Category: English

Never Cheat on a Billionaire. On the day of our holiday family gathering, my wife, Vivian Hayes, with whom I had signed a prenuptial agreement stipulating a 10,000x payback of my assets if she cheated, took her young assistant, Liam Foster, to my private vineyard. She claimed Liam was away from his family and she wanted to make him feel truly welcome and cherished. So she lavished billions on him right there, splashing out money just to see him smile. As their emotions deepened, fueled by the cheers of the crowd, they linked arms and shared an intimate toast. My assistant sent me a screenshot from Liam Foster’s SnapChat story: “You truly become yourself when you meet the right person.” In the photo, the look in Vivian Hayes’ eyes as she gazed at him was brimming with an unadulterated affection, a fervent tenderness I hadn’t seen in five long years. I smirked, then casually froze her supplementary credit card – the one with a hundred billion dollar limit. “Honey, I’m doing a team-building event with my staff. Why isn’t my card working?” she called, her voice tight. “Everyone’s watching. Don’t make me look bad.” I replied calmly, “Ms. Hayes, have you forgotten who you are?” She hesitated for a moment. “Honey, don’t joke around with me. You’ll spoil everyone’s fun.” “Oh, really? If you love drinking so much, then live stream yourself chugging every bottle in the vineyard. I’ll unfreeze the card instantly.” A minute passed. She hadn’t taken a single sip. I sent her a trending news headline instead: “Hayes Group’s Hundred-Billion-Dollar Company Declared Bankrupt.” Since she loved splurging billions on her little assistant, I figured she should experience a thousandfold payback first!

As Wall Street reeled from a hundred-billion-dollar company collapsing in an instant, Vivian Hayes FaceTimed me. “Honey, stop messing with me! There are tens of thousands of bottles here. How can I possibly drink them all? It’ll kill me!” She looked pleading, yet utterly helpless. I chuckled. “I’ll ask just one question: Drink? Or not drink?” “You only have one minute, by the way! After all, people always have to pay for their actions…” I hadn’t even finished speaking when she hung up. Soon, her colleagues who were there sent me a video. In it, Vivian Hayes picked up bottle after bottle of red wine from the table, chugging them down like tap water. In another corner of the video, the white t-shirt boy was frantically yelling “Don’t drink!” looking ready to fight the person who forced Vivian to drink. With a cold scoff, I grabbed my bag and headed to the vineyard. On the way, my colleagues kept sending me messages. “Mr. Thorne, Ms. Hayes has already had thirteen bottles. Is she really okay?” “Her little assistant is over there, crying pathetically. It’s so annoying! Who does he think he is? I just want to slap him!” “Mr. Thorne, Liam Foster’s resignation letter is ready. When should we notify him?” “Some women get a little power and really start to believe they’re untouchable. Can’t wait to see her downfall!” I let out a soft laugh. It wasn’t that I absolutely had to confront her face-to-face. After all, I rake in millions every minute. She’s not worth even a second of my time. But people have to pay for their mistakes. And this whole spectacle wouldn’t be complete without me, would it? I pushed open the door and walked toward Vivian Hayes, who was sprawled on the couch, clearly drunk. My colleagues, seeing me, nervously tried to pull her up. She irritably shook them off. “What do you want!?” I watched as she lifted her head, her eyes flashing with resentment for a split second before it morphed into a desperate plea. “Honey, is that enough…? I’ve had twenty bottles.” Seeing Vivian’s pathetic act, I squatted down, gripping her chin. With my thumb and forefinger, I forced her lips into a smile. “What’s wrong, darling? Not having fun drinking? Smile for me, or someone might think I, Alexander Thorne, am mistreating you.” Vivian turned her head away in humiliation. I roughly twisted her chin back. “What, already feeling sorry for yourself? Weren’t you having such a blast with that intimate toast earlier?” Vivian opened her mouth, as if to explain, but ultimately said nothing. “You, how could you treat your wife like that? Don’t you see how drunk Ms. Hayes is? Just because you’re rich, you think you can insult people however you want?!” “Hey! Say something!” Liam, in his white tee and jeans, his eyes red-rimmed, puffed up his chest, trying to act tough as he shielded Vivian behind him. I smirked dismissively. But I ignored him, my gaze fixed on Vivian Hayes, who had stopped drinking and turned to meet my eyes. “What? You want to stand up for him?!” Vivian’s eyes were unreadable. She paused, then picked up another bottle of wine and chugged most of it down in one go. A cold smile played on my lips as I slanted a glance at the boy. Our eyes met, and he took two steps back. But then something seemed to click in his mind, and he angrily retorted, “What? Am I wrong? Who treats their wife like this? You have no sympathy!” I laughed, walking toward him step by step. With each step I took, he retreated one, until he was backed against the wall, nowhere left to go. I stood over him, laughing condescendingly. “What? So you *do* know this is someone else’s wife, huh? So, how does it feel to spend someone else’s money?” Liam’s eyes were red, as if he’d suffered a grave insult. He threw his head back and yelled at me, “You, don’t you dare slander me and Vivian! We’re just colleagues. Your own mind is dirty, that’s why everything you see is dirty!” “No wonder Vivian never wants to come home. You’re so controlling and domineering, what woman could stand it?” “Shut up!” Vivian, no longer feigning drunkenness, snapped sharply. I chuckled softly. “Vivian Hayes, so this is the kind of trash you fall for?” “Being brainless is one thing, but he’d look embarrassing as a mere office decoration. Your taste has really hit rock bottom.” Vivian looked up at me, her eyes filled with anxiety. “Honey, I know I was wrong, but there’s really nothing between me and him.” Before she could finish, I chuckled softly. “Don’t bother. I don’t have time for your nonsense. Finish all these drinks and be home by eleven tonight.” On the drive home, the scenery outside the car window flashed by. I never thought things with Vivian Hayes would become so ugly. Five years ago, she came to interview at my company. She wore a simple white dress, elegant and pure, standing out brightly in the crowd. In just three months, she went from one of over a hundred interns to a full-time employee and then my trusted assistant in one go. But she always did things for me that went beyond work, gestures that were thoughtful yet never crossed a line. She’d always have an extra umbrella for me during the rainy season, remembered every tiny preference I had, and would even mischievously give me candy on Children’s Day. Then, when I turned 25, my family started pressuring me. I was about to enter a marriage alliance with another prominent family. She blushed, stammering, “Mr. Thorne, I know I’m not good enough for you, but I’m afraid if I don’t say some things now, I’ll never have the chance…” “Mr. Thorne… can you wait for me? Wait until I can stand beside you as your equal someday…” Honestly, I was indifferent. High-society alliances, after all, are nothing more than mutually beneficial arrangements. But the young woman’s blushing confession did genuinely move me. However, as the CEO of a trillion-dollar empire, a little bit of emotional stirring didn’t stop me from making her sign a prenuptial agreement. If she ever went back on her word, if she ever cheated on me. Then every penny I spent on her would have to be repaid tenfold. For the next three years, I propelled her from behind the scenes to the forefront. I gave her a net worth of hundreds of billions, and her brother became a massively popular movie star. The Hayes family enjoyed unprecedented glory, their influence unmatched. Everyone greeted her with respect, calling her “Ms. Hayes.” But some things, when acquired too easily, don’t seem to be a good thing. ***PAYWALL*** It was 10:50 PM when Vivian Hayes sent another message. “Honey, I’m closing a deal. I’ll be home late.” I scoffed, indifferently going back to my work. “Martha, did you just make hangover soup? Pour it out!” That night, a colleague sent me a screenshot of Liam’s SnapChat story. “At 4 AM, I saw the crabapple blossoms were still awake.” The accompanying picture was a selfie of Liam, in dim light, with Vivian’s wedding ring reflected in a swirling glass of red wine. Immediately after, a friend sent me a video. Vivian, with Liam and a large group of her friends, clinking glasses and having a wild time at a private club. “Isn’t that your Vivian? She’s really soaring these days!” “Mr. Thorne, are you losing your touch with your wife?” I couldn’t help but laugh dryly. These two, either their combined IQ couldn’t hit triple digits, or they were openly rubbing my face in the dirt. They clearly knew that club was owned by my friend. They clearly knew I’d warned her to be home by eleven. Vivian Hayes, I gave you a chance. You just didn’t cherish it. I sneered, opened my SnapChat chat with Vivian, and casually unpinned her from the top of my contacts. “Ms. Hayes, you’re getting quite bold now.” Two minutes passed. No reply. I asked my assistant, “Did she check her phone?” “She glanced at it, then put it face down on the table.” I let out a sharp laugh. When did Vivian Hayes learn to play hide-and-seek with me? “Evading problems won’t solve them, Ms. Hayes. Don’t you understand that?” Casually, I had my assistant send her brother’s script termination notice, along with the Hayes Group acquisition agreement. “Alexander Thorne, you’ve gone too far!” She FaceTimed me directly, her face flushed, brows furrowed. I slowly sipped my red wine. “Heh, this is ‘too far’? Vivian Hayes, is this your first day knowing me?” I set my phone aside and slowly said, “I’m a little unhappy today.” “I’ll give you two choices. Either live-stream yourself slapping your own face, and while you’re at it, call yourself a home-wrecker – make sure you hit hard enough that everyone, even the stray dogs on the street, hears it. Let me check the time… It’s 11:20 PM, isn’t it? If it goes over 1200 seconds, then that’s 1200 slaps.” “Or, you can make that man get on stage right now and perform a striptease.” “Just do one, to cheer me up, okay?”

Friends kept sending me videos recorded live from the White Lily Club. Liam Foster, truly looking like a delicate, wilting flower. His afternoon white tee and jeans were replaced with skimpy clothing, just a few silver chains barely covering his body. He cowered on the stage, his face full of resentment, yet he had no choice but to comply. The audience below went wild. The audience, used to bold, hot male models, were absolutely electrified by this starkly contrasting performance, their restless souls wildly agitated. “Do you know who’s on stage? Ms. Hayes from Hayes Group’s toy boy!” “Apparently, the real boss caught them red-handed, and that’s how we got this amazing show!” “Holy cow, Mr. Thorne, you’ve got quite the entertainment lined up! My club’s revenue today is going to double!” my friend excitedly messaged me. “This is just the beginning.” The next second, I told my assistant to go to the club and scatter a billion dollars on the spot. The entire club floor was covered in red cash, like heaven. “Liam Foster’s dance was great today. Mr. Thorne is in a good mood, so let everyone have some fun.” The cheers from the crowd were deafening, enough to blow the roof off. “Mr. Thorne is a legend! Happier than winning the lottery, that’s what this is!” “But Alex, are you really okay?” my friend asked, a hint of worry in his voice. I scoffed. “You call this ‘something’?” Half an hour later, Vivian Hayes returned, her face haggard, a cold, defeated expression etched on her features. “Alexander Thorne, are you satisfied now?” I held my red wine, scrutinizing this broken, haggard woman, and shook my head. I scoffed and walked directly into the bedroom. “Alexander Thorne, I’m truly so disappointed in you! I never thought you’d treat a young man fresh out of college like this!” “He’s so naive and kind. How will he ever be able to hold his head high after being publicly humiliated by you like that?” Through the closed door, every word of Vivian Hayes’ voice was laced with resentment. I opened the door and leaned against the frame, watching the woman who claimed to have loved me for five years, now gritting her teeth and questioning me with hatred. Instead of getting angry, I laughed. “Naive?” “Vivian Hayes, tell me, is there any part of you that he hasn’t touched? And you call him ‘naive’?” Vivian’s face flushed instantly. “Are you listening to rumors again? Alexander Thorne, I know many people in the company are loyal to you, but do you have absolutely no trust in your own wife?” “Hmph, trust?” “You were practically sleeping with him right in front of my damn face. What? If there’s no evidence, it doesn’t count as cheating, right?” “Well, I’ll tell you what. I just don’t f***ing like him, alright?!” Seeing my indifferent expression, Vivian clenched her fists, wanting to say something, but ultimately remaining silent. “And another thing, Vivian Hayes. If you had reached where you are today purely by your own merit, even if you kept a hundred toy boys outside, you’d still be my wife when you came home. But now, you’re taking my money and spending it on other men? Whose face are you slapping now?” As I spoke, I walked up to her, looking up at her eyes, which, though showing faint lines, were still beautiful. *Pat, pat, pat.* I lightly slapped her cheek, a faint smile on my face. As if suddenly realizing something, she tensed. “Alex, you wouldn’t…” I turned around and took a stack of photos from my bag. “Yes, exactly what you’re thinking.” “Look, they’re all lining up to be Mrs. Thorne. Looks, figure, education – which one isn’t better than you? And they know how to please, they’re good in bed.” “More importantly, they’re all younger than you.” With that, I gave a pitying glance at her increasingly fatigued face. Vivian Hayes deflated like a punctured balloon. “If it weren’t for the fact that you’re my wife, heh.” At the bottom of the stack of photos was that prenuptial agreement, the one with the ten thousand times payback clause. “What happened with your brother and your dad was just a warning. You should know that if I can take you from having nothing to becoming Ms. Hayes, a woman everyone gives face to, I can also make you…” I didn’t say the last few words, just gave her another scrutinizing look. And that single glance caused Vivian Hayes to suddenly lunge into my arms. “Honey, I’m sorry, I… I’ve just been under too much stress lately.” “But I really didn’t cheat. I, I’ve always loved you…” The moment she embraced me, the scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and cheap men’s cologne from her overwhelmed me. A violent wave of nausea surged through me. I pushed her away, perhaps a little too forcefully. She stumbled, hitting the doorknob, but I felt no pity. “Vivian Hayes, why do you think I’d believe a word you say?” *Thud.* Vivian suddenly knelt down. *Slap, slap, slap, slap…* Left cheek, then right cheek, she kept slapping herself. In that instant, I felt absolutely nothing. I got up and walked directly to my study. Only when I opened the door did I turn my head, my tone serious for the last time. “You don’t need to put on this act for me. I’m busy. But I am seriously informing you: this is the first and last time between us. I won’t give you another chance. Think carefully.” “Think about how you got to where you are today. And then give me a satisfactory answer tomorrow.”

The next day, Vivian Hayes fired Liam Foster in front of the entire company. Liam walked out of the company, clutching a cardboard box, tears welling in his eyes, resentment clear in their depths. “Oh, isn’t that the guy who tried to climb into bed to get ahead? What, found another rich woman?” “Beware, green tea boys are on the loose! Watch your wives, everyone.” “It’s only because our Mr. Thorne is so magnanimous and doesn’t bother with him. Otherwise, just for spending other people’s money, he’d be paying it back for three generations!” From that day on, Vivian Hayes indeed behaved herself much more. She worked diligently at the company, came home to massage my legs and wash my feet, and even learned a few new Cantonese dishes to please me. Her brother even came over under the guise of wanting a free meal, representing the whole family to thoroughly scold Vivian. A month later, while I was on a business trip to the US, my trust fund manager suddenly contacted me. “Mr. Thorne, do you still wish to transfer the private island you purchased earlier to Mr. Liam Foster?” I paused, then remembered the prenuptial agreement with the tenfold payback clause. “Just follow my wife’s instructions.” Loyalty or betrayal, the outcome had been decided the moment she made her choice. It seemed she still hadn’t learned her lesson. And I, I needed to make her understand the price of betrayal. “Mr. Thorne, Vivian’s back with that guy again. He’s really arrogant this time, making our servers kneel to him.” “Looks like he wants to reclaim his lost dignity.” “Laughable, no one actually cares.” I scoffed. “That’s where you’re wrong. He’s a returning customer, after all. Don’t you dare neglect him.” In the video my friend sent, Liam Foster had shed his previous rustic image. He was dressed in a bespoke suit, even his tie was a limited edition. But his slicked-back hair looked awkward, and his inexperienced face couldn’t quite carry the sophisticated look. “Vivian Hayes, I truly underestimated you.” I sneered and had my assistant rebook my flight. I flew back to the company the very next day. I had just reached the conference room door when I heard her speaking inside. “Do you really think Alexander Thorne considers you his confidantes? Does a man like him even have feelings?” “From now on, report any of his movements to me promptly. You won’t be shortchanged.” I leaned against the doorway, smiling as I looked into the conference room, meeting Vivian Hayes’ face as she just looked up. Her expression was priceless. “Ms. Hayes, what kind of man am I, exactly?” Several executives, seeing me enter, handed me a voice recorder and a miniature camera. They respectfully said, “Mr. Thorne, all conversations are recorded here.” “Don’t worry, we know who the boss is.” Sensing the shift in atmosphere, they quickly made excuses and backed out. “Vivian Hayes, I’m giving you a chance to explain. Go on.” Vivian had already composed herself, using anger to mask her guilt. “Explain what? I was just holding a meeting with the senior executives.” “What, you rushed back so suddenly? You still don’t trust me?” Vivian went on the offensive, looking utterly disappointed. “Okay, then just sign this.” I tossed a divorce agreement onto the table in front of her. “And these two documents: this is the prenuptial property certificate, and this is the lawsuit for illegal possession of another’s assets. By tomorrow noon, 12 PM, you and Liam Foster will receive court summons. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Are you insane, Alexander Thorne? What more do you want from me?” “I already fired Liam. I work like a dog at the company all day, and then I have to come home and serve you.” “Not only do you not trust me, you even plant spies around me? Now you want a divorce? Can’t you be less tyrannical!” With that, she slammed the door and stormed out. “I’m a person, not your dog!” Watching her indignant back, I smiled and shook my head. Some dogs, indeed, start to think they’re people. My friend heard I was back in the country and upset by my disobedient lapdog. “Come on, Alex. Tonight, I’m going to ‘light up the night’ for you at the auction! Pick anything you like from the whole place!” As soon as we arrived, I heard someone shout, “Isn’t that Ms. Hayes from Hayes Group? I heard she once spent billions for her beloved’s smile!” From afar, Vivian Hayes was in a bespoke gown, adorned with expensive accessories, every strand of her hair exuding luxury. She had indeed enjoyed a good life for a few years. Liam Foster was also meticulously dressed, showing no trace of his previous disheveled appearance at the club. They both looked at me. Liam’s eyes were full of provocation, and he leaned a little closer to Vivian, their arms brushing, a show of intimacy. Vivian stared at me, her eyes unreadable, carrying a hint of resentment, but she didn’t avert her gaze. When someone complimented them as a perfect couple, she even smiled and nodded, offering no explanation. As the auction began, a gasp rippled through the crowd. “Ms. Hayes is going to ‘light up the night’ for Mr. Foster, buying out the entire auction!” “Holy cow, I’m stunned! I heard Ms. Hayes directly scattered a billion in cash for him before. Today, I’m witnessing true wealth!” “So jealous! I want to be born into a rich family in my next life!” Liam Foster, after all, hadn’t seen much of the world. The joy in his eyes and brows was impossible to hide. When Vivian wasn’t looking, he provocatively raised an eyebrow and smirked at me. My friend couldn’t stand it. He stood up, ready to confront them for me. “That damn dog thinks he’s hot stuff! What a piece of work!” I pressed my friend’s hand down, took out the prenuptial agreement with the tenfold payback clause, and shook my head with a soft smile. “Don’t rush. I want to see how Vivian Hayes plans to ‘light up the night’ today. And how much she can spend?!”

Across half the auction hall, Vivian Hayes sat ramrod straight, appearing confident. Beside her, Liam Foster tried hard to suppress the smile at the corner of his lips, while also deliberately glancing at me. The three parts provocation, seven parts show-off in his eyes were unmistakable. Suddenly, someone hurried towards Vivian, bending down to whisper something in her ear. Vivian clenched her fists, abruptly trying to stand up, but realizing she was at an auction, she merely adjusted her collar and sat back down, saying something to the person. The person bowed and retreated. Vivian looked at me again, still maintaining her forced air of defiance. The host on stage had been deftly changing the subject and smoothing things over for three minutes. The audience below began to whisper, wondering what had happened. Others didn’t know, but I knew very well: forget “lighting up the night,” if Vivian Hayes’ card could even swipe one cent today, then I, Alexander Thorne, was worthless. Just then, the same person scurried back to Vivian, this time with a look of difficulty. Vivian’s face finally turned green. The host on stage grew impatient, but maintained a smile. “Ms. Hayes, are you sure you want to offer one hundred billion dollars to ‘light up the night’ for Mr. Foster here?” “Our staff here have already verified your funds three times, and your qualifications are insufficient.” “How is that possible! There must be something wrong with your machines! Yesterday, I had two hundred billion in my account! What’s going on with you people?” Publicly humiliated, Vivian Hayes’ face was flushed with anger. The staff member was equally impolite. “Ms. Hayes, we’ve verified it five times. Not only do you have no balance in your account, but my colleague from the credit department just said… that your account…” “Said what!” Vivian Hayes snapped impatiently, watching the staff member stammer and cover up. “If you have something to say, say it clearly!” The staff member’s lips moved, and he said in a voice that was neither loud nor soft, “Ms. Hayes, the background check results just showed that your personal account does not have a balance of two hundred billion; instead, it has a debt of two hundred billion.” “And it’s increasing at a rate of 5% per minute.” A ripple of gasps went through the audience. “So this Hayes woman was a fake? And I thought I was going to witness true wealth today!” “You guys don’t know? This Hayes woman married up to Mr. Thorne of Thorne Corp to get her current wealth, but she seems to have upset the real boss recently.” “What? Thorne Corp? Then who’s that guy next to her?” “No need to ask, of course it’s a love triangle.” Seeing everyone around them staring at her and Liam with strange looks, Vivian Hayes finally couldn’t maintain her composure. She looked over the crowd, her gaze fixed on me. “Alexander Thorne, do you have to be so ruthless?” Everyone followed her gaze and looked at me. I felt a little helpless. I hadn’t intended for things to escalate this much today. After all, me, the CEO of Thorne Corp, getting into a public spat with my wife at an auction, was truly undignified. I scoffed. “Ms. Hayes, what’s wrong?” “Why did you freeze my cards? What’s going on with my assets becoming debts?” Of course, she couldn’t say those words aloud. “Are you still angry? Can’t you stop being so unreasonable?” *Clap, clap, clap!* I clapped three times, unhurriedly standing up. Since she insisted on dragging these dirty affairs out into the open, I didn’t need to save her any face. “What do I have to be angry about? Just that my wife wanted to use my money to lavish on her little boy toy?” “Just that my wife, to please her toy boy, gave away my private island without my permission?” “Just that my wife openly brought her toy boy to provoke me right in front of me?” “Vivian Hayes, I actually admire you today. After all, a gutter rat, you managed to drag him into the spotlight.” Despite wearing sunglasses, some people in the crowd recognized me. “Holy crap, it’s confirmed! The real deal is here, confirming the other man!” “The legendary Mr. Thorne! He’s so handsome! Some women are truly cheap. She got tired of the finest delicacies and decided she wanted pig slop instead.” “They used to say Vivian Hayes was crazy for throwing away a rich, handsome man like Mr. Thorne for that guy. Today, I see it for myself. Tsk tsk tsk.” Liam Foster, listening to the whispers and chatter, fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure whether to stand or sit, but ultimately dared not say anything. “Mr. Foster, do you still want this item?” The host smiled as he looked at Vivian Hayes. Vivian bit her lip, gave me one last look, and before she could speak, two uniformed officers entered. “Excuse me, is Vivian Hayes here? And Liam Foster?” “Someone has filed a lawsuit against you for illegal appropriation of property and asset transfer. Please come with us.” The entire hall was stunned, then erupted into boisterous laughter, followed by small groups discussing the event. The protagonists of the entire scene, Vivian Hayes and Liam Foster, watched wide-eyed as the officers entered. “What are you doing? Is it you two? Why are you just standing there? Come with us.” The two of them had lost all their previous dignity and elegance, now looking tense and helpless. Despite the clear displeasure on their faces, they had no choice but to hang their heads and slink away. Vivian gave me one last look. She was always smart; she must have known what was happening. I had been more than generous, after all, I’d warned her yesterday. “Holy cow, instant karma for the cheating duo! So exciting! I heard the last person who went in like that got ten years!” “I think that Vivian Hayes has a screw loose. She had a good life but chose to sing ‘Iron Window Tears’.” … “Didn’t you say you’d get me a gift, huh?” I nudged my friend beside me. He snapped out of his stunned state. “Alex, you’re a real silent operator! You kept this from me, didn’t you?” “This was just a side thing. You promised to bid on three items for me. Today, I’m going to make you pay dearly.” “Forget three! I’ll bid until you’re satisfied, Alex!” Honestly, I hadn’t really intended to do anything to them. It was just that the private island Vivian used to do favors on had a very specific variety of coconut trees, and only that latitude produced the exact sweetness of coconut water I liked, so I was quite annoyed. 24 hours later, Vivian Hayes returned home, looking disheveled and defeated.

*Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock, knock…* A faint, tired knocking came from outside the door. Standing on the second-floor balcony, I looked towards the entrance. Vivian Hayes stood slumped by the front gate like a pathetic stray dog. Her hair was messy, her makeup smeared, and she was missing one high heel. Beside her were some of her luggage and daily necessities, which I’d had Martha throw out. Seeing that I didn’t open the door for a long time, she finally started to panic. “Alex! Alex!” “Alex, open the door! I really know I was wrong this time, please!” She looked in horror at everything scattered on the ground, finally realizing I was serious this time. She looked up and saw me standing on the balcony, arms crossed. Though only twenty yards separated us, it felt like a galaxy. “Alex, please listen to my explanation. Just give me one more chance, I beg you!” She clung to the large iron gate, shouting at me with what sounded like utmost sincerity. I suddenly found it a little amusing. Vivian Hayes, do you even understand what “chance” means? It’s not about me forgiving you, me indulging you, that makes it a chance. It’s because trust, that kind of thing, is inherently a one-time offer. I smirked, then turned and walked back into the bedroom. In the middle of the night, I was suddenly woken by a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, but then quickly fell back into a deep sleep. Accompanied by the pattering rain, I slept peacefully that night, not waking until ten the next morning, feeling completely refreshed. “Mr. Thorne? Mr. Thorne?” Martha’s anxious yet cautious voice came from outside the door. “Come in.” “Ms. Hayes… Vivian Hayes has been out there all night in the rain. Now… now she seems to be in a very bad way.” “Don’t worry about her. Go about your business.” When I gave you a chance, you didn’t take it. Now you’re pathetic, who are you trying to impress? I was truly speechless. How does that saying go? Delayed affection is cheaper than grass. After getting ready, I went to the company. “Mr. Thorne, someone from the Hayes family is waiting for you in your office.” “Understood.” Vivian Hayes’ father, Richard Hayes, and her brother, Daniel Hayes, waited restlessly in my office. Seeing me enter, they quickly stood up. “Son-in-law, it’s all Vivian’s fault for being so foolish. This time, I’ll definitely teach her a good lesson! I’ll make her apologize properly to you!” My father-in-law looked at me with an obsequious, expectant gaze.

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My prenatal check-ups had all been cleared. Yet, my child was born with an incurable, rare genetic disease. Only later did I discover that my doctor husband, Julian Hayes, had deliberately concealed the check-up results for his idealized love, Celeste Sterling’s, graduation thesis. He tricked me into giving birth to a ‘guinea pig’ for Celeste’s medical research. Utterly devastated, I jumped from the hospital rooftop, holding my son, who was wracked with pain. I woke up to find myself reborn when I was seven months pregnant… Clutching the prenatal report that confirmed my baby was healthy, I gently stroked my prominently swollen belly. My mind was reeling, still unable to process the shock of rebirth. Julian Hayes wrapped his arm around me, his face beaming with joy. “Honey, this is wonderful! The prenatal results are perfect. Our baby is perfectly healthy!” His eyes sparkled with excitement, showing no trace of pretense. I subtly slipped out of his embrace. “That’s great. I’m heading home now. You can get back to work.” He stood up with me, took my hand, and personally walked me out of the examination room, his voice still gentle. “Remember to call me when you get home. Eat on time, and don’t forget your prenatal vitamins.” Passing nurses cast envious glances my way. “Dr. Hayes is such a devoted husband. Even with his busy schedule, he personally oversees his wife’s diet and daily life. So many expectant fathers come and go in this hospital, but none are as attentive as Dr. Hayes!” “Right? I even heard Dr. Hayes booked a VIP delivery room ages ago. Their relationship, from high school sweethearts to husband and wife, is truly enviable.” In my past life, hearing words like that would have made me feel like the happiest woman in the world. But now, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Julian didn’t care about me at all. His tenderness and meticulous care over the past seven months had only one purpose: to ensure I’d smoothly deliver an unhealthy child to serve as a human observation experiment for his idealized love, Celeste. If I hadn’t accidentally overheard his conversation with Celeste Sterling in my previous life, while clutching my son as he struggled in agony, I would never have believed it. All for a graduation thesis, he was willing to sacrifice his own flesh and blood. I walked out of the hospital in a daze, my mind replaying the moment I discovered Julian’s secret. Celeste had asked Julian, “Julian, don’t you feel any pain watching your own son suffer like this every day?” Julian sighed. “How can I feel pain for someone I’ve never emotionally invested in? I just see him as a guinea pig for the lab. This is his fate…” “Julian, what if Elara finds out—” “Don’t worry, she doesn’t understand medicine. She’ll believe whatever I tell her. Besides, the baby won’t survive past their first birthday. By then, there’ll be no one to contradict me.” “Julian, thank you. Thanks to you, my thesis will create a sensation in the academic world. My advisor has already approved my direct Ph.D. application.” Julian’s voice was filled with excitement. “Celeste, you never have to thank me. I’d do anything to help you…” They embraced, kissed, and exchanged intimate whispers in the dark stairwell. When I learned the truth, my world crumbled. I took my son, climbed to the rooftop, and jumped. When I woke up again, I found myself reborn, seven months pregnant.

I went to several other authoritative obstetrics and gynecology hospitals in the city for check-ups. The results were drastically different from before. All the doctors unequivocally told me. The baby in my womb suffered from an extremely rare congenital genetic disease. Even if born successfully, they would suffer from recurrent lung infections due to organ dysfunction, indigestion, and stunted growth. According to current medical advancements, they wouldn’t survive past their first birthday. I remembered watching my child in the previous life endure one painful treatment after another after birth. I saw them hooked up to countless tubes, the cold needles piercing their delicate skin. Their tiny body struggled in pain, breathing rapid and shallow, each breath a desperate effort. Their normally chubby cheeks turned blue and lifeless. I couldn’t bear to see the child I’d carried for ten months endure such immense suffering. With tears in my eyes, I suggested giving up. But Julian refused. He firmly told me, “Honey, even if this is a hopeless battle, I will not surrender to cruel fate! I will never give up on our son!” Every night, he would scour academic websites for information about the child’s condition, not missing any possible treatment plan. I was deeply moved, believing I had married such a responsible and good man. Netizens, hearing his story, flooded the comments section with praise. “This is a true hero, shouldering his child’s entire world.” “May this unwavering father’s love light up the path of hope for his child’s life!” Julian’s story spread throughout the medical community. The hospital honored and rewarded him, bringing him both fame and fortune. Only now, looking at the thick stack of reports in my hand, did I understand. Why, despite all my prenatal check-ups being perfectly clear, I had given birth to a child with a rare genetic disease. Julian had hidden the three key data points that could have identified the illness! The doctor looked at the results on the report, her eyes filled with regret and confusion. “It could have been detected at three months pregnant. Why did you wait until now to come in? Oh, what a shame. The baby is fully developed now…” Suddenly, I felt the baby in my belly stretch a leg. A sharp, stinging pain shot through my heart, and tears streamed down my face. I endured the pain and told the doctor, “Please help me schedule an induced abortion.” Baby, don’t blame your mother for being cruel. I simply can’t bear to bring you into this world only to see you suffer so much… Walking out of the hospital, all maternal softness left my eyes, replaced by icy resolve. In my past life, when I learned the truth, I cowardly chose to end my life with my child. Fate pitied me and gave me a second chance. This time, no matter the cost, I would not let Julian have his way.

Hate kept me awake all night. The next morning, Julian returned from his night shift and noticed the dark circles under my eyes. He immediately frowned in displeasure. “Elara, were you up late again? I told you to get enough rest so the baby can be born safely!” I lowered my gaze, hiding the resentment in my eyes, and said nothing. Seeing my silence, Julian softened his voice, coaxing me. “Honey, you’ve worked so hard. I promise, we’ll only have this one baby. After this, I couldn’t bear to see you suffer again. Just for me, bear with it for a few more months.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. His eyes held a depth of love as vast as the ocean, as if I and our child were the most precious treasures of his life. If I hadn’t personally uncovered his secret in my previous life, I doubt I would ever believe this was all an act. I smiled faintly, subtly slipped out of his embrace, and got up to pour him a glass of milk. Due to his profession, Julian was always cautious. Even when catching up on sleep after a night shift, he was a light sleeper. So, I had no choice but to spike his milk. After a few minutes, he fell into a deep sleep. I picked up his phone and unlocked it. The pinned chat on SnapChat was, predictably, Celeste Sterling. I tapped into it. Julian, who always claimed to be too busy, was chatting heatedly with Celeste every day. The chat history made my hands and feet numb, my whole body trembling with rage. Our relationship, from high school sweethearts to husband and wife, spanned ten years, yet I hadn’t realized he was cheating on me with a fellow student right under my nose. I struggled to suppress the overwhelming fury inside me, sliding the screen to start recording. Four months ago, Julian had told Celeste: [Celeste, Elara’s genetic test results are back. The baby might have a rare genetic disease.] [Once she aborts the baby, I’ll propose divorce to her.] [Oh my God… This disease is extremely rare; currently, there are fewer than a hundred known cases worldwide. My graduate thesis is on genetic diseases. If I could get a specific case for in-depth research, my thesis would definitely impress my advisor…] [Julian, are you really going to falsify the prenatal report to trick your wife into having an unhealthy baby for me?] [Celeste, don’t feel guilty. Just consider it my contribution to academia…] [It’s Elara’s and that baby’s honor to fill a gap in current medical research. You could say it’s their proper end.] I thought I had prepared myself mentally, but when the ugly truth was laid bare before my eyes, the flames of anger nearly consumed my reason. If I wasn’t determined to cherish this hard-won second chance at life, I would have rushed into the kitchen immediately, grabbed a knife, and ended the sleeping Julian right then and there. However, for now, I simply collected all the evidence of Julian tampering with the medical reports. Then, I quietly packed my important belongings. The induced abortion was scheduled for two days later. Just as I was fretting over how to evade Julian’s suffocating ‘care’ and constant monitoring, he suddenly looked hesitant and discussed something with me. “Honey, there’s an academic conference in the city, and the hospital is sending me to attend… But don’t worry, I’ll be back as fast as I can.” I suddenly remembered that Celeste Sterling’s birthday was in these few days. As he went into the room to pack his luggage, I secretly called the hospital’s main line. My suspicion was confirmed: he had indeed requested a week of annual leave from the hospital. But this was also a godsend. My top priority now was to escape his sight and successfully undergo the induced abortion. If I lost this opportunity, as the pregnancy progressed, his surveillance over me would only become stricter, and I might well repeat the same tragic fate. As I thought this, my gaze inevitably turned cold. Julian, seeing this, thought I was upset about his sudden trip and quickly embraced me. “Sweetheart, don’t be mad. You must take care of yourself at home alone. I’ll rush back to be with you as soon as I’m done. Right now, you’re the most important thing to me!” Watching his eager departure, I called out to him. “Julian, I heard the nurses at your hospital say you’ve been spending a lot of time with your colleague, Celeste Sterling, lately. Are you going to abandon me and the baby?” His back stiffened. He turned around to reassure me. “Honey, don’t listen to those gossiping busybodies. They’re just jealous of how talented Celeste is. I swear to God, I only love you!” I looked at his feigned affectionate gaze. I barely managed to suppress the urge to vomit my afternoon meal onto his face. Love me? Is loving me disregarding our years of shared history and having an affair with Celeste Sterling? Is loving me concealing prenatal results, tricking me into carrying a sick child for ten months, and then offering them as a human experiment to his mistress? I could hardly believe that the man I had loved so deeply, whose every thoughtful gesture seemed to be for me, was actually hiding such a cruel and horrifying agenda. Julian said many more sweet words to coax me into resting well. After he left, I immediately packed my luggage and checked into the hospital, preparing for the induced abortion.

Two days later, the surgery time arrived. I lay on the hospital bed, being wheeled into the cold operating room. The blinding lights came on, and tears I couldn’t hold back finally streamed down my face. The anesthetic slowly entered my body from my spine. In a daze, I seemed to see that poor child from my previous life. They seemed to have grown a little, reaching out their tiny hands, calling to me: “Mommy…” I grasped their hand and never let go again. When I woke up again, the surgery was over. My swollen belly had deflated, replaced by bandages. I turned my head to look at the fully developed fetus next to me. A barely tolerable pain shot through my abdomen. But this physical trauma was far less than the emotional devastation in my heart. I stared at the ceiling, tears silently falling once more. The doctor in the operating room, seeing my tears, took a piece of gauze and gently wiped them away. She said with sympathy, “An unhealthy child would only suffer if they were born… You’re still young; you can have more children.” The nurse also chimed in, “Don’t cry. You shouldn’t cry during recovery; it’s bad for your eyes.” I weakly nodded. Even strangers showed me compassion, yet my own husband, to please another woman, was willing to make me endure the pain of separation, of losing my own flesh and blood. That night, Julian called me as usual. “Honey, how are you and the baby doing?” “We’re fine,” I said evasively. The intense pain in my abdomen made cold sweat bead on my forehead with every word I spoke. After two days of recovery at the hospital, I checked out and transferred to the hospital’s affiliated maternity center for continued recuperation. Julian’s “business trip” should be over by now. It was time to settle all scores, old and new, between us. So I dialed his number. “Honey, come back quickly! The baby—” Before I could finish, Julian anxiously cut me off, “What’s wrong with the baby?!” I didn’t explain over the phone, just gave him the hospital address and urged him to hurry.

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My so-called best friend got pregnant out of wedlock, and I, being the kind-hearted fool, let her stay in my spare apartment. Only to find out the baby in her belly belonged to my mama’s boy husband. My mother-in-law, who was obsessed with male heirs, told me I was useless, worse than a stray dog. The day after I desperately refused to divorce, the deep freeze apocalypse hit. They threw me out, watching with cold eyes as I froze to death, turning into an ice sculpture. But fate gave me a second chance, along with one wish. “I just wish my best friend gets pregnant with six babies.” The moment I heard my best friend, Seraphina, had her prenatal check-up and discovered she was carrying six babies, I knew. I knew I had been reborn, and Seraphina’s wish for a blessed pregnancy had also come true. “Chloe, thank you so much for letting me stay in your apartment for free, and for coming with me to my appointments.” Seraphina hadn’t revealed her true colors yet, looking genuinely grateful as she gazed at me. I forced back the rising nausea and hatred, managing a seemingly natural smile. “We’re sisters, your problems are my problems.” Back home, my mother-in-law, Eleanor, and my husband, Brandon, were beyond thrilled to hear about Seraphina’s six-baby pregnancy. Eleanor clapped her hands, cackling with glee: “Seraphina is truly amazing! More children are wonderful, aren’t they? Carrying on the family name, ensuring a booming household!” Then, she shot me a venomous glare. “Unlike some people, who’ve been married for two years with no sign of a baby. Just freeloading off us for so long, you’re not even as useful as a dog. At least a dog can get pregnant and have puppies!” Brandon, my pathetic mama’s boy husband, scoffed, “Why are you just standing there like an idiot? Mom gets annoyed just looking at you. If you can’t have kids, can’t you at least cook?!” I bit back my anger, adopting the pleading tone I’d used in my past life. “I was thinking… what if Seraphina stayed in the empty apartment next door? What do you think, Mom?” Eleanor’s expression softened, feigning reluctance. “Fine, I guess. There’s an old superstition back in our hometown that if you take care of a pregnant woman, some of her fertility luck might rub off on you. From now on, you can go take care of Seraphina and catch some of her good fortune!”

In my previous life, my pregnant-out-of-wedlock best friend had cried to me, claiming her baby daddy abandoned her and she was suicidal. I pitied her, decided to help her out, and let her live next door to lend a hand. I was confused by my mother-in-law and mama’s boy husband’s unusual excitement but didn’t think deeply about it. Not until I saw Brandon, Seraphina, and my mother-in-law had formed a three-person group chat. The group name? “Our Loving Family.” That’s when I finally understood. The father of the child in my best friend’s belly was Brandon. They had been seeing each other behind my back for half a year. I confronted the three of them. My mother-in-law, obsessed with male heirs, yanked my hair and started screaming obscenities: “You useless hen! How dare you ask when you can’t even have a child! Do you want the [Family Name] legacy to die out because of you, you pathetic excuse for a wife?!” I tried to get Brandon to help, but he just sided with his mom, pinning me to the floor. “My mom said I need a woman to bear my children. If you can’t, I’ll find your best friend to do it. It’s all the same. Show my mom some respect; it wasn’t easy for her to raise me.” My back was injured, leaving me unable to move in bed. I planned to call the police, but due to extreme blizzard conditions, they never arrived. The next day, the deep freeze apocalypse began. The entire apartment complex started emergency heating early. The roads outside were already covered in heavy snow, and the news announced that the extreme weather would last for a long time. Residents were warned to stay indoors and conserve food and water. Eleanor and Brandon conspired together. “Son, one more person means one more mouth to feed. We can’t let my grandchild go without. Chloe is useless, let’s just kick her out and let her fend for herself.” “Mom, I’ll do whatever you say!” It was below negative thirty degrees Fahrenheit outside; going out meant certain death. No matter how much I begged Brandon, he just repeated: “My mom said you’re just one more mouth to feed!” Within ten minutes, I was hypothermic, frozen solid into an ice statue. But God had eyes. I was reborn. And I was given a wish. My wish was for my best friend, Seraphina, to be blessed with a continuous stream of pregnancies, six at a time. Just wait. My revenge had only just begun.

I immediately had Seraphina move into Brandon’s house instead of the apartment next door. My mother-in-law, as expected, was overjoyed. She warmly held Seraphina’s hand. “Oh, just look at that big backside of yours, definitely the type to bear sons! If all six babies are boys, I’ll be over the moon every single day!” I didn’t show any suspicion, pretending to be completely clueless. Whatever Seraphina craved, I cooked, acting like a complete idiot, even eagerly offering to be the children’s godmother. No matter how much Seraphina and Brandon flirted and put on a show in private, Every night after they fell asleep, I’d get up to scout for a shelter. Counting down the days, the deep freeze apocalypse was only two weeks away. I looked at the one million dollars my father had left me as a dowry and decided to use it to build a comfortable, warm shelter. First, I chose my old family’s abandoned air-raid shelter as my survival spot. It was currently derelict, but in its prime, it had saved the lives of the entire village. This air-raid shelter had been built by a renowned architect who had returned from abroad. I just needed to spend money to renovate it into a secure bunker. I contacted my cousin, Liam, who was still in the village, and asked him to help me with it. Liam was puzzled: “You’re living so well in the city, why suddenly think of that old air-raid shelter in the village? That place is a real dump now.” Seeing I wasn’t willing to reveal too much, Liam didn’t press further, just adding with concern, “If things aren’t going well in the city, coming back to the village is fine too. If you’re ever feeling wronged, remember to tell your big brother.” My eyes welled up a bit. In my past life, my mother-in-law often looked down on me for having relatives in the countryside. She’d mock me, saying I was a country bumpkin trying to act like royalty. But my family background wasn’t bad at all. My father was the first person in our village to get into a top university, and after graduating, he landed a respectable job before meeting my mother. Sadly, a car accident took them both. As I grew up, I made a terrible mistake, failing to see Brandon’s true nature as a mama’s boy. After we married, my mother-in-law constantly checked my phone, terrified I’d use her family’s money to help my own. What she didn’t know was that our village had become quite prosperous long ago. Our living conditions were perfectly fine. “Still sneaking around on the phone? Is it another one of your poor relatives trying to leech off us?!” Eleanor stood behind me, her face dark. Brandon grumbled, “My mom said we’re not allowed to use our money to subsidize poor relatives. Do you even care about my mom anymore?!” I lowered myself, offering a placating smile and apology. “No, no, I was just asking another family’s nanny for advice on how to make special pregnancy soup for Seraphina.” They seemed half-convinced, and I managed to smooth things over. Inside, I sneered. The [Family Name] family did have some cash, but it was all from rental properties. That’s why Seraphina hooked up with Brandon. Willingly bearing his children. But soon, their pathetic pile of money wouldn’t mean anything. In the deep freeze apocalypse, only food and water would be truly valuable. Money would just be a pile of worthless paper. I wouldn’t forget the hatred from my past life. I would meticulously set my plans, making sure those three got what they deserved. Soon, I’d be living comfortably in my renovated bunker, eating well and enjoying life. And they? They could just tear each other apart!

Liam was incredibly dedicated to my cause. In just ten days, he completed the bunker renovation. Next up was stocking the bunker with equipment. In the deep freeze apocalypse, most areas would experience power outages. I bought three generators: a diesel generator – portable, providing stable power, but requiring regular maintenance and fuel; a solar generator – converting sunlight into electricity, no harmful emissions, no diesel consumption, but with obvious drawbacks like being weather-dependent and unusable at night. And a pedal-powered generator – its advantage was needing only human power, but it generated minimal electricity. So, the diesel generator was the most crucial. I purchased a massive amount of diesel, enough for three months. The bunker was the best place to store it. With the power issue resolved, the remaining concerns were food and water. I started by buying essential appliances like a stir-fry pan and an electric rice cooker, trying to minimize electricity-consuming products to avoid excessive power usage. I stocked a hundred pounds of grains, flour, and cooking oil, and hundreds of boxes of instant ramen in various flavors. As for water, I decided to buy a water purifier. In the deep freeze apocalypse, the outside would be a vast frozen wasteland, so water itself wouldn’t be scarce. Firstly, pure water bottles took up too much space. Secondly, the saved space could be used for a hydroponic vegetable growing area. Self-sufficiency, no need for refrigerator space, no wasted electricity. I bought seeds for cabbage, spinach, coriander, tomatoes, and bok choy. For meat, I could only buy large quantities of military-grade MREs, enough to last me three months. Other items included my favorite snacks and daily necessities. The food problem for the deep freeze apocalypse was solved; next, clothing. I purchased down jackets and snow boots costing over ten thousand dollars, advertised as being suitable for the South Pole. Then, medicine. Especially vitamin tablets. In an apocalypse, if people don’t eat fruit for extended periods, they’ll lack vitamins and develop scurvy. If left untreated, it could lead to fever, swelling, paralysis, and death. Living alone in the bunker, I absolutely couldn’t afford to get sick. After all this, the weather grew increasingly cold. My mother-in-law often nagged me. “Running out all day, who’s going to take care of your best friend with her big belly? Are you expecting me, an old woman, to do it?!” I bit my tongue, quietly cooking for the three of them. Seraphina sat on the couch watching TV, acting more like the lady of the house than I did. “I want some fruit. Can you make me a pretty fruit platter? I’ll only feel better if it looks nice.” My gaze turned cold. “The apples on the table are already washed. You can eat them directly.” Seraphina glanced at Brandon, seeming eager to reveal their secret. Last night, I’d secretly checked Brandon’s phone and saw the advice he’d given her. *“My mom said not to tell her about us yet. Just treat her like a free maid. If she ever refuses to work, just use emotional blackmail.”* Seraphina immediately looked tearful and wronged. “Chloe, you’re the one who asked me to live here. Are you regretting it now? It’s normal for a pregnant woman to crave things.” At this, my mother-in-law also stepped forward. “Exactly! You were the one who said you wanted Seraphina to move in. My son and I, the homeowners, have no complaints, so why are you suddenly getting emotional?” Hah, I had said she could live next door. Moving her in here was *your* idea. If I had known the baby in Seraphina’s belly was Brandon’s, I wouldn’t have cared if she lived or died. I smiled. “Alright, please wait. I’ll go make the fruit platter now.” The temperature dropped lower and lower. Everyone thought this year’s cold snap came earlier than usual. Before a disaster, there’s always an eerie calm. Humans don’t feel it.

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Nights spent on baby duty. I glanced at Scarlett’s phone, the screen still glowing, revealing a distress post: “OMG, my fertility is out of control! My second baby isn’t even three months old, and I’m pregnant again…” My initial thought was, *Wow, how reckless can you be?* Then I looked closer. Wait, was this post… by my own wife? But ever since our child was born, she’d rejected my advances, claiming she hadn’t recovered yet. I kept my poker face, started digging, and the more I dug, the greener my head got. I was being cuckolded. Not only was the kid not mine, but even her parents were fakes! After feeding our son his night bottle and coaxing him to sleep, I was exhausted. The moment my head finally hit the pillow, my mind snapped wide awake. I turned to see Scarlett sleeping soundly beside me, letting out tiny snores like a little piglet. Smiling, I tried to gently move her phone from by her head. In the dark, the faint glow of the screen was blinding. As I went to lock it, my eyes snagged on the open app. It was a distress post: “OMG, my fertility is out of control! My second baby isn’t even three months old, and I’m pregnant again…” I mumbled to myself, *Wow, how careless could someone be?* Because I knew, since our kid was born, Scarlett and I hadn’t had any intimate moments. During her pregnancy, I’d been extra careful, terrified of hurting her or the baby, so I’d always taken care of things myself. Finally, Scarlett’s six-week postpartum check-up came back normal. But she kept saying she needed more time to recover, and I respected that. But then I looked closer. This wasn’t some random post Scarlett had scrolled past; she’d posted it herself! Below the post, the comments were brutal: “‘Fertility out of control’? More like no birth control!” “Then have it! Hope you have octuplets!” “Can’t you just use a shoe? Do you *have* to leave something inside?” “Everyone chill, the blogger’s husband drives a Cullinan! With that kind of money, she can have as many as she wants!” The insults were endless, each one nastier than the last. But for me, at that moment, nothing was more chilling than realizing the poster was my own wife, Scarlett. And we had two kids already. Looking at my sleeping wife, my whole body trembled uncontrollably. My phone almost slipped from my grasp. Right then, only one thought echoed in my mind: *My wife is pregnant.* Fighting down the panic, I forced myself to tap her profile picture and enter her page. What greeted me, besides a flood of ostentatious posts, was her constant bragging about her daily life. And a black Rolls-Royce Cullinan was another ultimate target of mockery in those posts. Given our current financial situation, a Cullinan was clearly more than just “a bit out of reach.” In one photo, Scarlett, in a short skirt and black stockings, had her long legs provocatively crossed in the back seat. The caption read: “A woman who is loved is the happiest.” Great. My cuckoldry even came with a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. I remembered how, to marry Scarlett, I’d built my life from scratch, working tirelessly for three years. For three years, I hadn’t taken a single day off. Every day, I was either at the office or meeting clients. That’s how I finally bought a car and a house, achieving a comfortable, middle-class life. And to earn her parents’ respect and prove I was worthy of their daughter, I’d poured most of my savings into the dowry, just so I could stand tall and propose at their home. After enduring numerous tests and challenges from her family for six months, I finally won her hand. Two kids in three years—that was my limit. Before this, I’d even been proud of my impeccable aim. But now, I had to wonder, *Are these kids even mine?*

The neighbor’s rooster crowed several times downstairs before I finally shook off the shock of the night. Scarlett seemed annoyed by my sluggishness this morning. She frowned and asked, “Liam, what are you thinking about? I’ve called you a few times already. The baby needs to eat; why aren’t you making his formula?” When I still didn’t get up, she shot me a disdainful look, her eyes practically overflowing with contempt: “Honestly, you’re good for nothing but making money.” The old me wouldn’t have even noticed the sarcasm hidden in her words. I would have naively thought she was complimenting my earning ability. No wonder my friends always said I’d changed completely after meeting Scarlett, that I’d become a complete idiot when it came to love. I never denied it, nor did I feel embarrassed or ashamed. In fact, I thought it was just the basic skill a man needed to have for the woman he loved. Turns out, it was all just wishful thinking on my part. Looking at the woman before me, both familiar and strange, I got up and expertly prepared the formula, then gently slipped the nipple into our second baby’s mouth. What exactly did she mean by “useless”? She said she wanted to maintain her figure and refused to breastfeed, and I supported that. She said she needed to recover quickly and couldn’t carry the baby, and I supported that too. Aside from the month she spent at the postpartum care center, whenever I was home, I handled everything for both kids, from feeding to changing diapers. You could even say I was a full-time stay-at-home dad. But now, the thought that these two children might not be mine weighed on me more heavily than the entire world. “I want those croissants from the bakery on Elm Street. Go get them.” Scarlett smiled sweetly, playing with her phone as she gave me orders. I agreed. Secretly, I collected hair samples from both kids. Then, pretending I had an errand, I found my childhood best friend, Leo, who lived not far from me. “Leo, I need a favor,” I said, getting straight to the point. Leo’s sleepy eyes widened instantly when he saw me. “Damn it, you’re actually out! I was wondering if you’d ever leave the house! Seriously, you’ve become unrecognizable, all because of a woman.” His rambling made me smile bitterly. “I think I’m being cuckolded,” I said, my voice hollow. Leo froze for a second, then burst into applause. “Congrats, congrats! You’re finally getting out of this mess!” “All of us guys told you, that woman was no good, but you were like under a spell, completely impervious to reason!” Back when Scarlett and I first met, none of my friends approved. Before we became official, I took Scarlett to meet my friends. Normally, she was impeccably dressed, but that day, she just threw on a wrinkled dress and flip-flops to meet my friends. That outfit, which clearly showed she didn’t care about making a good impression, was one thing. But she also lacked even basic politeness towards them. Back then, I was such a fool, thinking she was just nervous to meet my friends! Later, after Scarlett and I officially got together, she stopped me from hanging out with them. Whenever I said I wanted to meet friends, she’d pick a fight. At first, I resisted a little, but under her constant nagging, the frequency of my meet-ups with friends dwindled from two or three times a month to once every two or three months. Then, it became once every six months, or even a year. Even our wedding invitations didn’t reach them because of her interference; I had to deliver them in person, one by one. Thinking about all those past incidents, my heart grew even more bitter. “Here!” Leo must have seen my gloom; he offered me a cigarette. But I shook my head. “Can’t. Bad for the kids. I quit.” “Idiot,” Leo said, no longer trying to persuade me. He just puffed away at his own cigarette. I pulled out the small bag containing my and the kids’ hair. “Help me out. This is my hair and the two kids’ hair. Can you get them tested for me? And when the results come in, I need you to tell me immediately.” Leo held the “hot potato,” his voice trembling. He stammered, “No way, man, I thought you were joking. You’re serious about this?” “What happened to make things this big? Are both kids not yours?” At that, Leo seemed to remember something. He paused, then took a deep drag. “Could it be I wasn’t mistaken that day? Was that really Scarlett in that car?” “The Cullinan?” I blurted out. He instinctively nodded, then looked at me with sympathy, saying earnestly, “My condolences, buddy. Don’t worry, I’ll get it done for you. One day, I can get you the results in one day.”

After leaving Leo’s place, I returned home feeling hollow. Naturally, I hadn’t bought the croissants Scarlett wanted. For that, she threw a massive tantrum, then stormed into the bedroom, got dressed up, and clacked out the door on high heels, hips swaying. My in-laws once again played the peacemakers, urging me to be more understanding and forgiving. They also said, “That’s just Scarlett’s temper; they’ve always indulged her, and I just needed to put up with it.” I’d heard that countless times, almost brainwashing myself. I didn’t reply. I handed the two kids to them and retreated to my study. I pulled a few strings and looked up the owners of Rolls-Royce Cullinans in our area. And there it was, a name that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to me: Tyler. Scarlett’s distant cousin. Tyler had struck it rich last year, and ever since, he’d shown up every now and then, always arriving smug and leaving even smugger. My in-laws also treated him with extra care. *Had I let the fox into the hen house?* Most importantly, I knew that Tyler and Scarlett weren’t actually blood-related; he was adopted. The thought that that lowlife might be the bastard cuckolding me sent a furious rage boiling inside me. My hand clenched around the mouse, almost crushing it before I slammed it down. The shattered mouse was a perfect symbol of our broken relationship. Kindness is often mistaken for weakness. Then I remembered Scarlett’s recent constant nagging: “Let’s find a way to get a sham divorce. You transfer the house to my name, and then in half a year, we can remarry, and you can put your name back on it.” “That way I can feel more secure. After all, I’ve given you two children; even if it’s not credit, it’s hard work. I should have something in my name to feel at ease.” “You act like you love me so much every day, but you won’t even give me a bit of your pre-marital property?” These words echoed in my mind, a barrage of endless mockery, slamming into me, one after another. This wasn’t her being娇羞; this was pure calculation. She was meticulously plotting to seize everything I’d worked for. Not to mention the smug look she had when she left, wasn’t that just trampling all over my dignity? I hid in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I finally couldn’t hold it in and turned on the faucet, then burst into tears. My gaze shifted, and I saw a pregnancy test stick showing two lines vaguely visible in the trash can. I felt a wave of nausea, dry heaving. One truth after another confirmed, and I felt a profound sense of disgust. That night, Scarlett sent me a text, saying she was meeting her friends, then directly turned off her phone. And I stayed in my study all night. The computer screen never went dark, and my keyboard never stopped clacking. If she didn’t cherish my love, then she would lose everything…

Just as I was drifting into a light sleep, I felt a pair of plump little hands gently patting my face, a soft voice murmuring: “Daddy! Wake up!” Opening my eyes, I looked at the little face that bore no resemblance to mine, and for the first time, I felt utterly powerless. “Did you eat?” The small face nodded eagerly, saying excitedly: “Uncle Tyler! He brought me McDonald’s!” I froze, instinctively clenching my fist. Tyler again. My eldest son, who still couldn’t speak clearly, adored Tyler. Whenever Tyler was at the house, he would cling to him. Before, I didn’t understand. Now, I just found it laughable. *Damn that twisted bloodline!* “Mom! Take the child! I have to work!” In a flash, I handed the crying child back to my mother-in-law. She frowned, looking reluctant, and shot me a disdainful look, muttering something under her breath as she carried the child back into the room. I suppressed my raging anger. I had no intention of tipping them off just yet. Leo’s email arrived right on time, like a lifeline. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and calmly clicked it open. The freshly printed paternity test report was a brutal punch to the gut. My phone rang. When I answered, Leo’s loud, exclamatory voice dragged my rationality back: “Damn it, Scarlett’s a total bitch! I—I really didn’t expect her to be so shameless! Neither of those kids are yours?!” “Liam, what are you going to do? I’m absolutely with you!” My friend’s support brought a flicker of warmth to my heart, which felt like an ice cave. I had already braced myself mentally, so now, it wasn’t as devastating.

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The year Gabriel Grant loved me the most. During evening study hall, I was accidentally locked in the pitch-black dormitory building. He stood outside the window, singing all night to comfort me. Later, on the day we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary. He abandoned me and rented out a bar. For a private concert dedicated to his childhood friend. Singing the love song he once wrote only for me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that night when I was trapped. A bucket of cold water poured down from the window. “Shut up, you sound terrible.” Today was supposed to be the day Gabriel Grant and I celebrated our anniversary. We had invited only our closest friends and family. I forced a smile on my face, wearing an uncomfortably tight dress and high heels. After bustling about for two hours and downing countless glasses of champagne, I didn’t even have time to drink water. Someone whispered quietly: “Tsk, the party’s almost over and the boyfriend is still nowhere to be seen. I feel so embarrassed for Chloe.” “Well, he is a big star now. It’s normal for her to put up with this.” “But this is too much. Who doesn’t show up to their own anniversary party?” They were right. This was a celebration without the other half of the couple. Because Gabriel Grant never showed up from beginning to end. I tried hard to suppress the churning in my stomach, my palms sweating as I kept calling Gabriel. Usually, even if he had a schedule, his manager would contact me in advance. But not today. There had been no word from him all day. More than anything else, I was worried something had happened to him. When it was over, my parents didn’t look too happy. Our family had always cared about face, so they never approved of my relationship with Gabriel from the start. “I really don’t know what you’re thinking, choosing someone like him. You’ve embarrassed our entire family.” Before leaving, my mom held my hand and said earnestly: “Chloe, you know best about your own feelings. It’s not too late to turn back now.” My eyes were moist, but I forced a smile. “Mom, Dad, Gabriel just had something urgent come up. I’ll bring him home another day, and you can scold him then.” After all the guests had left. I called Gabriel’s manager while stuffing leftover food into my mouth. Until the call was disconnected again due to no answer. I took a deep breath, staring blankly at the dark phone screen, my heart sinking heavily. My best friend Jenny Johnson walked over angrily and handed me her phone. “Look at this.”

It was a recorded livestream. In the dim stage light, Gabriel was singing passionately, while only one person’s silhouette could be seen in the empty VIP seats. And it was someone I knew all too well. Jenny’s tone was harsh, her hair almost crackling with anger: “This livestream has already topped the trending list. Now the whole world knows your boyfriend has a girlfriend.” “Chloe Adams, let’s go right now—” “Jenny.” I suddenly interrupted her, my gaze fixed on the screen that was replaying the loop, and said softly: “You know what?” “I was the first person to hear this song years ago.” That’s why I could overlook Gabriel’s repeated mistakes. Because he said this song was written for me. In those years when he was still unknown, he said I was the only listener he wanted to keep. Jenny fell silent for a moment, then took back the phone I was gripping tightly. “So what are you going to do now? The party’s over. Are you going to walk down the aisle alone next time too?” She shook my shoulders angrily: “Wake up! How long are you going to keep up this one-woman show?” I didn’t answer her, just forced myself to stand up. The anxiety that had been building all day finally subsided, leaving only one thought in my mind: At least nothing bad had happened to him. Wrapped in fatigue and discomfort, there was no room for excess emotions. I closed my eyes to calm myself, then sent Gabriel a final message: “What time are you coming home?”

It was already late by the time I finished dealing with the aftermath. I was packing up my clothes backstage. A hotel staff member caught up with me and handed me a thick envelope, saying it was left by a gentleman, along with a plastic bag containing a box of stomach medicine. I casually flipped through it. The envelope said “Happy Anniversary,” stuffed with thick wads of cash, signed only with the name Hughes. I froze for a few seconds, my throat tightening and my stomach suddenly aching as if in response. Before I could think too much about it, Jenny lowered the car window and called for me to get in. “Are you going to find Gabriel?” I closed the car door and shook my head: “Home.” From booking the hotel to everything else, I had been handling it all alone. At this point, I really didn’t have the energy left to go pick a fight. I swallowed a stomach pill and closed my eyes, feeling dizzy and heavy. It was almost ten when I got home. The whole apartment was dark. Clearly, no one had been back. I poured myself a glass of wine, sat by the window, and waited patiently second by second. I had never been this patient before. We moved in here two years ago. At that time, Gabriel had gained some fame with his new album. He often had obsessive fans secretly showing up at our door, so we were forced to move to this high-end neighborhood with better privacy. Clean, orderly, with a cold distance between people. So different from the cozy little nest we once furnished together. It wasn’t just the house we couldn’t go back to.

At two in the morning. The sound of someone entering the passcode finally came from outside the door. Gabriel was clearly startled to see me sitting by the window. The things in his hand fell to the ground with a thud. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” He knew that in the past, even if he came home late, I would only wait until midnight. Not like today. I put down my wine glass and walked past him to turn on the living room lights. In an instant, the quiet space was as bright as day. Gabriel loosened his tie and casually tossed his suit jacket on the sofa, taking large strides towards me, wanting to hug me. I had a moment of dizziness. Even this suit he was supposed to wear to our anniversary was chosen by me. Yet he wore it to rush to someone else. “Are you tired?” he asked me coaxingly, bringing up the serious topic lightly. I quietly sniffed the alcohol on him and raised my hand to push him away. Gabriel didn’t let go, explaining with complete nonchalance: “I had something urgent come up today. I didn’t mean to miss it. Besides, our families have already met, so these formalities don’t really matter, right?” “It’s so late, can we not fight about this?” Seeing that I didn’t say anything, he suddenly seemed to remember something and turned to pick up the paper bag he had dropped on the ground earlier. “I brought you a small cake. Last time you said this place was really popular and you wanted to try it. I specially went to queue up for it.” He took my hand affectionately. When the box was opened, the cake had been smashed beyond recognition, with most of the fruit filling spilled out. It was only at this moment that I let out a small laugh. Gabriel saw my expression soften and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, I’ll buy you another one another day.” But I suddenly asked him: “Does she like this place too?” Gabriel froze for a few seconds. “Who?” I looked up and stared into his eyes: “Zoe Quinn.” “You… know?” Gabriel’s voice instantly lowered, then became irritated: “Her mom passed away recently. She was really emotional today, and I was afraid something might happen to her, so I went to keep her company. You know she doesn’t have many relatives. We grew up—” I calmly finished his sentence: “Together, almost like siblings.” Gabriel choked, then continued after a while: “I’ve already had someone take down the trending topic. We’ll release a statement tomorrow.” I said “Oh,” and slowly started cleaning up the cake on the table. “Why don’t you just release a statement saying you’re single?” He frowned in confusion: “What do you mean?” “Gabriel.” The long-delayed sense of bitterness finally began to occupy my eyes. I blinked, trying to prevent myself from losing composure, but my voice still trembled uncontrollably. “I’m allergic to mangoes.”

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Luna Seraphina Hale thought 66 proposals from Alpha Derek Voss meant forever—until his childhood rogue companion, Violet, became his first choice, every time. “Use a card,” he’d dismiss, handing over embossed tokens like they erased his neglect. By the 64th card, fresh from ectopic surgery, he ordered her to apologize for Violet’s public tantrum—while tenderly fixing Violet’s hair. His “gift” that night? Blood-stained sheets, not her favorite pastries: “She can’t touch cold water.” His texts to Violet betrayed indifference: “Lily handles chores.” When he blew off their night with a bored “use a card,” Seraphina shattered their engagement mug—and their bond. “No more cards,” she messaged, attaching divorce papers. This Luna wasn’t begging for scraps. Let him drown in Violet’s lies; she’d stamp the final cards on a future he no longer shared. Chapter 1 Alpha Derek Voss had planned 66 romantic trips to propose to me, Luna Seraphina Hale. On the 67th attempt, beneath the shimmering lights of a rooftop banquet, I finally yielded to the sincerity in his gaze and whispered “yes.” Our wedding day dawned with a vow I thought unshakable—but by nightfall, I placed 66 “forgiveness cards” in his hands, each embossed with the faint scent of moonflowers, a scent only wolves could detect. “Each card is a thread in our bond,” I told him. “Use them wisely.” For six years, the scent of Rogue Violet Crow—Derek’s childhood companion—lingered in our den, each time he chose her over me. With every argument, he’d press a card into my palm, the embossing fading as our connection frayed. By the 64th card, my demeanor shifted. I no longer snarled at their too-close touches or flinched when he canceled pack gatherings for her. When he turned to leave for her den yet again, I simply asked: “If you go, may I mark a card?” His reply was careless: “Do as you wish—plenty remain. ” He failed to notice the tremble in my hand, or that only two cards stayed in the box. The night of the pack alliance banquet fell on the seventh moon after my ectopic pregnancy surgery. Rogue Violet, her eyes glinting with challenge, smashed a honey-caked pastry into Beta Gideon Rhett’s chest—the visiting Alpha of a neighboring pack. Derek’s first growl was for her: “Are you harmed?” Before I could recover from the scent of cinnamon and anger on the air, he turned to me, voice sharp: “Seraphina, apologize.” I stared at him, the pain from my still-healing midriff a dull throb. Gideon’s fur bristled, his Beta status demanding respect, but Violet clung to Derek’s arm, tears pooling in her lashes as if *she* were the injured one. “The one at fault hides behind others,” Gideon rumbled, pawing at his soiled tunic. Derek’s grip on Violet tightened, his Alpha command leaving no room for debate: “Apologize. Now.” He forgot—or chose to ignore—that moonflower tea, not alcohol, should be on my lips, the surgery leaving my body vulnerable to wolfsbane in spirits. Violet’s smirk cut through the air—she knew the power she held, the way Derek’s protective instincts flared for her, the way he’d throw me to the pack’s judgment. “One forgiveness card,” he murmured, low enough for only my wolf hearing. It was a hollow offering, a relic of the man who’d once hunted stars for me. I bowed to Gideon, the scent of humiliation bitter on my tongue, and as I did, Derek’s paw brushed Violet’s hair, a tender gesture he’d not spared me in moons. “Next time, watch yourself—what if you’d struck stone?” Her giggle was a blade: “You’ve always been my shield, Derek.” *Before*—a time when his shields were mine. The wound in my belly ached in rhythm with my wolf’s whimper. *Two cards left*, I reminded myself. *Two chances for him to see me*. After the banquet, Derek dismissed me with a cold glance: “Return home. Violet sprained her paw—I’ll take her to the Healer.” His eyes, once warm for me, now glowed with concern for her. In days past, I might have pleaded, shown him my bandages, demanded he choose. Now, I simply dipped my head, the scent of his indifference heavier than the storm brewing outside. “Be cautious,” he said, softer now, as if soothing a pup. I didn’t tell him caution had died with the 64th card. Chapter 2 No sooner had his words fallen than Violet threaded her arm through his, her frame delicate against his broad chest—*my* Alpha’s chest. Derek’s suit jacket, still carrying my scent, draped over her shoulders as he lifted her into the passenger seat, a care I hadn’t felt in seasons. “Stay still,” he rumbled, before finally glancing my way: “We grew up as pack siblings, Seraphina. You know there’s no bond between us.” I forced a smile, the word “siblings” a lie even his wolf should smell. “You used a card,” I said. “All is… forgiven.” His hesitation was brief, Violet’s whimper drawing him back. The engine roared, and they were gone, leaving me alone under the ironwood tree, its leaves whispering secrets of better days. At our den, I found the forgiveness cards strewn on the oak table—once locked in his Alpha vault, now carelessly abandoned. The 64th card received my mark, and beneath it, the divorce papers—parchment scented with wolfsbane to ward off his tracking—lay waiting. I called Elder Malcolm Thorne, my former mentor, his wisdom a steadying force. “Divorce?” he asked, his voice a low growl of surprise. “You two were the Moon’s favorite tale.” *What happened?* His question lingered as I traced the edge of the last two cards. It had begun with stolen glances at Violet’s den, with nights he smelled of her jasmine soap, with the day I found their paw prints tangled on a forbidden trail. “The bond is broken,” I said. “He forgets I am Luna—not a scribe to tally his mistakes.” Elder Malcolm sighed, a sound like wind through ancient pines. “I’ll send a Pack Law specialist. You deserve better than a mate who treats forgiveness as a game.” Before I could reply, Derek entered, a pastry bag in hand—*my* favorite bakery’s scent, but tainted by jasmine. “Who called?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Elder Malcolm—research,” I lied. He dropped the bag, his scent turning sharp. “Research at this hour?” I opened the bag, expecting the cinnamon rolls of our courtship, but instead found a blood-stained dress and crumpled sheets—Violet’s. “Her moon cycle—she can’t handle cold water,” he said, voice firm. “You understand, as a Luna.” I stared at him, the irony bitter: I, too, was forbidden cold water, yet he’d never fetched *my* herbs, never asked the Healer about my recovery. “Use a card if you’re annoyed,” he added, already sinking into the couch, oblivious to the way my nails bit into my palms. *One card left*, I thought, watching him scroll through his phone, no doubt messaging Violet. *One chance for him to see*.

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I was thrown by an out-of-control car when I was seven months pregnant, lying in a pool of blood. James rushed me to the hospital with red eyes, spending a fortune to bring in the best obstetrics team, desperately trying to save the baby. When I woke up, the ward was empty. Ignoring the excruciating pain, I got out of bed and stumbled around looking for my child. But outside the ICU, I overheard James talking to the doctor. “Mr. Wilson, the baby still has vital signs. Why are we giving up on resuscitation?” “A bastard child would only be a burden even if it lived.” “Sophie just gave birth to my son. I can’t let anyone threaten his inheritance rights.” So beneath his gentle and caring facade, he was hiding a poisonous heart. The marriage I treasured was nothing but an elaborately designed scam. Since he ruined everything with his own hands, he can’t blame me for leaving him with nothing. I stood outside the ICU, my hands gripping the wall so tightly my nails almost dug into the surface. James’ voice came from inside, each word like a knife carving into my heart: “Change the time of death to during the resuscitation process. Just say we did our best, but couldn’t save it.” The doctor hesitated: “But the baby still has a heartbeat.” “I said, this child cannot live,” James’ voice was cold as ice. “Sophie’s newborn son is the only heir to the Wilson family.” “This doesn’t seem right…” The doctor’s voice was shaking. “One million dollars. This is the down payment. You’ll get another million when it’s done.” The sound of rustling bills was piercing to my ears. My child, the baby I desperately protected, was only worth this much in his eyes? Through the glass window, I saw the doctor’s trembling hands pull the oxygen tube from the incubator. The tiny body began to struggle, twisting painfully like a fish out of water. I wanted to rush in and stop it, but my legs felt nailed to the ground, unable to take a single step. The heartbeat line on the monitor began to fluctuate erratically, finally flattening into a straight line. “Time of death, 10:47 AM,” the doctor’s voice seemed to come from far away. My whole body went cold as James’ past vows echoed in my mind: “Honey, when the baby is born, I promise I’ll be a good father.” “Our child will be the happiest baby in the world.” How laughable, how utterly laughable. Every word of love he spoke was just laying the groundwork for today’s betrayal. I leaned against the wall, inching my way back to the ward. Not long after I lay down, James pushed open the door. His eyes were still red, his face etched with grief: “Honey, I’m so sorry. We did everything we could, but…” I looked at his perfect emotional management and suddenly felt sick. This man could kill his own flesh and blood for someone else’s child. He leaned down to hug me, but I dodged him. “What’s wrong, baby? I know you’re devastated, but we’re still young, we can try again…” “No need,” I cut off his false sympathy. “I’m tired. I want to sleep for a while.” James gently tucked me in: “Alright, get some rest. I’ll be right outside with you.” As he turned away, a hint of a triumphant smile flashed in his eyes. But he would never imagine that the woman he had just destroyed would make him pay a thousand times over. The moment the hospital room door closed, I took out my phone and called my best friend Kate: “Help me investigate Emily’s relationship with James.” “And the birth date of their child.” After hanging up, I closed my eyes, tears silently falling. Baby, I’m sorry. Mommy couldn’t protect you. But Mommy will definitely make those who hurt you pay the price they deserve. Outside the window, the moonlight was like water, shining on my pale face. That night, my heart died. Along with the naive, innocent self who had been full of joy and hope for the future. From now on, I’m just a walking corpse. Until James kneels on the ground, begging me for a quick death. 2. I lay in the hospital bed, watching James busy himself taking care of me. His movements were gentle, his gaze focused, occasionally using the back of his hand to test the temperature of the food. This tenderness was like a knife, carving into my heart bit by bit. “Hungry?” He leaned forward slightly, a doting smile on his lips. “I had the chef make bird’s nest soup, your favorite.” He sat down by the bed holding the bowl, his long fingers gripping the silver spoon. Carefully blowing on a spoonful to cool it, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on me as he brought the spoon to my lips. I turned my head away, my hair lightly brushing his fingertips. “I don’t want to eat.” “Come on,” he sighed, his free hand gently stroking my hair, his voice full of concern. “You just lost the baby, your body needs nourishment. I’m worried about you, please don’t make me more anxious, okay?” What a perfect performance. His brows furrowed slightly, the corners of his eyes tinged red, even the trembling of his fingers was just right. If I hadn’t heard his words with my own ears, I might have believed him. Just then, his phone rang. His eyes flickered for a moment, glancing at the caller ID, his frown deepening: “There’s something at the company. I’ll take this call outside.” I nodded, watching him leave. He deliberately lightened his footsteps as he walked, even closing the door gently. The moment the door closed, his voice came through the crack. His previously gentle tone instantly became light and joyful: “Emily, don’t worry, everything’s taken care of.” His voice carried undisguised affection, completely different from moments ago. “Our child will be the Wilson family’s only heir. No one can threaten him anymore.” As he said this, there was even a hint of pride in his voice. “You just focus on the pregnancy. Once you’re out of postpartum care, I’ll bring you home.” So while I was lying on the operating table fighting for my life, his true love was resting comfortably elsewhere. I touched my empty belly, my fingertips trembling slightly. A small life had once been growing there. But now, there was nothing left. A nurse came in to change my dressing. Her gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, her eyes full of sympathy: “Mrs. Wilson, my condolences.” I forced a smile, the curve of my lips just right: “Thank you.” She bit her lip, fidgeting with the hem of her uniform, hesitating before finally speaking in a low voice: “Actually… the baby could have been saved at first.” I gripped the blanket tightly, my knuckles turning white, the fabric crumpling deeply in my palm. “I know.” My voice was so calm it scared even me. The nurse was taken aback, her eyes widening slightly, seemingly surprised by my calmness. She glanced around, as if making sure no one was nearby, before leaning closer to my bed. “That Emily, she’s Mr. Wilson’s first love.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, “I heard they broke up years ago because his family opposed it.” Her hands shook slightly as she arranged the medicines on the bedside table: “She came in for a prenatal check-up a few days ago. I attended to her myself.” “She’s six months pregnant.” Six months. I counted on my fingers, my nails unconsciously digging into my palm. It was right when I had just gotten pregnant. No wonder during that time, James was always making excuses about business trips, occasionally coming home with unfamiliar perfume on his suit. So he had been with her all along. I laughed, laughing so hard tears came to my eyes. The nurse nearly dropped the medicine bottle she was holding. “Mrs. Wilson…” She looked at me worriedly, awkwardly offering a tissue. “I’m fine, you can go,” I took the tissue, elegantly wiping away my tears. After she left, I took out my phone, my fingertips lightly tapping the screen, dialing a number. “Hello, Kate.” My voice was frighteningly calm. “Help me investigate Emily’s whereabouts over the past few years.” My fingers unconsciously fiddled with the edge of the blanket. “And every meeting record between her and James.” Hanging up the phone, I wiped away my tears, a cold smile curling at my lips. James Wilson, isn’t the Wilson family’s reputation what you care about most? Then I’ll let the whole world know. That the mighty CEO of Wilson Group is a scumbag who killed his own flesh and blood for his mistress. You love Emily the most, don’t you? I’ll make you watch her crumble under everyone’s contempt. You took away my child, so I’ll leave you with nothing. Outside the ward, the sun was setting. The blood-red twilight dyed half the sky, just like that day, when blood stained my skirt. James pushed open the door, a bouquet of roses in his hand. His steps were light, a gentle smile on his face, as if the phone call earlier had never happened. “Honey, don’t be too sad.” He gently placed the flowers by the bed, his long fingers lightly arranging the petals. “When you’re better, we can try for another one, okay?” I looked at his concerned gaze, at the fine laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, and suddenly wanted to laugh. Unfortunately, you’ll never have that chance again. Because from today on, I won’t give you any opportunity to get close to me. For every bit of pain you’ve given me, I’ll make you pay back tenfold. 3. I scrolled through the surveillance footage on my phone, each frame cutting into my heart like a knife. So while I was struggling alone through morning sickness, James was in another private residence, personally making soup for Emily. His movements were as gentle as if handling a treasure, even testing the temperature of the soup spoon three times. In the footage, he wore a custom apron, smiling at the corners of his eyes: “Drink more, it’s good for the baby.” Emily snuggled into his arms coquettishly: “Your soup is always the best.” Meanwhile, my nutritional meals were always ordered from outside by his assistant. Memories rewound like a movie playing backwards. That day I suddenly craved sour plums and sent him a message. Three hours later he finally replied: ‘In an important meeting, I’ll have my assistant send some over.’ Now looking at the surveillance, I realized he was accompanying Emily to a luxury store to pick out baby items. He crouched down, gently caressing her slightly swollen belly: “This little dress is so cute. If it’s a girl, it would be perfect.” Emily smiled radiantly: “I think it’ll be a boy, handsome like you.” “Boy or girl,” he dotingly tapped her nose, “as long as it’s our child, it’s the best.” My fingers unconsciously dug into my palm. I remembered going to the hospital alone for a check-up, the nurse asking: “Where’s your family?” I smiled and replied: “He’s busy with work.” When the results came out, I excitedly took a photo and sent it to him: ‘It’s a boy!’ He only replied with a simple emoji. So all his tenderness was given to someone else. I opened another surveillance clip. He accompanied Emily for a prenatal check-up, never leaving her side. “Baby, don’t be afraid, I’m here,” he gripped her hand tightly. “If it hurts, just squeeze my hand.” Emily nodded with tears in her eyes: “With you by my side, I’m not afraid of anything.” While during my check-ups, I could only ever hear the cold sound of machines. The most ironic was the day of the gender reveal. He said he was on a business trip out of town, telling me not to worry. But in the surveillance footage, he was lying next to Emily in the examination room, eyes fixed on the ultrasound screen. “It’s a boy!” The moment the doctor spoke, he excitedly kissed Emily’s forehead. “That’s wonderful,” his eyes reddened with emotion. “We have a son.” Emily wiped away tears with a smile: “Do you think he’ll look like you?” “Of course he will,” he gently caressed her belly. “He’s our child after all.” I turned off my phone, looking out the window. The sky was gloomy, as if it might rain. Just like my mood right now. So from the very beginning, I was just an outsider. Every bit of tenderness he gave Emily came from his heart. While what he gave me was nothing but a perfunctory facade. The nurse came in to change my dressing, seeing my expression, she hesitated to speak. “Mrs. Wilson…” “Just call me Sophia,” I forced a smile. From today on, I don’t want to be Mrs. Wilson anymore. She hesitated for a moment before speaking: “Mr. Wilson and that Miss Emily were just in the cafe downstairs…” “I know,” I cut her off. “No need to say more.” I know what they’re doing. No doubt discussing what name to give that unborn child. James will certainly put a lot of thought into it. Just like he once promised me. Too bad those promises were meant for someone else’s ears. I took out my phone and sent Kate a message: ‘Prepare divorce papers for me.’ ‘Also, check their transfer records over the past few years.’ Since he loves Emily so much, let’s see if his true love is as pure as he imagines. Putting down the phone, I touched my flat belly. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy couldn’t protect you. But Mommy will definitely make those who hurt you pay the price.

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My mercenary husband, Caleb, was on a mission when he found himself acting as a ‘cure’ for Sera, a new operative on his team. They explored every intimacy imaginable within that cave. He didn’t return for three full days and nights. He knelt before me, his voice filled with despair and pleading. “Aubrey, it was all for the mission, a matter of life and death. As captain, I couldn’t just stand by.” “But you’re the only one I truly love.” To show his commitment, he removed Sera from the team. He also promised to leave the mercenary life in three years and return as the heir to the Davies family fortune. I cradled the tiny two-month-old life inside me and forgave him. Three years later, having just suffered yet another miscarriage, I saw Caleb Davies at the hospital, when he was supposed to be on a mission. He was holding Sera, who was covered in blood, screaming at the top of his lungs for a doctor. It turned out Sera had taken a bullet for Caleb, the slug missing her heart by mere inches. And her child was already three years old. It was Caleb’s. Caleb knelt before me, his face pale as death. “That time, three years ago, she got pregnant and raised the child alone. I just came to see them, mother and son, because I felt sorry for her, and then… this happened.” “Aubrey, there’s nothing between us. Even if you can’t carry a child, you’ll always be my wife.” Sera, still recovering from her injuries, looked at me, her eyes filled with tears. “Mrs. Davies, please, I beg you, save my child! He has leukemia and needs umbilical cord blood from a full sibling…” Caleb looked at her, his expression filled with tenderness, then turned to me. “Aubrey, you’re the kindest person I know. I can’t just let him die. Don’t worry, we’ll just do IVF.” I stared at him, thinking of the investigation report I’d received. I spoke calmly, “Then while we’re at it, let’s get a divorce. We wouldn’t want the child to be born out of wedlock, that would be too sad…” “Aubrey, I knew you’d understand me perfectly!” Caleb’s face visibly brightened with joy. “Don’t worry, once the baby is born and registered, we’ll remarry.” I ignored him and walked straight out. I pulled out a golden card and made a call. “Your offer, I accept.”

Caleb’s relief was almost palpable when he heard me suggest divorce. He quickly helped Sera to her feet, adjusted her hospital gown, and gently scolded her. “You just healed, and you’re already worrying me. My Aubrey is so kind, stop kneeling all the time.” Sera, her face pale, shook her head. “You don’t understand, only a woman truly understands another woman.” “You see Aubrey acting all calm and composed, but she’s really hurting inside. Promise me, you’ll spend some real time with her.” Every word she spoke sounded perfectly reasonable and compassionate to Caleb. But I knew, she was rubbing it in my face, flaunting the undeniable intimacy she shared with Caleb. Caleb glanced at me, then seemed to realize something. “Aubrey, why are you at the hospital?” I felt the cold ache radiating from my lower abdomen. I hid my trembling hands. I thought of the phone call I hadn’t made, not wanting to distract Caleb from his mission. A self-mocking smile touched my lips. “Just visiting a friend,” I said softly. But Caleb reached for my hand, finding it icy cold. I pulled away as if I’d been shocked. Sera gasped dramatically at just the right moment, diverting his attention. He pulled out a tissue and, with practiced ease, wiped her forehead. “I told you to stay in bed. Everything’s resolved now, let me help you back to rest.” Then he turned back to me. “Aubrey, you can go back by yourself. Sera was injured for me, after all. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t stay with her for a couple of days.” I walked out in silence. Caleb called out to me. “Oh, Aubrey, I’ve already prepared the divorce papers. Remember to sign them.” I hung my head low, stubbornly refusing to let my tears fall. As I walked out of the hospital, I saw Caleb’s parents. Of course, I only knew who they were after doing my own research. Caleb had never introduced me to his family. They were holding onto each other, their voices full of satisfaction and relief. “Last grandchild, you gave fifty million. This time, it needs to be double!” “Right, right! And we need to arrange the wedding quickly. Our grandson’s mother is Miss Kingston, she absolutely can’t be an illegitimate child!” “What illegitimate child? Our Caleb isn’t even married yet.” My hands clenched tightly. So Caleb had never told his family about my existence at all. And he and Sera already had another child on the way. Tears finally, unwillingly, streamed down my face. I raised a hand to wipe them away. The jade bangle on my wrist slipped from my sleeve. Mrs. Davies, sharp-eyed, immediately stepped forward, grabbing my hand, her voice sharp. “Who are you? How dare you steal my daughter-in-law’s bangle!” I was about to protest. But the Davies’ bodyguards stepped forward and restrained me. Mrs. Davies tried to yank the bangle from my wrist, instructing the bodyguards to call the police. Hearing the commotion, Caleb rushed over, panicked. “Mom, Dad, you’ve misunderstood. This is… one of our family’s bodyguards. She’s just helping Sera take her things back.” I stared at him, seeing that familiar plea in his eyes. It was the same look he had when he begged for my forgiveness after sleeping with Sera three years ago. Suddenly, I felt utterly disgusted. I deliberately slipped the bangle off my wrist and placed it in Caleb’s hand. “Mr. Davies, returning what’s rightfully yours.” Caleb’s face went ashen. He lowered his voice, his tone tense. “Aubrey, wait, I’ll explain everything later…” I curved my lips into a cold smile. “No need. Wouldn’t want your family to misunderstand.” Then, without looking back, I left. Once on the street, I pulled out my phone and dialed. “Your offer, I accept.” The voice on the other end was low. “Good. Don’t worry. In three days, you will ‘die’ taking a bullet for Caleb. After that, you will only ever be Mrs. Kingston.” I hung up. A cold laugh echoed in my mind. Caleb Davies, since you choose Sera every single time. This time, I’ll make sure you lose me forever because of her.

Back home. My phone buzzed with a SnapChat friend request. My heart fluttered. I knew instinctively who it was. Sure enough, after accepting, I saw Sera’s profile picture. More precisely, it was a photo of her and Caleb from behind. Her feed was filled with screenshots from the Davies family SnapChat group. Three years ago, after she gave birth, everyone in the Davies family had sent their congratulations. It turned out that after Caleb sent her away back then, she immediately contacted Mr. and Mrs. Davies. She’d used their son to completely charm the elder Davies. Caleb had compromised for his child, again and again. When he lied to me about going on missions, he was actually spending time with them, mother and son. Because of that, he missed both of my miscarriages. He missed every one of my birthdays. Her most recent post was a video. The filming location was the hospital. Caleb was nervously watching Sera as she got her check-up. When the doctor said the fetus was perfectly fine, he let out a sigh of relief. He took the bangle he’d snatched from my wrist and placed it on hers. Sera let him put it on, but protested with her words. “This is Mrs. Davies’s, how can I wear it?” Caleb leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re always so considerate. Don’t worry, if I give it to you, you wear it. After all, in Mom and Dad’s social circle, you’ve already been Mrs. Davies for a while.” Sera shook her head. “I know you only love Aubrey. In your heart, only Aubrey is Mrs. Davies.” Caleb looked into her eyes, his voice, warm and melting like the spring snow. “Everything else besides love, I can give to you.” Then he eagerly kissed her lips. At the end of the video, Sera provocatively glanced at the camera, then unbuttoned Caleb’s shirt. I pressed a hand to my chest, but I couldn’t stop the cold wind that seemed to blow right into my bones. I stumbled to my study. With a firm hand, I signed the divorce papers. Our divorce process didn’t require a cooling-off period. I told myself, *only three more days.* In three days, I would never cry for Caleb Davies again. The next day, Caleb called. His voice was deliberately low. “Aubrey, I’m sorry about Mom and Dad yesterday. You know how elders are, they just want grandchildren.” “Since you can’t have children, let Sera and the baby stay with them in the future. It’ll save them from bothering you.” I scoffed. “Mr. Davies, you don’t need to explain. We’re already divorced.” Caleb’s breathing hitched. His voice turned anxious. “Aubrey, are you mad? I told you, once the baby is born, we’ll remarry…” “Wait for me, I’m coming home now.” I didn’t bother listening, hanging up directly. I started clearing out my old belongings. My gaze fell on a blood-stained shirt, and I drifted into thought. Caleb and I met five years ago. I had been dragged into a dark alley by some thugs when a man saved me, even taking a knife for me. In the darkness, I hadn’t seen his face clearly. But when I woke up in the hospital, what I saw was that blood-stained shirt and Caleb sitting by my bedside. My gratitude turned to affection. We spent five years together. Because of his special identity, our marriage was kept secret. He said it was to protect me. I once cherished that secretive affection. Now, it was nothing but a joke. I snapped back to reality and threw the shirt, along with all my other old belongings, into the trash. Who knew, Caleb actually came back.

And he brought Sera with him. Caleb carefully helped her out of the car. Sera saw me and lifted her neck, covered in faint marks. “Sister Aubrey, would you be my bridesmaid tomorrow for our wedding?” I looked at her, utterly bewildered. Caleb’s face looked unnatural as he explained, “Aubrey, Mom and Dad insisted that Sera and I have a wedding. It’s all for the child…” I scoffed. “It hardly seems appropriate for an ex-wife to be at your wedding.” Sera’s eyes reddened at the corners. “Sister Aubrey, you know Caleb only loves you. Please don’t be sarcastic and upset him…” Caleb stepped forward, gently comforting her. “There, there, you have a baby in your belly, you can’t keep crying.” Then he looked up at me, his eyes full of helplessness. “Aubrey, the wedding is just a formality. No matter what outsiders think, you’re the only one in my heart.” I stared coldly at Caleb. Just like that, he was shamelessly standing here. Yesterday, he was begging me to agree to their IVF. Today, he brought pregnant Sera home. He swore up and down he loved me, yet he was marrying another woman and having children with her. Was I truly naive, or was he just deluding himself? Seeing me turn to leave, Caleb’s temper flared. He frowned deeply. “Aubrey, Sera is already being so understanding. Why are you still not satisfied?” “What exactly do you want us to do to make everyone happy?” I closed my eyes briefly. “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow.” *And then leave you forever.* That night, after I showered, Caleb appeared before me. His eyes held that familiar warmth. He reached out to hug me from behind, but I stepped away. He didn’t give up, chuckling softly, his warm breath fanning my neck. He mysteriously pulled a small box from his pocket. Inside was a pink diamond ring. His voice husky, he said, “Aubrey, after the baby is born and we remarry, we’ll go on a honeymoon trip.” “Sera and the baby are just for Mom and Dad.” “She’ll never interfere with us.” He leaned in for a kiss. A knock on the door came at the perfect moment, saving him from the slap I was about to deliver. It was Sera. Her face was pale. “Caleb, my morning sickness is really bad this time. Can you make me the sour plum soup you made when I was pregnant before?” She glanced at me, then covered her mouth, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have. Caleb peered at my expression. “What are you talking about? I don’t know how to make that!” He slammed the door shut. Blocking Sera’s tear-streaked face from view. I lay still, and soon *fell asleep*. Caleb, who had been restless, finally quietly opened the door and left. Sera’s SnapChat feed updated immediately. The picture showed a steaming bowl of sour plum soup. [Someone scolded me for running around with morning sickness, so he punished me by making me drink two bowls.] [Hmph, he messed up, so he’s punished by having to rub my back.] Then she sent a direct message on SnapChat. [Sister Aubrey, I heard you were the principal dancer in your dance troupe. But why did he say my waist was softer than yours?] I screenshot the message and turned off my screen. I remembered. Three years ago, I heard Caleb had fallen into an icy lake during a mission. I forgot I was pregnant and jumped in after him. After three hours of searching, when I was pulled out, I’d lost the baby. The next day, Caleb returned and held me, crying as if his heart would break, his eyes full of tenderness and guilt. “Aubrey, it’s okay if we never have children.” Only a few days ago, through my investigation, did I discover that he hadn’t participated in that mission at all. He had been taking care of Sera, who was suffering from severe morning sickness. He didn’t care if I could have children. Because he already had one. I laughed at myself bitterly in my mind. *Fool.* Even more foolish for crying over such a liar. As I drifted into a hazy sleep, I felt someone wiping away my tears. When I woke again, Caleb was by the bed, putting on his wedding suit.

“Aubrey, can you help me with my tie?” His voice was intimate and lazy. It gave me a fleeting illusion that we were back to the beginning. But seeing the hair tie on his wrist, which wasn’t mine, immediately brought me back to reality. Just as I was about to refuse, his phone rang. Sera’s voice, sickly sweet, came through the speaker. “Caleb, can you come help me zip up my dress?” Caleb hesitated for a moment, then nodded gently. “Wait for me.” Then he grabbed the silk tie and left without a backward glance. I changed into the dress I wore the day Caleb and I first met. I placed the lucky charm we’d gotten together inside the chest of my dress. I numbly watched Caleb lift Sera into the wedding car. Her long wedding dress didn’t even touch the ground. He turned and saw me. He hurried over. The scent of freesias from Sera’s dress clung to him. He tried to put the ring box into my hand. “Aubrey, when it’s time to exchange rings, bring them up to us.” I looked at him steadily, not taking it. He shoved it into my arms, his face full of impatience. “Aubrey, not now. Don’t make a scene.” I dodged his hand as he tried to pat my head. He awkwardly lowered it. “I’ll come back to you tonight.” I didn’t answer. I glanced around. I wondered where *that person* would appear. Soon, we arrived at the wedding venue. It was an outdoor setting, flowers everywhere. Guests gathered in small groups. Caleb’s family sat on a long bench. The child was held by Mrs. Davies. The family looked happy and harmonious. Only I had foolishly waited for his promise to leave the mercenaries in three years. When it was time to exchange rings, Caleb and Sera’s eyes locked, practically melting together. He didn’t spare a single glance for me, standing right beside them. As the wedding atmosphere reached its climax, the child in Mrs. Davies’s arms suddenly started crying. In the confusion, Caleb rushed off the stage to check on the child. Bang— A gunshot rang out. The crowd erupted in chaos. Sera clutched her stomach, crying out in pain. Caleb rushed back, scooped up Sera, and began to leave. He looked up at me, his eyes darting away. “Aubrey, Sera’s pregnant, hide yourself. I…” Before he could finish, a whistling bullet pierced my chest. Mrs. Davies had pushed me, making me shield Caleb. “Let this bodyguard take the bullet! Son, grab your daughter-in-law and run!” Caleb stared at me in a panic, his voice trembling. “Aubrey, wait for me, I’ll call an ambulance.” I collapsed to the ground, blood gushing from my chest. Though the blood was fake, watching him walk away with Sera without hesitation, The heart that had beaten for him for five years finally died. Caleb Davies, we are over. A few days later, it would be the grand wedding of Miss Kingston and the heir to the Kingston family. ———-此处为截断点———- Caleb placed Sera in the ambulance and was about to grab a nurse to rush back. “Quick, hurry back with me to save Aubrey!”

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Nolan experienced his tenth memory lapse, which unfortunately coincided with the night before our wedding. Just as I had done the previous nine times, I climbed to the thirty-third floor, attempting to call back his spirit. To my dismay, I overheard him talking to his friend, Griffin. It turned out the memory loss was a ruse, and he was planning to bolt from the wedding. Griffin asked, “Aren’t you worried Lydia will be hurt?” Nolan lazily replied after exhaling smoke, “She won’t know.” “Even if she finds out, she won’t leave me.” “Do you think she could make it without me?” “Do you think everyone can be as independent as Aurelia?” Aurelia. Nolan’s girlfriend during his ninth supposed memory loss. They still kept in touch. I felt tears as I touched my face. Instead of taking the elevator down, I walked from the thirty-third floor to the first and back up again. I did this repeatedly through the night until 3 a.m., when the makeup artist bombarded my phone with calls and dragged me back. She informed Nolan that I had a fever and couldn’t walk. Ten minutes later, Griffin messaged me. “Nolan’s memory problem isn’t solved yet.” “But I’ll ensure he picks you up on time.” I sat in a daze as the makeup artist worked on me, clutching my phone. From 5 a.m. to 7 a.m., 8 a.m., and then 9 a.m. The bridesmaids I had hired started to grow impatient, whispering among themselves: “The groom isn’t coming, is he?” “You mean… a runaway groom?” “Impossible.” One bridesmaid firmly refuted. “I was personally chosen by Mr. Nolan. I’ve seen how he cares for Fiona.” “I’d rather believe it’s… an accident on the way.” Perhaps it was an accident on the way. When Nolan first lost his memory, I thought the same. It was my 23rd birthday, and Nolan had just received his first paycheck after graduating college. We planned to have a buffet. I waited at the restaurant entrance, but he never showed up. I called Nolan, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t reply to my messages either. I called all his friends and searched the entire city. I finally found him at an unknown bar. He held a glass, looking at me with a confused expression, and asked, “Who are you?” I could only cry. The hospital couldn’t determine why Nolan lost his memory. A fortune teller claimed it was a lost soul. A close relative needed to climb high and call his name all night; there was a good chance he’d recover. Despite my fear of heights, I climbed to the thirty-third floor, closed my eyes, and called out with trembling legs: “Nolan.” “Come home.” I shouted all night, cried all night. My eyes swelled like walnuts. I couldn’t see clearly and accidentally fell from the thirty-third floor. There was a large platform on the thirty-second floor, and I fell onto it, breaking a leg. Luckily, Nolan remembered me. Later, he lost his memory a second, third, fourth… ninth time. I gained experience and was forced to overcome my fear of heights. But the duration of Nolan’s memory loss grew longer each time. During the ninth time, he even met a new girl. They had a fresh romance. That girl was Aurelia. I was treated as the other woman and got doused in red paint. Aurelia threatened, “If you keep bothering my boyfriend, next time it’ll be worse.” She also posted my embarrassing photos online everywhere. I was cyberbullied, overwhelmed with insults. I didn’t give up. I showed Nolan our wedding photos. “We’re almost getting married.” He only said—dream girl. “Even daring to Photoshop wedding photos.” Aurelia slapped me several times, cut off my long hair, took photos of me naked, and almost posted them online. Nolan’s memory returned just in time. He took me home, held me while I was terrified, and said, “Let’s get married.” I closed my eyes, avoiding the mirror showing my messy hedgehog hair. I wiped away my tears and nodded. It was the fifth time I forgave him. A tear was about to fall but vanished from my eye. I stood up. My overworked legs, after a brief rest, felt even more swollen and sore. I almost lost my balance. I gritted my teeth and persevered. I took off my veil, pulled off my wig, revealing my messy short hair. I told the bridesmaids, “Your task is over early.” For the tenth time, I wasn’t going to forgive Nolan. During Nolan’s fourth memory loss, I knew he was lying. I couldn’t find a reason. I repeatedly told myself, “Just forgive him one last time.” I convinced myself five times. Until last night, when I heard Nolan and Griffin’s conversation. “She’s not as good as Aurelia.” “She’s too boring.” “Only knows how to crochet.” “Tease her.” Until this morning, I waited and waited, but he never appeared. I staggered to find my suitcase and took out two crocheted dolls. They were of an eight-year-old Nolan and me. When I was six, my dad was a long-haul trucker and rarely came home. My mom, unable to bear the loneliness, cheated, and my dad caught her in the act. I watched them fall from a high building, both dying. After a year in an orphanage, Nolan’s parents adopted me. Another year later, Nolan’s parents went mountain climbing with friends. They died from hypothermia in an accident. On the day of the funeral, people surrounded me, looking down. They said, “Jinx.” “Killed your biological parents, and now your adoptive parents.” Hundreds of fingers poked my forehead. I stood there helplessly. Nolan’s eyes were red, silent, staring at me. I instinctively wanted to say sorry. But he took my hand. We passed a photo booth and took a picture together. He stared at the photo for a long time and said, “I’ll take care of you from now on.” That ‘from now on’ lasted until I was twenty-seven. I cut up the dolls. Packed all the crochet needles and yarn into my suitcase. As I was leaving, the bridesmaid who defended Nolan stopped me. “Maybe you should give Mr. Nolan more time.” “He really loves you.” I ignored her, but she persistently blocked me. “I’ve seen the wedding venue Mr. Nolan arranged for you, romantic and luxurious.” “He even custom-made a wedding dress for you.” “Even we bridesmaids were personally chosen by him.” “He said you’re slow to warm up, shy, and reserved, and asked us to take good care of you.” “He’s done so much for you, how could he not want you?” I was silent for a long time. Finally, I raised my eyes and curiously asked, “Why is it that he doesn’t want me?” “And not that I don’t want him?” I took off the custom-made traditional wedding dress. Handed it to the talkative bridesmaid. Left the place and hailed a cab. The driver kept asking where I was going. “Anywhere.” I leaned back against the seat with my eyes closed. My phone kept vibrating. The affluent lady, who frequently ordered crochet dolls from me, transferred money at 4 a.m. At 9 a.m., she inexplicably sent an apology. Followed by: “If you want a change of scenery, come to Bay City.” She sent her home’s door lock code, assuring me she’s not a bad person and I shouldn’t worry about safety. “While you’re here, I won’t return home.” “There are no cameras at home.” “Neighbors can vouch that I’m a good person.” “Or… I can show you my ID.” The sticky and bitter wind blew against my face. I replied, “No need.” Three and a half hours later, I arrived in Bay City. The fatigue was blown away by the fresh air of Bay City. I took two deep breaths and suddenly heard someone calling me from behind. “Miss Fiona, Mr. Asher sent me to pick you up.” The year Nolan got into college, I became a weaver, using crochet to support his studies. At first, I was inexperienced. The dolls with crooked noses and eyes lay on the stall, ignored. In despair, I gave a doll to a boy who was bullied. Later, as my skills improved, more customers came. I ran a stall and opened an online shop. I met the affluent lady through the online shop and added each other as friends. Her profile picture was a silly doll, never used voice messages, and her texts were always polite. She regularly placed orders from me. I assumed she was a woman. Only today did I realize the affluent lady was actually a wealthy young man. The driver wouldn’t say why. Until he parked in front of a villa. I entered the password, and as the door opened, I was captivated by rows of handmade dolls. They were neatly displayed behind glass, warm and delicate. On the coffee table in the middle of the living room was an envelope. Inside were tickets to the hottest male star Asher’s concert. Asher, too familiar. Most customers who ordered dolls wanted his fan merchandise. I crocheted so many, so well, they became more lifelike, and business boomed. Putting down the tickets, I tidied up and sent a message of gratitude to Mr. Asher. Halfway through typing, I received a call from Nolan. The same old routine. He ‘forgot’ again, and his phone notes showed I was his future wife. “So, may I ask, are you really my fiancée?” The voice on the other end was cautious, curious. Early this morning, even three hours ago, I had been hoping for such a call. But now, all anticipation had been crushed into nothing by the high pressure and airflow. I couldn’t help but laugh and said, “You got the wrong person.” Nolan and I grew up relying on each other, without the love of a father or mother. As I matured and learned more about love and how I wanted to be loved, I gave everything I could to Nolan.

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In the fourth year of my involvement with Jasper, my family went bankrupt. His cherished one seized the moment to remark, “It’s the perfect time for her to face some hardships and temper her pampered nature.” Jasper listened to her and abandoned me on a street in a foreign land. Four months later, battered and bruised, I returned to New York. Everyone assumed I would continue to cling to Jasper. Instead, I deliberately avoided him and returned his gifts. I completely severed ties with him. Jasper laughed with his friends, “Finally got rid of that clingy person.” But on the day I left New York, he chased me to the airport, his voice trembling as he pleaded, “Nora, stay, let’s be like we were before, okay?” I smiled and pointed to my slightly bulging belly: “Jasper, look, how can we be like before?” 1 When I returned to New York with all my wounds, Assistant Liam came to the airport to pick me up. When I arrived, the atmosphere in the private room was lively. As I approached, I heard Jasper’s voice, “Seems like Nora has improved, she’s much more well-behaved now.” “Her pampered nature should have been tempered long ago.” “Iris was right, now that Nora’s family is bankrupt, she’s not an heiress anymore.” “If she behaves spoiled like before, who will put up with her?” “Poor Jasper, she’ll cling to you even more now.” Jasper sneered, “Don’t I know? She’s just a clingy person.” At that moment, he saw me pushing the door open. The room, filled with laughter and chatter, suddenly fell silent. I saw shock, surprise, and disbelief in their eyes. Four months ago, I was a radiant, arrogant heiress. Now I was haggard, thin, like a refugee escaping from hell. The always gracious Iris spoke with concern: “Nora, what happened to you? Come in…” But I stood there without moving. I didn’t react as I used to when I saw Iris sitting next to Jasper, writing my displeasure all over my face. Then, getting provoked by Iris’s words, crying in anger, and having a big fight with Jasper. The gatherings always ended unpleasantly, which made many people dislike me. Thinking of these, I found it laughable. “What are you standing there for? Come in already.” Jasper frowned at me, his expression was the familiar disdain and impatience. 2 I lowered my eyes and smiled faintly. “Jasper, thank you for sending Assistant Liam to the airport for me.” “Nora?” “I came today to return this to you.” I took a small box out of my coat pocket and handed it over. It was an ordinary luxury brand necklace. The only birthday gift Jasper had ever given me in all these years. I liked it a lot and cherished it, only wearing it on my birthday. But now, I don’t want it anymore. Jasper didn’t take it, sitting there with a cold face, lips tightly pressed. I hesitated for a moment and placed the box on the table beside him. “Nora, your hand…” A girl nearest to me exclaimed softly. Jasper’s gaze immediately fell on my hand. The back of my hand was full of cracked scars, and my once delicate fingertips had many blisters. They had scabbed over, twisted, deformed, ugly. I pulled my hand back into my sleeve and looked at Jasper again. “Jasper, there’s one last thing I need to do today.” “What is it?” His voice was chilling. “Clinging to you all these years must have been annoying.” I smiled apologetically at him, “I was immature and willful before, I apologize.” “From now on, it won’t happen again.” With that, I didn’t linger and turned to leave. As I stepped out, Jasper called after me. “Nora.” “You better mean it, don’t lie and end up contradicting yourself.” I paused but didn’t turn back. “Okay.” 3 The night my family fell apart, I was still abroad. My beloved dad couldn’t be saved. Soon after, mom liquidated all the assets. She went straight to the United States to seek refuge with my uncle. All she left me was this small apartment. I didn’t blame her for leaving me; I was grateful she didn’t leave me homeless. This bed was small, but compared to squeezing into a basement with seven or eight people abroad, it was so much better. I had the best, soundest sleep in four months. Until the doorbell woke me. Seeing Jasper through the peephole surprised me. But I quickly remembered he had an apartment here too. I opened the door and before he could speak, I said, “Sorry, I’ll move out soon. I’ll list this apartment with a real estate agent.” “Nora, what do you mean?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but after I said those words, Jasper’s face turned incredibly grim. “I’ll move today, I promise you won’t see me again.” After I said that, I picked up my phone to contact a real estate agent. Just as I dialed, Jasper suddenly grabbed my phone and smashed it on the ground. “You’ve been playing hard to get for four years, haven’t you had enough?” “Sell the apartment, move out? Then end up on the streets in the middle of the night, crying and calling me for help?” “And eventually move into my place, right?” “Nora, can’t you improve a bit, stop playing these tricks?” I looked at my phone shattered on the floor with a pang of heartache. Those months, even filling my stomach was a luxury. This phone was a second-hand one given to me by a kind shopkeeper upon my return. I crouched down, trying to pick up the pieces. Jasper threw his wallet at me, “Go buy a new one, I’ll pay for it.” “So you won’t have an excuse to cling to me again.” With that, he slammed the door and left. Looking at the wallet on the floor, I laughed until tears fell. In the end, I bought the cheapest phone. He was right; it’s best to owe each other nothing. I called Assistant Liam to take Jasper’s wallet. “Miss Nora, I’m sorry, I’m really tied up right now.” “Could you please send the wallet to the company?” I thought for a moment, “Alright, I’ll send it over later.”

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