last night.” My heart stopped. I quickly replied with a burner account: “Do you have any details?” The user replied almost instantly. “Ethan hated her. After they put her in the psych ward, he refused to pay for her care or even visit. Her mental health deteriorated rapidly. My friend who works at the facility said she watched the proposal video, went to sleep, and never woke up. The nurses heard her crying and whispering about how unfair it all was before she passed.” Reading this, my breath hitched. Pure, icy terror gripped my throat. I forced myself to take deep breaths to stop my hands from shaking. Once I calmed down, I opened my airline app and rescheduled my flight to London for the very next morning. I had to run. I had to rewrite this ending. Just as I put my phone down, Ethan returned with a bag of snacks. He sat down next to me on the couch, and I instinctively flinched away. His eyes flashed with confusion, but he quickly opened a bag of chips. “Here, Nora. These are your favorite. I bought a bunch and put them in the pantry.” “Don’t be mad at me anymore, okay? I promise to spend more time with you from now on.” Right then, his phone vibrated. He tried to turn away, but in the quiet room, I could clearly hear Chloe’s sobbing voice from the speaker. “Ethan… I’m so scared here by myself…” Ethan stood up quickly and locked himself in the bathroom. Five minutes later, he came out with a helpless expression. “Nora, I’m so sorry. My advisor just called. There’s an emergency with my thesis, and I have to fly back immediately.” “I can’t stay with you right now.” “But I promise, I’ll make it up to you during the holidays.” In the past, I would have begged him to stay, tears streaming down my face. But now, I simply nodded. “Go ahead.” A flash of doubt crossed Ethan’s face, but he brushed it off. Before sunrise, he was ready to leave. At the door, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Don’t worry, Nora. I will marry you. I promise.” His eyes were slightly red. For a split second, I couldn’t tell if he was acting or if there was a shred of sincerity left in him. I just nodded to get him to leave. Before boarding my flight, I checked Instagram again and found Ethan’s personal account. Someone had left a comment on his post: “I heard Nora passed away.” His reply was a simple: “Thank you.” The plane took off, and I switched my phone to airplane mode. When we finally landed in London, I nervously turned my phone back on. I let out a massive sigh of relief. The video, the account, the comments… they were all gone. The timeline had shifted.

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  • He Left Me Bleeding to Save His First Love

    On my wedding day to Julian, his Shibari artist ex-girlfriend and “first love,” Chloe, quietly returned to the country. Since then, Julian was always out of reach. He was either finding people for her to practice her rope rigging on, or busy cleaning up her messy accidents. It went on until Chloe tied me up in those tight, brutal ropes, forcing a miscarriage that took the baby in my womb. As I was being rushed to the hospital, slipping in and out of consciousness, Julian gently touched my lower abdomen. “Chloe said real art requires sacrifice. Don’t worry, you’re incredibly fertile anyway. We can always have another baby.” “I’ve already spoken to the doctors. They’ll do everything they can to keep you healthy.” Before I was even wheeled into the operating room, his assistant rushed over, saying Chloe had tripped in a pool of blood and scraped her knee. Without hesitation, Julian left with him. He had no idea that the baby was the very last one I had risked my life to keep for him, defying my System’s warnings. It was also the sole condition for me to give up my mission and return to my original world.

    Julian’s hurried footsteps faded at the end of the long hallway. I lay all alone on the cold metal gurney. The freezing metal frame pressed against my back, and the IV fluid slowly dripped down the tube. The nurse wheeled me toward the operating room in silence. The medical staff around us looked at my pale face, their eyes filled with pity. The fully-formed baby inside me had already stopped moving. The lead surgeon put on sterile gloves, his brows furrowed in deep sympathy. “Evelyn, your uterus was already severely damaged from previous miscarriages.” “Having to induce labor at this stage… the chances of you conceiving again are almost zero. You most likely won’t be able to have children ever again.” As his voice fell, a cold, mechanical sound suddenly rang in my mind. But this time, the usually emotionless electronic voice carried a hint of pity. “Host, you risked your soul and defied the System’s rules to have this baby. I can make an exception and save the fetus for you.” “After all, you were so stubborn about completing your mission with Julian, risking your life to get pregnant multiple times, only to end up with miscarriages. I don’t want you to leave with absolutely nothing.” I stared at the harsh, bright surgical lights above me and let out a dry, bitter laugh. “No need. You can’t force someone to love you.” The System was silent for a moment, as if wanting to persuade me further. But seeing the utter deadness in my eyes, its voice returned to its usual icy tone. “Understood. Proceeding with Host’s choice. However, the anesthesia will be blocked immediately.” “All pain during the surgery will be multiplied. This will serve as your final trial to leave this world.” The moment the anesthesia wore off, painful, shattered memories rushed into my mind. I remembered Chloe binding me with those thick ropes, pulling them brutally tight across my abdomen. The pain was so agonizing that I had curled up on the floor, screaming. “Julian, it hurts so bad! Please, untie me!” But he had only shaken his head. “Chloe’s rope art requires sacrifice. Just bear with it, Evelyn. Stop making a scene.” As I struggled in agony, my foot had accidentally brushed against Chloe. It was barely a touch, but Julian had immediately panicked, pulling her into his arms to check if she was hurt. Then, he turned around and personally tightened the ropes around me. That heartbreak had already carved itself into my bones. Compared to that, what was a little physical pain now? I slowly nodded. In the darkness, I felt the sharp scalpel slice through my skin. The sensation of cold surgical instruments stirring inside my abdomen was sharp and agonizing. Warm blood poured out of my body continuously. Wave after wave of excruciating pain washed over me, threatening to swallow me whole. When the long surgery finally ended, all my strength was gone. I felt like an empty shell that had lost its soul as the nurses wheeled me out. The System’s voice chimed in right on time. “Congratulations, Host, on successfully passing the departure trial. You will be transported back to your original world in forty-eight hours.”

    I was taken back to a regular recovery room. Just as I leaned back against the pillows to rest, the door was pushed open. Julian walked in, holding a thermal flask. His eyes fell on my suddenly flat stomach. A fleeting look of guilt crossed his face, and he stepped forward, reaching out to pull me into his arms. I turned my head slightly, coldly dodging his touch. My hand instinctively protected my empty stomach. Julian froze, a look of shock flashing in his eyes. But he quickly masked it, his voice softening. “I know you’re still angry. I know you suffered this time. To make it up to you, I’ll stay here and take care of you.” He opened the flask and poured out a bowl of rich, thick herbal soup, holding it out to me. The heavy, greasy smell hit me, making my stomach churn. I frowned. Seeing my reaction, Julian’s brow furrowed, his tone turning annoyed. “Chloe made this herself and asked me to bring it to you. I’m even feeding you personally. What more do you want, Evelyn?” In the past, whenever he mentioned Chloe, I would lose control and scream at him. Because of those fights, he had stopped bringing her up, but he had also grown colder and more distant. But now, as I touched my empty belly, I felt absolutely nothing. I replied flatly, “I’m not ungrateful. I just don’t have an appetite after the surgery.” My calm reaction caught Julian off guard. He set the bowl down and grabbed my wrist, wanting to say something. But the door opened again, and Chloe walked in, wearing a delicate, elegant dress. She kept her eyes down, looking incredibly hurt. “Why won’t you drink the soup, Evelyn? Do you hate me that much?” “I know I’m clumsy. I even cut my hand while making it. It’s only natural you’d look down on it.” Julian immediately let go of my hand. He rushed over to grab Chloe’s hand, examining her tiny cut before calling for a doctor. Chloe giggled, gently tapping his chest. “It’s just a scratch. It’s already treated. As long as Evelyn finishes the soup, my hard work won’t be wasted.” Julian turned back, picking up the bowl and pushing it toward me again. I looked at the two of them acting so intimate. Since I only had two days left, there was no point in fighting anymore. I took the bowl, forced down the nausea rising in my throat, and drank the greasy soup in one gulp. Seeing me finish it, Julian’s face softened a bit. “Good girl. Get some rest. I’ll stay here with you.” The moment he said that, Chloe chimed in. “Oh, don’t stay here. Our rope experiment got interrupted because of Evelyn earlier. You have to make it up to me.” “Let’s just use the empty private room next door. That way, we won’t disturb Evelyn’s rest.” Soon, my room became dead quiet. My heart still ached for my unborn child. I wanted to ask Julian for a proper burial place for the baby, so I forced myself up and slowly walked to the room next door. The door wasn’t fully closed. I could see everything inside. Julian was lying on the bed, bound in layers of intricate ropes. Chloe’s fingers slowly traced his skin, her eyes full of desire. “Since I came back, I’ve wanted a baby that belongs to just the two of us. Will you give me that, Julian?” Their intimate whispers drifted into my ears clearly. I stood outside the door quietly. The very last shred of hope I had for this man completely shattered and turned to ash.

    I turned around to go back to my room. But my body was too weak after the surgery, and the greasy soup made my stomach churn again. I gasped, my shoulder heavily bumping against the doorframe. Julian quickly untied himself and rushed out of the room. He patted my back to help me catch my breath. The scent of Chloe’s expensive perfume clung to his shirt. The strong fragrance triggered my nausea again. I pushed him away with all the strength I had left, leaning against the wall. Chloe walked out leisurely behind him. The passion in her eyes had completely vanished, replaced by her usual innocent, fragile act. She spoke softly, “I don’t have much time left to live, and I don’t want to get married. I just want a child of my own.” “Julian only agreed to help me because he saw how lonely and miserable I was. While you’re recovering from losing your baby, you can help us take care of our child to fill the void.” I knew she was mocking me, but my face remained completely blank. “None of my business. I was just passing by.” Chloe wouldn’t let it go. She stepped closer. “Evelyn, I know you think I’m disgusting. But I had no choice. You can understand me, right?” I looked up at her. “You are indeed disgusting.” My blunt words took her by surprise. Tears instantly filled her eyes, and she made a move to drop to her knees to apologize, sobbing. “Then I’ll just disappear. I won’t ruin your life anymore.” Julian immediately caught her, pulling her up. He glared at me with absolute disgust. “Evelyn! This is Chloe’s only wish. Why do you have to be so cruel and push her to the edge?” I wanted to laugh. Julian had always been so stingy with his warmth and tenderness when it came to me during our marriage. For him, I had gotten pregnant multiple times and suffered miscarriages, facing the pain of losing my babies all by myself every single time. A million emotions choked my chest, but I was too tired to argue. I turned to leave. But Julian suddenly picked me up in his arms and carried me back to my hospital bed. “The one I love has always been you. I’m only helping Chloe to fulfill her dying wish.” “Since you care so much about this, I’ll give you another baby. Will you stop throwing these tantrums then?” Before he could lean down any closer, I struggled with all my might, crying out in terror, “No!” But Julian ignored me, tightly grabbing my wrists. Driven to a corner, I gathered every ounce of strength I had left and slapped him across the face. The loud slap echoed in the room. Julian froze. Then, his eyes flared with rage. “Evelyn! You are getting completely out of hand.” “Since you don’t want it, I promise you will never have a child of mine again. Don’t you dare regret this!” With that threat, Julian slammed the door. Not long after, the playful, suggestive giggles from the room next door drifted into my ears. I lay on the bed quietly with my eyes closed. I only had one day left before I could leave this world. Nothing mattered anymore. The next morning, ignoring the doctor’s warnings, I checked myself out of the hospital. I went back to our penthouse, took off my diamond wedding ring, and threw it into the trash chute. I didn’t take a single thing that Julian had bought me. I only packed a small suitcase with my own belongings. Just as I finished, the front door was pushed open. Julian stood there, his brows furrowed as he looked at my suitcase. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

    The scent of Chloe’s perfume on Julian was even stronger now. Before I could speak, he stepped forward and snatched my suitcase away. His eyes were filled with impatience, assuming I was still playing hard to get. “Stop acting out. Chloe just came up with a new rope design. Go over and help her practice.” “If you behave well and make her happy, I might reconsider the baby thing.” I used to desperately want his baby because I loved him to death. But now, I looked him dead in the eye and said calmly, “I don’t want your baby anymore. And I will never be her guinea pig again.” “Since you love helping her so much, why don’t you go keep her company for the rest of her short life?” Right then, the System’s voice chimed in my head. “The twelve-hour countdown to departure has begun.” My rejection completely infuriated Julian. He violently kicked my suitcase, sending it sliding across the floor. His face was ice-cold. “I knew you wouldn’t listen. I’ve already sent men to pick up your mother.” Hearing the word “mother,” my heart seized. In this strange world, my mother, Sarah, was my only comfort. During the countless nights Julian had left me alone, she was the one who stayed by my side. She gently healed my loneliness and anxiety. She was the only person I cared about in this world. I rushed forward to stop him. “Don’t you dare touch my mom!” Julian grabbed my arm. His grip was like iron, his voice cold and commanding. “You don’t get a say in this.” He dragged me out of the penthouse and threw me into his car. The car sped through the city and finally stopped at the underground warehouse of Chloe’s private estate. The warehouse was dimly lit. When I looked up, I saw my mother hanging from the ceiling by ropes. Her limbs were tied tightly, and her face was deathly pale. I screamed, trying to run over to untie her, but Julian held me back firmly. “Chloe has no interest in hurting an old lady. If you want to save your mother, take her place.” Looking at my mother’s agonizing state, I bit my lip and nodded. A smug smile spread across Chloe’s face. “Smart girl. Once I’m pregnant with Julian’s baby, I’ll need to rest. This will probably be my last session.” With that, she began tying my limbs. Julian quickly pushed her aside, telling her not to exhaust herself and that he would handle the rest. Rough ropes were wrapped tightly around my skin, squeezing my waist and chest. My blood flow was cut off, and a suffocating feeling washed over me. My limbs gradually went numb and freezing cold. The torture went on for what felt like eternity. My face turned paper-white, and my body shook uncontrollably. Seeing this, Julian was about to call it off, but Chloe held his arm to stop him. “The time isn’t up yet.” Then, she pressed her hand to her forehead, looking weak. “Julian, I feel so dizzy and hot… Do you think it’s because of my illness?” All of Julian’s attention immediately shifted to her. Filled with worry, he carefully scooped Chloe into his arms and rushed out of the warehouse. He didn’t even look back at me. I was left hanging in the middle of the dark, silent warehouse. Just as the agonizing pain was about to make me pass out, the System’s voice suddenly rang in my head. “Warning: Host’s life is in extreme danger. Emergency departure can be activated immediately. Do you wish to return to your original world now?” I looked at my unconscious mother on the floor. “Yes,” I whispered in my mind. The next second, a powerful force pulled my soul out of my body. … Julian was too worried about Chloe’s dizziness. He drove her straight to the nearest hospital. But shortly after they arrived, his phone rang. It was his assistant. The voice on the other end was frantic. “Mr. Julian, the other volunteers who practiced Chloe’s rope art before are all having severe medical emergencies!” “The authorities are investigating. They need Chloe to come down and explain her techniques immediately.” Julian frowned. He was confident in Chloe’s skills, so he answered carelessly, “Don’t bother Chloe. Go to the warehouse and bring Evelyn to testify.” “She has always been obedient. She will tell them the technique is perfectly safe.” He was certain he had me wrapped around his finger. But a few minutes later, the assistant called back, his voice trembling. “Mr. Julian… we just went to the warehouse. We took Mrs. Evelyn down from the ropes… but she’s not breathing…”

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  • She Never Let Me Turn On the Lights

    Five years of marriage, and Alaina never let me turn on the lights in the bedroom. Whenever I asked her why, she always gave me the same cold excuse: she hated feeling exposed, and she didn’t like anyone staring at her body. I believed her. Until today. She was taking a shower in her office bathroom and realized she’d forgotten her clothes. Instead of calling me, she called her assistant, Tristan Cole, and told him to bring them inside. Through the heavy wooden door, I heard Tristan slip. The next thing I knew, his entire weight was pressed against Alaina on the wet tile floor. There was no scream. There was no outrage from my wife. Instead, all I heard was Alaina’s soft, breathless giggle and a shower of compliments aimed at Tristan. “Alaina, you’re just as breathtaking as you were three years ago. If anything, your body has only gotten sweeter.” I stood right outside the door, freezing as the ugly truth washed over me. I hoped I was hallucinating. But Alaina didn’t push Tristan off. Instead, she pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss. At that exact second, my blood boiled. I lost all control, threw the door open, and stepped inside. “Should I leave so you two can finish putting on a live show on the floor?”

    The two of them froze, their lips still practically glued together, panic flashing instantly across their faces. “Marcus? Aren’t you supposed to be on a business trip?” “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” Alaina stared at me in shock, but she didn’t even bother to push Tristan off her. They were still tangled up in a ridiculously intimate position. I knew right then—if I hadn’t walked in, she would have officially made me a cuckold today. But more importantly, my mind was spinning over what I’d just heard. Three years ago. Tristan was too terrified to move. He stammered, trying to find his tongue, but made no effort to get up. I let out a harsh, dry laugh and kicked him right in the ribs, sending him flying across the floor. “What’s the matter, Tristan? Still addicted to whatever she gave you three years ago?” As Tristan crashed into the wall, Alaina gasped in worry. Then, she turned her head and glared at me with pure venom. “Marcus Pierce, have you lost your freaking mind?” “Why did you kick Tristan? And what the hell are you talking about, three years ago?” Without even grabbing a towel to cover herself, she ran over in her underwear to help Tristan up. “Tristan, are you okay?” Tristan looked at me, trembling like a wet dog, and quickly scrambled to his feet to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Pierce!” “It’s not what you think! Alaina forgot her bathrobe, and since I was the only one in the office, I was just trying to help. I slipped, I swear!” I didn’t even look at him. My face was dead cold, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I thought you hated people looking at your body, Alaina.” “So why are you standing basically naked in front of another man right now?” Faced with my sharp question, Alaina finally realized she was barely wearing anything. She bent down, grabbed a coat from the floor, and wrapped it around herself. But there was no shame in her eyes. No real panic. My heart wrenched. This wasn’t her first time being naked around him. Not by a long shot. The devastating truth finally hit me: she didn’t hate being seen. She just hated being seen by me. At that moment, the love I had carried for her for five years began to die. The silence in the room was suffocating. Tristan quickly bowed, trying to play the martyr. “Mr. Pierce, blame me if you have to! Please don’t be mad at Alaina!” “I’ll be more careful next time…” “Did I ask you to speak, you parasite? Shut up!” I snapped. Tristan winced, looking incredibly victimized. Seeing that I was genuinely furious, Alaina finally reached out and grabbed my arm. “Okay, Marcus, stop making a scene!” “This was just an accident. I swear, nothing like this has ever happened before!” I turned my head slowly and stared at the face of the woman I had loved for half a decade. For the first time in my life, I felt nothing but utter disgust.

    “Don’t treat me like an idiot.” “He literally just said your body is as breathtaking as it was three years ago!” “If he hadn’t seen it before, how would he know?” “If you don’t give me a real explanation right now, we are done.” Before she could answer, the sound of something dropping echoed from the doorway. The three of us turned our heads. A crowd of gossiping employees was standing in the hallway, staring wide-eyed. Alaina glared at them, and they immediately scattered like rats. But their whispered words carried perfectly back into the room. “Oh my god, Mr. Pierce finally caught them.” “Right? What kind of assistant carries clothes into his female boss’s bathroom anyway? I’ve seen him giving her shoulder rubs in there before…” With every word, Alaina’s face grew darker and more hostile. If they hadn’t done it, people wouldn’t be describing it in such vivid detail. She had been caught red-handed, and there was no lying her way out of this. I looked at Alaina, giving her a straight choice. “I don’t care what trash you two pulled in the past. I won’t dig into it.” “But as of today, Tristan is fired. You need to clear the rumors. The Smith Group’s stock price is tied to our public image, and I won’t let you ruin it.” I expected Alaina to be reasonable and weigh the business risks. Instead, she just clenched her fists and remained stubbornly silent. Seeing this, Tristan’s eyes welled with tears, and he literally fell to his knees in front of me. “Mr. Pierce, Alaina and I are innocent.” “Please don’t believe those lies and ruin our lives.” “I can’t lose this job. My family took out massive loans from relatives just to send me to college. I swore to my parents that once I graduated and got a real job, I’d pay off their debts and give them a good retirement. Please…” Tristan sobbed dramatically, playing the role of the poor, struggling college grad being crushed by a heartless boss. And Alaina bought every second of it. Her heart practically melted for him. She bent down to pull him up. “Tristan, get up. Don’t kneel to him.” “I am not firing you. Get up.” “No, Alaina!” Tristan cried, staying on his knees. “Let me kneel. If Mr. Pierce doesn’t forgive me, I won’t get up. Everyone in this company knows he’s the one who actually runs things around here anyway.” I narrowed my eyes at Tristan. I had underestimated this little rat. His words were a calculated poison, designed to spark Alaina’s pride. Sure enough, Alaina snapped, her head whipping up to glare at me. “The Smith Group is my family’s company, Marcus! Since when do you run things?” She let out a mocking laugh. “Marcus Pierce, you seem to have forgotten your place.” I stared at her coldly, waiting for the rest of her speech. She sneered, “Aren’t you from a poor family, too? What right do you have to look down on Tristan?” “I still don’t know why my grandfather forced me to marry you. You were just a charity case who married into my family. A trophy husband.” “I only gave you some respect because you managed the company well. But make no mistake—the Smith Group belongs to me. Understood?” Beside her, Tristan secretly smirked. Alaina had just completely humiliated me in front of her assistant, tearing down my dignity to protect her little pet. “Alaina Smith… so in your heart, I’m just a worthless gold-digger?” Alaina met my gaze, her eyes cold as ice. “Yes!” She had no idea how deeply her words had pierced my heart. But then again, she didn’t care.

    Tristan kept playing the terrified victim. “Alaina, please don’t speak to Mr. Pierce like that.” “He’s still your husband, and he’s the COO of the company.” “Even if you don’t fire me, I’m afraid Mr. Pierce will make my life a living hell…” He trailed off, letting Alaina’s imagination fill in the blanks. “Let him try,” Alaina spat, giving me a warning glare. “If he tries to abuse his power to get back at you, I’ll show him who really holds the cards.” Looking at them, I suddenly laughed. It was a hollow, empty sound. I had wasted five years of my life protecting and building up a woman who wasn’t worth a single second of my time. How pathetic was I? I turned my back on her and walked toward the door. Before leaving, I said coldly, “You’re wrong, Alaina. If things go sideways between us, I’ll be the one replacing you. Not the other way around.” Alaina didn’t take my warning seriously. To her, I was just a penniless nobody who got lucky by marrying her. In her eyes, getting into the Smith family was like hitting the jackpot for me. “Marcus, let me tell you something!” she yelled after me. “Just to make sure you don’t bully Tristan, I’m giving him 5% of the Smith Group’s shares!” “Tomorrow is his birthday. This will be my gift to him.” Tristan looked up at her, utterly ecstatic. “Alaina… is this real? You’re giving me 5% of the company?” Alaina smiled warmly at him and nodded. “You’ve been with me for three years. You’ve worked hard, and you’ve taken so much abuse. Once you have those shares, nobody in this company will ever look down on you again.” Standing in the hallway, my heart turned to stone. Three years of hard work. What about my five years? I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into turning her family’s struggling regional business into a multi-billion-dollar empire. Where was my reward? Who was going to give me justice? I didn’t say another word. I walked out of the building. I went straight to a high-end lounge downtown and started drinking. Halfway through my third glass of whiskey, my phone rang. “Marcus, you lied to me.” “Five years ago, the day I left for my master’s in London, you promised you’d wait for me.” “I’m finally back… but I hear you married some mediocre woman in this city.” I sobered up instantly, looking at the caller ID. It was Melanie Vance. She was my childhood friend. Five years ago, her father had sent her abroad to prepare her to take over the Vance conglomerate. Before she left, to comfort her, I had indeed promised her I’d wait. I shook my head and smiled bitterly. Destiny really loved playing jokes. “Melanie, I’m actually getting a divorce…” “Wait, really?!” her voice lit up instantly. “I mean… as long as you’re single, that’s all that matters! But what happened?” I laughed softly, chatted with her for a few more minutes, and hung up. By the time I left the lounge, it was past midnight. I obviously wasn’t going back to the apartment I shared with Alaina. Instead, I drove to the oceanfront mansion I had recently purchased. But when I reached the front door and entered the passcode, the lock beeped red. Incorrect password. I frowned and tried again. Incorrect. A sudden, sickening realization hit me. Alaina had changed the passcode. Rage flared in my chest. I forced myself to calm down and typed in her birthday. Incorrect.

    I typed in our wedding anniversary. Incorrect. Just as I was about to lose my temper and kick the door down, a disgusting thought crossed my mind. I typed in Tristan’s birthday. Click. The door unlocked. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles popped. I threw the door open and stormed inside. Tristan was loungeing on my custom sofa, wearing my silk pajamas, drinking a vintage Bordeaux from my private cellar, and hum-singing to a song on his phone. My sudden entrance didn’t even startle him. He just smiled, looking at me like he was the king of the castle. “Oh, hey, Marcus! Glad you could make it.” “Come on in. You want some of this XO, or…” “Who gave you permission to be in my house?” I roared. This was my house. I bought it. Who the hell did this little parasite think he was, flaunting himself in my face? He had already finished half of a $50,000 bottle of wine. My face turned dangerously dark. But Tristan didn’t care about my anger. Now that there were no employees around, he dropped his innocent act completely. “Your wife told me I could stay here… oh, actually, scratch that.” “She said she’s gifting this mansion to me.” I knew it. It was Alaina’s doing. But this mansion’s deed was solely under my name. I bought it with my own money. “She gave it to you? Who the hell does she think she is?” “Get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing!” Tristan laughed, completely unfazed. He stood up, walked over, and splashed the red wine right into my face. He tapped a finger hard against my chest. “Marcus, who the fuck do you think you are?” “You’re just a kept man. A dog the Smith family decided to feed.” “Every penny you spend on food, clothes, and housing comes from the Smiths. And you have the nerve to claim this house is yours?” “You’re the one who needs to get out!” The wet, sticky wine dripped down my face. The last of my patience snapped. I reached out, grabbed his finger, and twisted it backward until the bone cracked. Tristan screamed, dropping to his knees. “You piece of trash, let go!” “Oh, I’ll let go,” I whispered. I grabbed his arm, pivoted, and slammed his body onto the marble floor. I had been trained by elite private security instructors since I was five years old to be the heir of the Pierce family. A fragile, pampered kid like Tristan stood absolutely zero chance against me. The loud crash drew Alaina running down the stairs. She was wearing a silk nightgown, her neck covered in fresh hickeys. I froze for a second. I hadn’t expected her to be here. They must have had a wild night before I arrived. Even though I was completely done with her, seeing the physical proof of her betrayal still stung a little. I had resisted my family’s arranged marriage for years, until I saw Alaina’s picture. I remembered her from years ago—the brave girl who had risked her life to save my pet dog. I thought she was pure, kind, and different. But people change. Time rots everything. “Marcus!!” Alaina screamed, rushing down. She grabbed a heavy wooden chair and swung it directly at my head. I easily stepped aside, dodging the blow. Missing me made her even more furious. Since the gloves were off, I didn’t hold back. “Alaina Smith, you ignored my warning.” “You’re going to pay a heavy price for your arrogance.” “Make me pay? Fine! Let’s see who dies first!” Alaina shrieked. “I’m divorcing you. I’m going to ruin you until you have absolutely nothing left!” She moved fast. Within twenty minutes, she had summoned a team of her family’s private bodyguards and lawyers to the mansion. She slapped a pre-drafted divorce agreement onto my chest. “Sign it. You leave with nothing.”

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  • Replaced By A Better Man

    It was past midnight when my phone buzzed on the cluttered desk. I was in the middle of a grueling overtime shift, the harsh fluorescent lights of the office humming a low, irritating tune. The text was from Jerry, my boyfriend of five years. I ended the lease on our apartment. Sent you the new address. I stared at the screen, a familiar, cold weight settling in my chest. I didn’t need to look up the zip code to know what this meant. Is this about Melanie again? I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly. Melanie. The fragile, self-made, fiercely independent girl Jerry couldn’t stop talking about. This would be our third move in six months. We had started in a gorgeous, high-rise loft in the Gold Coast, close to everything. Then we downgraded to a noisy mid-rise, and now, according to the map, we were heading to a cramped, sketchy neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. All to be closer to Melanie. Predictably, my text struck a nerve. His reply came back almost instantly, sharp and defensive. Don’t start with the jealousy, Regina. Someone followed her home from work last night. She was terrified. You’re both women. Where is your empathy? I looked out the window. The Chicago skyline was dark, swallowed by the freezing winter night. A sudden, deep exhaustion washed over me. I couldn’t even count how many times Jerry and I had fought over Melanie. It was an exhausting loop: first came my anger and hurt, then his accusations, and finally, this hollow silence. I don’t have time for this, his next text read. I’m going to pick her up from her shift. Before I could type a response, he hung up—metaphorically speaking, cutting off the conversation with the finality of a locked screen. Not once during this entire process had Jerry asked if I wanted to move. Not once did he ask if I wanted him to pick me up, even though it was freezing and past 1 a.m. So, I didn’t ask for his opinion either. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the corporate relocation agreement that had been sitting there for a week. With a steady hand, I signed my name at the bottom: Regina Davies. 01 Before packing up, I knocked on my manager’s door. Sandra was still at her desk. I handed her the signed contract for the London transfer. She looked up, startled. “Regina? I thought you said you wanted to stay in Chicago because of your boyfriend. You didn’t want the long-distance.” Most of the senior team had families tying them down, so Sandra had practically begged me to take the post. It was a massive promotion—a career-defining opportunity. But back then, the thought of leaving Jerry had made me reject it without a second thought. I offered her a tight, polite smile. “I wasn’t thinking clearly back then. I used to believe love could fix everything.” Sandra looked at me, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. She didn’t press. She just took the paperwork and patted my shoulder gently. “We’re lucky to have you, Regina.” Getting a cab at 1:30 a.m. in the freezing cold was a nightmare. I stood on the curb, the biting winter wind cutting right through my coat. I watched my coworkers get picked up one by one. Greg, who lived in my old neighborhood, noticed me shivering. “Hey, Regina! No ride tonight? Is Jerry out of town? Come on, hop in, I’ll drop you off. Just tell him he owes me a beer!” I forced a smile and shook my head. “Thanks, Greg, but I actually moved. I’m not on your route anymore.” He thought I was just being polite, but when I told him the new neighborhood, his eyes widened slightly. “Oh. That’s… a bit of a trek.” “Yeah. My ride is almost here anyway. Don’t worry about me.” I waited in the freezing wind for another forty minutes before a rideshare finally pulled up. Our old high-rise apartment had been a ten-minute walk from my office, in a highly secure building. Back then, Jerry used to worry if I stayed late. He would wait downstairs in his car, heater blasting, just to make sure I walked the short distance safely. Now, we were living in a place that was a ninety-minute drive in traffic. And Jerry hadn’t even asked how I was getting home. By the time I unlocked my phone in the back of the cab, it was 2:30 a.m. My fingers were stiff and numb. There were several texts from coworkers making sure I got home safe. I replied to each of them. But Jerry’s chat, pinned at the very top of my messages, was a blank slate. A dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. I opened Instagram. The very first post on my feed was from Melanie. Thanks to my favorite guy for picking me up. Best boyfriend in the world. It was a photo of Jerry’s profile as he drove, his jawline sharp in the dim dashboard light. She was sitting in the passenger seat. My seat. The one Jerry had always insisted was exclusively mine. The comments were flooded with heart emojis and “Are you guys finally official?” comments. Melanie had replied to almost all of them: Omg guys, it was a typo! Don’t make it weird! We’re just really close friends! And there, right at the top of the likes, was Jerry’s profile picture. I tapped the heart icon, adding my own like to the post. Then I closed the app, opened my messages, and unpinned Jerry’s contact. 02 When the Uber finally pulled up to the brick building, it was past three in the morning. I dragged my suitcase up the dimly lit stairs of the pre-war apartment building. I reached the door and stared at the keypad lock. I instinctively punched in my birthday. Error. I tried our anniversary. Error. Before I could try a third time, the door swung open. Melanie stood there, wearing a pastel pink apron, holding a spatula, a warm, bright smile plastered on her face. “Regina! You’re finally home! Jerry and I are making late-night snacks.” She noticed me staring at the keypad and flushed with mock embarrassment. “Oh, sorry! The code is my birthday. I’m so forgetful, and Jerry was worried I’d lock myself out while helping you guys unpack.” I looked past her into the kitchen. Jerry—a man who absolutely detested cooking and had never once made me dinner in five years—was standing over the stove wearing a matching apron. Hearing our voices, he looked up and smiled warmly at Melanie. But when his gaze landed on me, the warmth vanished, replaced by a cool, defensive shield. “You’re late,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Go wash your hands. Melanie went out of her way to make a welcome-home dinner for us. She’s been unpacking all day, and she still insisted on cooking for you.” Melanie played the modest angel. “Oh, stop it, Jerry. We’re family now. Your family is my family. Regina, don’t listen to him, I was happy to do it.” The apartment was heated, yet I felt a chill deep in my bones. I didn’t say a word. I kicked off my boots and looked around the cramped entryway for my slippers. They weren’t there. Melanie tapped her temple. “Oh! Silly me. I saw those old, ratty wool slippers of yours and assumed you were throwing them out, so I tossed them. I haven’t had a chance to buy you new ones yet.” I stared at the cheap, plastic slide-ons she had set out for me. Something inside me snapped. I kicked them aside. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” Melanie froze. Her lower lip began to tremble, and her eyes welled up with tears. “Regina… I’m so sorry. I was just trying to help…” Jerry immediately abandoned the stove, rushing over to shove himself between us, shielding Melanie. “Regina, what the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled. “It’s a pair of cheap slippers! Do you have to be so incredibly dramatic?” Melanie tugged gently at his sleeve, her voice soft and trembling. “Jerry, please, don’t. It’s my fault. Don’t fight with Regina because of me…” Jerry’s chest heaved with anger. “She spent the whole day helping us move, Regina! She cooked for you! Is this how you show your appreciation? By screaming at her?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The physical pain was the only thing keeping me from breaking down right in front of them. “Those weren’t ‘cheap slippers,’” I whispered, my voice shaking. “My mother hand-knit them for me while she was dying in the hospital. They were the last thing she ever made. Melanie, what right did you have to throw them away?” Jerry froze. The anger died in his eyes, replaced by a flicker of guilt. He rubbed his temples, his tone softening slightly. “Look… you still shouldn’t have yelled at Melanie. She didn’t know. It was an accident. I forgot to tell her, okay? It’s on me.” I looked at Jerry, utterly hollowed out. I used to get terribly cold feet in the winter. My mother, weak and bedridden with terminal cancer, had spent her final weeks knitting those slippers for me. On her deathbed, she had placed my hand in Jerry’s, begging him in her softest, weakest voice to cherish me. And Jerry had promised. He had held me through the worst nights of my life. And now, he had simply “forgotten.” “Just eat,” Jerry said, his voice flat. “After we eat, I’ll go down to the dumpster with you and help you look for them. Just stop making a scene, alright?” I didn’t answer. I turned around and walked out the door, down the dark, narrow hallway. The old building had no working lights in the stairwell. I was walking fast, my eyes blurred with tears. My foot caught on the edge of a broken step. I fell. It was a brutal, tumbling fall down the concrete stairs. A sharp, agonizing pain flared in my abdomen, so intense it stole the breath from my lungs. I couldn’t stand up. When I reached down, my hands came away wet and warm with blood. “Jerry!” I cried out, my voice echoing in the empty, freezing stairwell. “Jerry, please!” I called his name over and over. But no one came. The metallic scent of blood filled the cold air. In the semi-darkness, my mind began to slip. I thought I saw him—not the cold, distant twenty-seven-year-old Jerry standing in the apartment upstairs, but the twenty-two-year-old boy who used to love me more than life itself. 03 Jerry and I had met in college. He was the campus golden boy; I was the popular, slightly spoiled girl everyone wanted to be friends with. People tried to set us up, but we initially couldn’t stand each other. I thought he was arrogant and performative; he thought I was entitled. But everything changed during a student council hiking trip. I got a severe cramp from my period and fell behind, eventually getting separated from the group. I ended up lost, alone, and terrified in a dense, signal-less forest as night fell. I huddled under a tree, listening to the rustling of wild animals, waiting in absolute despair. And then, Jerry appeared like a miracle. He had noticed I was missing and came back for me. He carried me on his back, whispering words of comfort, all the way down the mountain. After that night, our pride crumbled. We started talking, really talking, and our hearts gravitated toward each other. By graduation, we were the couple everyone envied. Those were the happiest days of my life. But the happiness didn’t last. Shortly after graduation, my mother was diagnosed with stage-four pancreatic cancer. My father had passed away when I was a child; she was my entire world. That year was a descent into darkness. Jerry would work his entry-level job all day and spend every night at the hospital, sitting by my mother’s bed, holding my hand while I cried. He survived on hospital cafeteria coffee and vending machine snacks for six months, pulling me back from the brink of collapse. When she finally passed, I shut down. I became silent, hollow, refusing to speak for days. But Jerry never gave up. He ignored my coldness, pushed past my walls, and patiently coaxed me back to the land of the living. He slept lightly every night, terrified that if he closed his eyes, I would find a way to follow my mother. I had lost my mother, but he was the one who lost weight faster than I did. It was his devotion that saved me. I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world to have him. Under his gentle guidance, I slowly put my life back together, went to interviews, and got my career back on track. Until a year ago. Until Melanie. She was just a girl working at a local florist. Jerry had bought a bouquet from her once to congratulate me on a promotion. At first, her name only came up in passing. Jerry told me she had lost her mother too, and her father was a raging alcoholic. She had dropped out of high school to support herself. I felt deeply sorry for her. But gradually, Jerry became obsessed. Melanie’s kitchen light broke; he took a midnight Uber to fix it. Melanie had cramps; he took a sick day to brew her soup and deliver it to her apartment. He always claimed she was just a poor, helpless girl who had no one else. On our anniversary—which happened to fall on her birthday—he canceled our dinner reservation because she “couldn’t bear to be alone on her birthday.” He even agreed to relocate to this rundown, inconvenient neighborhood just because Melanie mentioned she hated the noise of the city center. We fought about it constantly. I asked him, point-blank, if he was in love with her. And every time, he would defensively claim they were just friends, that he had never crossed any physical boundaries. But emotional betrayal is a slow, agonizing poison. His body was there, but his soul had checked out long ago. Eventually, we stopped communicating. A simple conversation became a minefield. Jerry turned me into a paranoid, screaming version of myself, and then had the audacity to ask why I was acting so crazy. We fought, we went cold, we broke up, we got back together. I hated myself for being so weak, for not being able to walk away. But every time I resolved to leave, I would remember the boy who sat by my mother’s hospital bed for six months. We survived the absolute worst year of my life. How could we fall apart over something like this? I had no answer. So, I became quiet. I stopped fighting. I grew used to him missing our milestones, used to him giving Melanie the devotion that belonged to me. I grew used to the crowded space in our relationship. 04 When I woke up, the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nose. Jerry was sitting by my bedside. Seeing my eyes open, he immediately pressed the call button for the nurse. The doctor arrived quickly, performing a brief examination before turning to Jerry with a solemn expression. “The patient has suffered a miscarriage due to the fall. She’s lost a lot of blood and her body is extremely weak. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and iron-rich foods.” I stared at the ceiling, my hand trembling as I placed it over my empty stomach. The ghost of that sharp, tearing pain was still there. I had been pregnant. And now, the baby was gone. Once the doctor left, Jerry stepped closer. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed with red. He reached out to tuck the blanket around me, his voice raw. “Regina… I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let you walk out alone. But we’re young. We can try again.” He reached to stroke my hair, but I flinched, pulling away from his touch. I forced myself to sit up, but the pain in my abdomen flared instantly. Jerry tried to push me back down. “What are you doing? The doctor said you need to stay overnight for observation.” “Get away from me!” I screamed, struggling against his grip. “Let me go! I need to find my mother’s slippers!” I had lost my baby. I couldn’t lose the last piece of my mother. Jerry knelt by the bed, forcing my shoes onto my feet and wrapping his coat around my shoulders. “Stop screaming, Regina. I had Melanie go look for them. She called me earlier—she found them. They’re at the apartment. You’ll see them when we get back.” He discharged me against medical advice because I refused to stay. I was in too much pain to walk, biting my lip until it bled to keep from crying out. I refused to let him see an ounce of my weakness. Seeing my stubbornness, Jerry sighed and scooped me into his arms, ignoring my weak attempts to push him away. His chest used to be my safe haven. But now, as I breathed in the heavy, cloying scent of sweet vanilla hair oil—the exact brand Melanie always wore—I felt violently ill. Thirty minutes later, we reached the apartment. I watched Jerry punch a sequence of numbers into the keypad. It was my birthday. Error. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “The code is Melanie’s birthday,” I said, my voice dead and flat. The door opened, and Melanie was standing in the hall holding a thermos. “Jerry! You’re back! I was just about to bring this to the hospital.” She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear and performative guilt. “Regina… please don’t be mad at Jerry. It’s all my fault. I am so, so sorry.” She took a step closer, unscrewing the thermos. “I heard about the… the baby. I made this chicken soup for you to help you heal.” She pushed the greasy, steaming liquid toward my face, pretending she wanted to feed me. I raised my hand to push the container away. I didn’t even touch her. But Melanie stumbled backward, losing her balance. The scalding soup spilled all over her chest and arms. She let out a piercing, dramatic shriek. Jerry instantly let go of me. I crashed heavily onto the hard hardwood floor. The impact sent a jolt of pure agony through my abdomen, and the metallic taste of blood pooled in my throat. I began to cough violently, curling into a ball. But Jerry didn’t look at me. Not once. He was on his knees, cradling Melanie in his arms, his face contorted with panic and tenderness. “Melanie! Oh my god, are you okay? I’m calling an ambulance!” Melanie clutched his shirt, tears streaming down her face. “Jerry, I’m okay… don’t be mad at Regina… she didn’t mean to…” Jerry turned to look at me, his eyes filled with a cold, burning disgust. “Regina, when did you become such a monster? I can’t believe I ever loved you.” A weak, bitter laugh escaped my lips. There it was. The ugly truth, finally laid bare. I can’t believe I ever loved you. Past tense. His love for me was a relic of the past; his love for Melanie was his present. Jerry stared at me, genuinely bewildered by my laughter. Melanie’s whimpers cut off whatever he was about to say. He shook his head, his voice dripping with utter disdain. “You are beyond saving, Regina. Honestly? Maybe it’s a blessing that baby died. I’d hate to see what kind of twisted, malicious mother you would have been.” He scooped Melanie up and rushed out the door, leaving me alone on the floor. A fresh wave of blood escaped my lips as I coughed. But in a strange, agonizing way, I agreed with him. I was glad my baby wouldn’t have to grow up in the wreckage of our lives. As the front door slammed shut, the memory of the sweet, protective boy from college faded forever. In his place was a stranger who had just handed me my execution sentence. Goodbye, Jerry.

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  • His Ex Con CFO Stole Millions

    Three years in prison for a ring my boyfriend stole. The day I got out, I went straight to an exclusive private club to meet my new boss. Instead, I found my supposedly broke, food-delivery-driver boyfriend draped in designer labels, surrounded by bottles of Macallan 25, laughing like he owned the world. “Hey, Austin, isn’t today the day your little jailbird girlfriend gets released? Aren’t you going to pick her up?” A chorus of snickers. “A disgraced ex-con accountant?” Austin sneered. “She doesn’t deserve my time.” I walked right up to their table. “Care to explain?” When Austin saw me, there wasn’t a flicker of guilt on his face. He just smirked, kicking his designer loafers up onto the mahogany table. “Well, you see how it is. No point in hiding it anymore.” “It started as a dare. Play the broke guy, see if I could land the smart girl.” “But you just had to be difficult. Refused to be my side piece.” “Now that you’ve rotted in a cell for three years, do you still have that high-and-mighty attitude?” The table erupted into laughter. I felt a cold smile touch my lips. Austin had a pretty face, but his head was filled with absolute mush. The ring he stole was worth barely fifteen hundred dollars. There was no universe in which that carried a three-year sentence. The place they sent me was Otisville. Taking the fall for his petty theft was just a convenient cover for what I actually needed to hide. ………… Austin looked me up and down, scanning my face and body like he was appraising a piece of cheap merchandise. He nodded slowly. “Three years in federal lockup, and you haven’t even lost your edge.” He pulled a thick stack of bills from his leather wallet and slammed twenty thousand dollars onto the table with a sharp slap. “Too bad. An ex-con woman’s time is only worth about this much a year.” His cronies sneered in unison. “What’s a felon doing acting so high and mighty?” “She won’t even be able to get a job at a diner. She should be thanking God for twenty grand.” I stared at them, my expression flat. Inside, I was laughing. Before my arrest, my annual salary was a cool million. And today, my new boss was offering me a starting package of three million. Austin actually thought twenty thousand was something to brag about. I reached out, picked up the stack of bills, and weighed it in my palm. Austin’s smirk widened, entirely self-satisfied. “See?” he drawled. “Why make things hard on yourself? If you’d just played nice and kept your mouth shut as my mistress, I would’ve given you a hundred thousand a year.” Before he could finish his sentence, I hurled the stack of cash directly into his face. “That pathetic pocket change wouldn’t cover my monthly coffee budget. You actually thought you were doing something here?” The table flared with anger. “You ungrateful bitch!” “Just wait until you’re desperate enough to beg some old creep to pay your rent!” “No class. Typical jailbird.” Austin’s face twisted into a dark scowl, laughing mockingly. “Gwen, do you ever stop lying to yourself?” “Before you went inside, you were a nobody accountant. You lived in a damp basement, eating instant ramen every night, making five thousand a month at best.” “Where the hell do you think you’re getting big money?” A sharp needle of memory pricked my chest. The month I spent with him had been the absolute nadir of my life. I was under federal investigation, all my bank accounts had been frozen, and I was hiding out in a dingy basement, surviving on dry noodles. But it was also during that desperate, agonizing period that I resolved to clean up my act once and for all. “A low-level accountant should be kissing my feet for even looking her way,” Austin sneered. “I dropped hints about keeping you on the side, and you threatened to castrate me if I ever cheated on you.” “So I staged the whole proposal. I stole that diamond ring, proposed, and then called the cops on you myself.” “And you were stupid enough to take the fall and go to prison for me.” The pieces finally clicked. So that was his grand design. When he had proposed to me, I had been blinded by emotion. I was already facing a prison sentence for my own actions, and I didn’t want to drag him down with me. When the police showed up, he wept, begging me to confess, claiming he’d only stolen the ring out of sheer desperation. He said a felony charge would ruin his life forever. My heart had softened. I figured I was already facing three years in Otisville anyway; taking on one minor grand theft charge wouldn’t make a difference. So I took the heat. I had no idea the entire sequence of events was a script he wrote. Seeing my silence, Austin assumed I was intimidated. He reached out to touch my cheek, his fingers greasy, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now that you have a record, I’m the only option you’ve got left.” “Keep me happy, and maybe I’ll bump your allowance up to fifty grand a year.” The men around him chuckled dirtily. “Seriously, Austin, she is a stunner. Don’t forget about your boys when you’re done with her.” “We can even start a pool to lease her, as long as you’re sharing.” My eyes turned to ice. I grabbed his wrist in a vice grip and flung his hand away. “I’ll settle my accounts with you later,” I said, my voice dead calm. “Right now, I have an appointment in Suite One.” The table fell dead silent for a beat. Then, it exploded into a deafening roar of laughter, as if I had just delivered the punchline of the century. Austin laughed so hard he had to clutch his stomach. “Gwen, did they teach you how to tell fairy tales in prison?” The others chimed in. “The Summit Club is exclusive as hell. Even Austin only has access to the main lounge.” “Suite One is reserved for VIPs. Only people like Mr. Burke Pierce can book that room.” “They wouldn’t even hire you as a maid with your criminal record.” “Stop dreaming, honey. Just crawl back to Austin.” I swept a freezing gaze over them. “The person I’m meeting is Burke Pierce, CEO of Apex Enterprises.” The laughter stopped instantly. Doubts and confusion flickered across their faces. Then, a sharp, haughty female voice cut through the air. “Oh? That’s funny. As Mr. Pierce’s personal secretary, how is it that I had no idea he was hosting a private meeting in Suite One?” I turned. A young woman dressed in a tailored designer dress was walking toward us, her eyes brimming with patronizing disdain. The moment Austin saw her, he rushed over to wrap an arm around her waist, his posture instantly shifting into a sycophantic, eager-to-please pose. Vicky Mercer gave a cold sniff. “Mr. Pierce is in New York today on business. There is zero chance he’s in this club. If you’re going to lie, at least do some research first.” I raised an eyebrow. Burke had hired me to be the Chief Financial Officer of Apex Enterprises, yet he hadn’t even told his personal secretary. This was getting interesting. Emboldened by Vicky’s presence, Austin pointed at me, eager to explain. “Vicky, babe, this is that little accountant I told you about—the one I chased on a dare. She’s just throwing a tantrum because she’s not happy with the allowance I offered her.” Vicky sneered. “An ex-con pretending she’s on Mr. Pierce’s calendar? Delusional.” I tilted my head, genuinely curious. “Austin just offered to keep me as his plaything right in front of you. You aren’t even a little jealous?” Vicky let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “In our social circle, marriage is an alliance of assets. What he does on the side is irrelevant, as long as he doesn’t embarrass the Mercer family name.” Austin nodded eagerly. “Vicky is practical. I am the Vice President of Apex Education Group, after all. Only a woman of Vicky’s pedigree is fit to stand by my side. You, Gwen, are just a distraction. Though, if you play your cards right, I might let you carry a surrogate child for us. Pregnancy would ruin Vicky’s figure, after all.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I drifted into quiet thought. My inmate friend back in prison, Frank, had been framed and sent away precisely because of financial discrepancies within Apex Education Group. Before my release, he had begged me to find Burke Pierce and untangle the company’s books. Looking at the smug couple in front of me, it seemed the rats had walked right into my path. I checked my watch. I had exactly five minutes before my scheduled meeting with Burke. I had no desire to waste another second arguing with fools, so I turned toward the hallway. “Hold on!” Austin barked. I sighed, turning back with sheer irritation. With a violent swipe of his arm, he crashed the wine glasses, plates, and leftovers off the table. They shattered across the marble floor in a messy pool. “Clean it up,” he commanded, looking down his nose at me. I stared at him, incredulous. “Excuse me?” Austin smirked. “An ex-con like you getting into The Summit Club? You must have snuck in to work the cleaning shift. The floor is dirty, jailbird. Get on your knees and lick it clean.” The table roared with laughter again, their predatory eyes locking onto me. “Go on, lick it!” “Don’t ruin our night, sweetheart. Do your job!” From the moment I walked in, they had done nothing but degrade me. At first, I found it pathetic. But now, a cold, sharp anger was beginning to burn through my veins. I looked at them, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. “Are you absolutely sure you want to waste my time? I have five minutes before my meeting with Mr. Pierce. You know his reputation. If he’s kept waiting, none of you will survive the fallout.” “Still playing the part, are we?” Vicky scoffed. “I bet there isn’t any executive in Suite One. Just some bald, wrinkly sugar daddy who paid for your cheap thrill.” Austin’s face darkened, his eyes filling with sudden disgust. “Gwen, I really underestimated how low you’d sink. Selling yourself to old creeps for a quick buck?” He seemed to make a decision. “Fine. I’ll increase my offer. Sixty thousand a year. Being with me is a hell of a lot better than letting some old bastard use you.” A dry laugh escaped my throat. Sixty thousand? Did he truly believe I was desperate enough for his pitiful crumbs? “You don’t believe me?” I pointed down the corridor toward Suite One. “Then walk with me. Let’s find out together who is waiting in that room.” “Excuse me, but is one of you the guest of Mr. Pierce?” a respectful voice called out. The general manager of the club, Mr. Higgins, was walking briskly toward us. I took a step forward. “I am.” The room fell dead silent. The smirks on their faces froze. Vicky’s expression faltered. “Mr. Pierce is actually here?” Mr. Higgins looked at me, his eyes scanning my faded, cheap clothes. He hesitated. I couldn’t blame him—I had just walked out of a federal penitentiary wearing a thirty-dollar target outfit. It was natural for him to doubt me. Without a word, I reached into my bag, pulled out the gold-embossed invitation card Burke had sent me, and handed it over. Mr. Higgins took the card. The moment his eyes registered the watermark and the personal seal, his posture instantly softened into deep deference. “My sincere apologies, Ms. Gwen,” he said, bowing slightly. “Mr. Pierce has been waiting for you. Please, allow me to escort you.” He extended an arm, gesturing toward the private corridor. “Wait!” Austin yelled, stepping forward to block our path. I knit my brows. “What now?” Mr. Higgins frowned. “Mr. Austin, this is Mr. Pierce’s personal guest. Do you really wish to delay her?” Austin paled slightly, raising his hands. “Mr. Higgins, I mean no disrespect to the CEO. But I have to warn you—this woman is no guest.” He pointed a trembling, angry finger at me. “She’s an ex-con who probably swiped that invitation card to sneak in and throw herself at Mr. Pierce. Don’t let her fool you.” “An ex-con?” Mr. Higgins blinked. Seeing the manager hesitate, Austin pressed on, his voice filled with triumph. “You have no idea. She was just released today after serving three years for grand theft. She’s desperate for a rich benefactor. A man of Mr. Pierce’s stature would never meet privately with a common felon. It’s absurd!” The crowd quickly joined the chorus. “A thief trying to climb the social ladder!” “Throw her out before she offends Mr. Pierce!” “Mr. Higgins, remember that gold-digger who stole a pass last year? The club’s reputation took a huge hit. Don’t make the same mistake.” Mr. Higgins’s expression grew increasingly grim. “Ms. Gwen… is it true? Have you served prison time?” I looked at the sea of mocking faces, finding the entire scene incredibly absurd. They knew I had a record, but they didn’t have the slightest understanding of what kind of prison I had been in. “I was at Otisville,” I said quietly. But Mr. Higgins’s face remained blank. Like the rest of them, he didn’t comprehend the weight of that name. “Otisville, Danbury, who cares?” one of Austin’s friends sneered. “A jailbird is a jailbird!” They didn’t understand. Yes, Otisville housed criminals. But it was reserved for the brilliant, the high-profile, and those whose crimes required a certain level of genius to pull off. It was a facility for elite white-collar offenders, not petty thieves. Seeing my silence, Austin took it as a sign of defeat. “See? She’s got nothing to say. She stole it! A parasite like her deserves to lick the floor clean and be thrown out into the street. Let’s teach her a lesson about showing her face around here!” “Yeah, clean it up!” “Get out of here, felon!” Before I could react, someone kicked the back of my knees. A sharp pain shot up my legs, and I fell hard onto the cold marble. Austin grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing my face down toward the broken plates and spilled food. “You arrogant bitch, act proud now!” Vicky stood by, her eyes sparkling with malicious amusement. I struggled, but I was outnumbered. Leftover sauce smeared onto my face and clothes. The sharp edge of a shattered porcelain plate sliced across my forearm, leaving a stinging trail of blood. The crowd roared with laughter, and a couple of the men began to roughly pull at my jacket. Mr. Higgins retreated to the side, his face twisted in disgust, preparing to leave the room to look for Burke’s “actual” guest. Suddenly, a cold, thunderous voice echoed through the lounge. “Stop this instantly!” “Who gave you the authority to lay a hand on my guest?”

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  • No Forgiveness In The Snow

    We were in the middle of packing our bags for Vienna when Mona suddenly snapped her suitcase shut. I looked up, confused. She held her phone out to me. “I canceled my study abroad application,” she said. “I’m staying here to go to college with Tom.” The words hit me like a physical blow. My voice trembled as I asked, “What about me?” She reached out, her fingers brushing my cheek with the same comforting warmth she’d always shown me. “My Jude is so strong. You won’t be scared going abroad alone, right?” “Tom is different. He’s fragile. I need to be here for him, or I’ll never have peace of mind.” A cold chill ran down my spine. My fingers clenched around the handle of my suitcase. Mona’s voice sounded distant, as if drifting through a thick fog. “You and Tom are like brothers. You wouldn’t want him to be alone here either, right?” I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could make a sound, glowing lines of text began to float across my vision. [Here it is. The turning point of their lives.] [If the male lead forces her to go abroad with him, Tom will get bullied at school and eventually jump off a building.] [But if he agrees, Mona will slowly fall for Tom over time. She’ll even sleep with him on her wedding day with Jude!] The words choked the breath right out of my throat. Mona nudged my shoulder. “Jude? If you’re not saying anything, I’ll take that as a yes.” 1 Mona probably never intended to give me a choice anyway. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. When she opened it, my heart sank. Inside was the exact ring I had texted her about weeks ago, telling her how much I loved it. She had promised back then to save it in her notes. “I bought the ring you wanted,” she said, her voice soft. “Wear it, and everyone will know you’re taken.” “That way, no one else can eye my Jude. When you come back from Europe, we’ll get married, okay?” She leaned down to look me in the eye. Her gaze was tender, full of the same devotion I had known for years. Usually, when she looked at me like that, my heart would race. But this time, it gave one erratic thud and went completely quiet. As Mona reached to slip the ring onto my finger, the phantom comments flickered back to life across my eyes. [She shouldn’t have gone into pre-med. She should have gone into acting.] [Who would believe she was wrapping Tom in a warm, tearful embrace just an hour ago, and now she’s standing here playing the devoted girlfriend?] An hour ago. I had waited outside Mona’s house for three hours. She told me she was stuck in traffic. Turns out, she was with Tom. My fingers involuntarily curled inward, slipping away from the ring she held. A frown creased her beautiful forehead. She opened her mouth to speak, but her ringtone cut her off. The custom ringtone I had recorded for her had been replaced by a different tune—one she had set for Tom. The cheerful beat pounded against my eardrums like a hammer, making it hard to breathe. Mona tapped the screen and answered. It was him. She listened for barely a second before leaping to her feet, panic written all over her face. “Don’t panic! Stay exactly where you are, I’m coming!” She hung up and didn’t look at me again. Tossing the ring carelessly into my lap, she spoke in a breathless rush. “Tom got scraped by a car. I have to go check on him.” She ran out of the room, her hurried footsteps fading down the hall. I watched her go. The ring had bounced off my lap and rolled onto the floor, disappearing somewhere in the shadows. [Isn’t he going to look for it? He used to treasure that ring so much.] I slowly tried to stand, but my legs had gone completely numb from kneeling. I stumbled, collapsing back onto the floor. My knee slammed against the sharp edge of the desk. The pain was the final catalyst; the tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. I don’t know how long I sat there crying, until the room was completely silent and my throat was raw. I pulled out my phone and called my dad. “Dad, I don’t want to go to Europe anymore.” My dad sounded confused. “I thought you and Mona had it all planned out. Why the sudden change?” The comments flared up again. [Wait, is the male lead staying too?] [Actually, that might be for the best. If he stays, Tom won’t get hurt, and Mona won’t stray.] I let my eyes scan the words. My eyes were red and swollen, but my face felt entirely blank. “I’m not staying, Dad. I want to come to Iceland. Didn’t you want me to move out there and live with you?” There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by my dad’s ecstatic cheer. The floating texts seemed as stunned by my choice as he was. They went entirely silent, like someone had hit pause. I didn’t look for the ring. The empty velvet box sat lonely on the desk, weighing down the European travel itinerary Mona had spent six months putting together. Her notebook was packed with detailed schedules and handwritten notes. On my way out, I grabbed it. Mona wouldn’t be needing it anymore anyway. When I reached the street, I threw the notebook and the empty box into a roadside trash can. As I turned around, my eyes met Mona’s. Her gaze lingered on the trash can for a split second before she marched up to me and grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but her grip was tight. I frowned. “I thought you were with Tom. Why are you back?” Her frown was deeper than mine. “He’s fine.” “But he heard we were both leaving and got so upset he went to a bar to drink himself into a stupor.” “I told him I was staying, but he wouldn’t believe me. You need to come tell him. He always listens to you.” She dragged me forward, but I dug my heels in and forced her to stop. “Where is he?” “At the bar—” Mona turned around impatiently, but her voice died in her throat. A sudden wave of guilt and pity washed over her face. “I’m sorry, Jude. I forgot.” “Wait for me at the convenience store across the street, okay? I’ll bring him out to you.” Once we reached the storefront, Mona shoved a warm cup of milk tea into my hands and rushed across the street. The rising steam from the cup blurred her silhouette through the glass window. After our high school graduation, Tom had insisted on going to a bar. Halfway through the night, he went to the restroom and never came back. Mona, worried sick, left me alone at our table to go search for him. She was gone for two hours. I tried calling both of them, but neither answered. When I finally decided to leave, a group of drunk guys blocked my path. Fortunately, I ran into some classmates from school who got me out. When I finally stumbled out of the bar, shaking, I saw Mona carrying Tom on her back, walking slowly down the street. When she saw me, she didn’t ask if I was okay. She just put her index finger to her lips. Shh. Don’t wake Tom. I should have found it strange back then. Mona had always complained about Tom following me around like a lost puppy. And Tom always acted like Mona wasn’t good enough for me. They supposedly couldn’t stand each other. I had no idea when their relationship had shifted. But seeing her carry him that night—with a gentleness usually reserved for fragile porcelain—told me everything. By the time the two familiar figures approached the convenience store, my milk tea had gone cold. The chime of the entrance door rang out. Tom draped an arm over my shoulder, acting as clingy and affectionate as ever. “Jude, please don’t abandon me.” Before I could speak, Mona tapped his forehead with her finger. “Oh, please. I’m staying here with you. Isn’t that enough to make you happy?” Tom immediately lunged at her, laughing and play-fighting. Their laughter filled the small convenience store. I sat there, looking like an intruder who had stumbled into their private world. Completely out of place. [What do they mean ‘developed feelings over time’? I bet she already has feelings for Tom right now.] [But when Jude went abroad in the original timeline, she flew to Europe every two weeks. If she didn’t love him, how could she do that?] [She loves them both!] Those words felt like a stone dropped into a quiet pond, sending ripples of unease through my chest. I rubbed my tired, stinging eyes. They immediately noticed and crowded around me with concerned faces. Tom glanced at the cold cup in my hand. “It’s freezing. Let me get you a hot one.” “But Jude, since when do you drink this flavor?” Beside him, Mona froze. She realized it too. That was Tom’s favorite flavor, not mine. When Tom returned and pressed a fresh, hot cup into my hands, I forced a smile. “We’re about to go our separate ways. I guess I’m just distracted and sad.” Tom pouted. “I’m the one who should be sad. Both of you are leaving me behind.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Mona shoot me a look. There was a trace of irritation in her voice as she said, “Didn’t I say…” I cut her off. “Didn’t Mona say she’s staying here to keep you company?” On the walk back, Mona kept a deliberate distance, trailing a few paces behind me. Only when we reached the fork in the road did she hesitate and speak. “Are you mad at me for staying with Tom?” She had been acting off since we left the store. Now I knew why. Seeing that I didn’t seem to care whether she went abroad or not had made her anxious. I nodded, answering honestly. “I was angry at first.” “But you’re right. I’m strong. Tom needs someone more than I do.” In truth, I wasn’t brave at all. I was terrified of the dark. When I was bullied as a child, I never fought back. It was always Mona who stood in front of me. She used to call me a coward, but she’d smile and promise she’d protect me forever. She hadn’t changed. She just chose someone else to protect. I ignored the swirling emotions in her eyes and turned to leave. But she grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Where is the ring I gave you?” Just as I was about to tell her the truth, her phone rang again. I assumed it was Tom, but when she answered, her expression shifted into something strange as she stared at me. I frowned. She hung up and stepped closer. “You’re not going to Europe?” I froze. Mona crossed her arms, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “No wonder you weren’t angry. You’re staying in the country too, aren’t you?” “Jude, wasn’t that European music academy your dream school?” “Throwing away your ambition just for me?” My bewildered expression slowly faded. My chest felt hollow. Not painful, just cold. She had forgotten. My dream school wasn’t in Europe; it was in Iceland. I had only applied to the European school for her. But none of that mattered now. Before I could clarify, she cut me off again. “You didn’t even bring the ring. Don’t tell me you’re jealous because you think there’s something going on between me and Tom?” “You were the one who told me to look out for him, Jude. Since when did you get so petty?” The sudden accusation left me stunned. I clenched my fists and looked her dead in the eye. “Petty?” “Mona, can you honestly tell me you don’t have feelings for Tom?” A sudden clatter sounded behind us. Tom stood there, wide-eyed and trembling, holding a dropped bag. His eyes welled with tears, and his first instinct was to look at me. “Jude…” “Don’t act like you didn’t know,” I said, cutting him off. Tom opened his mouth repeatedly, but no sound came out. An overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. I just wanted to go home. But Tom grabbed my sleeve. “Jude, nothing happened between Mona and me, I swear. Please believe me…” His eyes were red. He looked just as helpless and pitiful as the day I first met him. The floating comments buzzed. [The side character actually cares about the main character, he’s just blindly in love with the girl.] [Please, he’s just a manipulative snake. If he really cared about Jude, would he keep playing the victim in front of Mona over and over?] I sighed. Before I could speak, Mona stepped between us. Her face was dark. “Enough, Jude. Stop cornering him.” “If this is all because you want me to go to Europe with you, fine! I’ll go! Is that what you want?” I wanted to tell her no. I really didn’t want that. But suddenly, a pair of headlights blinded us as an out-of-control car swerved off the road, hurtling toward the sidewalk. My instinct was to grab Tom and pull him out of the way, but a violent force shoved me aside, separating us. I was thrown hard against the asphalt. The last image I saw before blacking out was Mona, desperately throwing her arms around Tom to shield him. I woke up to the sound of hushed, tense arguing. Tom’s voice sounded fragile, laced with tears. “We can’t do this. I can’t betray Jude like this.” Mona’s voice was raw and strained. “Tom, isn’t it a bit late for that?” “If you felt so guilty toward Jude, why did you kiss me the night I ran out to find you?” My breath hitched in my throat. The cracks in my heart shattered completely, crumbling into dust. Through the thin hospital curtain, I saw their silhouettes shift. Their shadows merged in an intimate, unmistakable embrace. I dug my fingernails into my palms, numb to the physical pain. Tom’s weak resistance faded into silence. It only ended when a nurse pushed the door open. “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” The two shadows behind the curtain instantly sprang apart. When Mona stepped out, her shirt was noticeably wrinkled. I rasped out a quiet, “I’m okay.” The nurse assured me I was lucky—only a fractured leg. Once she left, Mona’s gaze drifted to my cast. “Does it hurt?” The guilt and pain on her face looked entirely genuine. But a wave of intense nausea surged from my stomach, forcing tears to the corners of my eyes. Mona reached out to wipe them away, but I flinched, pulling my face back. Her hand froze in midair, and her expression cooled. “Jude, in a moment like that, I didn’t have time to think.” “If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don’t take it out on Tom.” She glanced back toward the curtain, her eyes softening. “He looks up to you more than anyone. No matter what happens between us, don’t hate him.” “I’ll still go to Europe with you, and I’ll keep my promise to marry you. But I will also take care of Tom for the rest of his life.” [Ugh, she wants her cake and eat it too.] [Is she trying to build a harem? Keep dreaming, sister!] I couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Hearing my laughter, Tom stepped out from behind the curtain, looking utterly lost. Mona frowned. “That’s enough, Jude. It’s settled.” “I’m going to take Tom home first. I’ve arranged a private nurse to come help you.” I closed my eyes and turned my face to the wall. I heard the door click shut. The next day, Tom showed up with a thermos of chicken soup. He kept his head down, refusing to meet my eyes. “When did you fall in love with Mona?” I asked quietly. Tom’s hand trembled as he poured the soup. It took him a long moment to answer. “Freshman year? Sophomore year? I don’t remember.” “So you used to talk trash about her just to keep me away from her?” He shook his head quickly. “No. I genuinely believed she wasn’t good enough for you.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Should I thank you then? For helping me see her true colors.” His eyes reddened, and his hands clenched into tight fists. “She has her flaws. But to me, she’s the best option I’ll ever have.” “I’m sorry, Jude.” Before I could process what he meant, he tilted the thermos and poured the steaming hot soup directly over his own arm. The hospital room door was kicked open. Mona burst in, throwing a bouquet of roses straight at my face. The sharp thorns scratched my cheek, and a drop of blood dripped onto the white bedsheets. She shielded Tom behind her, her eyes blazing with fury. “Jude! If you have a problem, take it out on me!” “Tom is your best friend. How could you burn him like this?” Maybe the sting on my cheek was just too sharp, but the tears finally spilled over. I swept the remaining soup containers off the bedside table, scattering red rose petals all over the floor. “Get out!” I screamed. “Both of you, get the hell out!” For the next month, until my leg healed and I was discharged, neither of them showed up. Tom sent me daily text messages checking in on me. Mona, on the other hand, frequently updated her social media. She was taking Tom on a trip across the country. I glanced at the photos of them smiling together, then calmly blocked both of their numbers. Because of that, I never saw the text Mona sent me a month later. She wrote: I’ll pick you up on departure day so we can head to the airport together. But she had no idea. By the time she sent that text, I was already on a flight to Iceland. When the message failed to deliver, Mona stared at the little red exclamation mark on her screen in disbelief.

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