Category: English

My best friend wouldn’t stop nagging me, listing out every pathetic, desperate thing I had done while chasing Tristan Vance. “You gave him your entire heart,” she said, exasperated. “And he treated you like a piece of furniture.” Finally, she sighed, poking me hard in the forehead. “Please tell me you’re done running after him like a lost puppy!” I hesitated for a moment, genuinely confused, and asked, “Who is Tristan Vance?” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, the hospital door creaked open. A man in a crisp white button-down and tailored trousers stood in the doorway. He had a lean, sharp build. With his fine features and gold-rimmed glasses, he radiated an aloof, old-money elegance. My best friend, Harper, let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Mr. Vance! You actually found the time to visit?” She then shifted her gaze to the woman trailing right behind him. “Oh, and Miss Blake is here too? Makes sense. Our Stella almost died saving Tristan, which means she practically saved you too, Serena. You definitely owe her a ‘thank you’, don’t you think?” Harper sneered. “Your timing is impeccable. If you came any later, Stella might have already been discharged.” Amidst the verbal crossfire, I turned my attention to this “Miss Blake.” She was wearing a blush-pink skirt suit, her chestnut hair half-pinned up in a chic, elegant style. Even after hearing Harper’s heavily veiled sarcasm, her expression didn’t change. She spoke in a soft, gentle voice. “I came specifically to thank Stella. I heard she’s being discharged? Her injuries must not be too serious, then.” 2 According to Harper, I ended up in the hospital because I was trying to protect Serena. Well, more accurately: the moment the massive billboard collapsed on the commercial set, Tristan rushed to shield his childhood sweetheart, Serena. And I, like an idiot, rushed to shield my boyfriend, Tristan. The result? The golden couple stared lovingly into each other’s eyes, perfectly safe and unharmed. Meanwhile, the collateral damage—me—got exactly what I asked for: a trip to the ER. Serena stepped past Harper and stood by my bed, her voice soothing. “Stella, we’ve investigated the incident. We’ve confirmed the fault lies with the brand’s production team, and Tristan has already dispatched our lawyers to hold them accountable.” She gently slid a settlement agreement onto my lap table. “Anyway, it’s not a huge deal. Tristan and I both agree it’s best if you just sign this liability waiver for now. Once this blows over, we’ll make sure you’re compensated. “Besides, to be completely honest… if you hadn’t suddenly thrown yourself at him, things probably wouldn’t have gotten this messy.” Tristan and I. She said it so naturally, instantly drawing a thick line in the sand between “them” and “me.” Looking at the two strangers in front of me, my heart gave an involuntary, painful squeeze. I frowned, finding my own physical reaction completely baffling. Seeing my silence, Serena casually pushed the waiver closer, looking utterly confident that I would sign it on command. “Tristan and I have to catch a flight for a business trip, so we won’t disturb your rest.” Tristan stood off to the side, his handsome face completely unreadable. He offered a single, cold sentence: “Get some rest. Stop causing unnecessary drama.” And just like that, he turned and left with Serena. 3 The second they were out the door, Harper absolutely exploded. “Stella Monroe, are you a complete doormat?! That woman practically wiped her shoes on your face, and you just sat there?!” I stayed silent for a moment. “Look, I really want to be mad with you, but I literally have no idea who those people are…” Harper sucked in a sharp breath. It finally dawned on her that when I asked Who is Tristan Vance?, it wasn’t a dramatic expression of a broken heart. I, Stella Monroe, had been hit in the head so hard I literally got amnesia. 4 After the doctor confirmed my diagnosis, Harper practically wept tears of joy. “Getting hit in the head was the best thing that ever happened to you.” A giant question mark materialized above my head. “?” Harper looked at me with deep sincerity. “While you still have a functioning, rational brain, let me give you a piece of advice: stay the hell away from Tristan Vance.” Then, she filled me in on the messy, dramatic love triangle between me, Tristan, and Serena. “Serena is Tristan’s childhood sweetheart. Unfortunately for them, her family went bankrupt during their sophomore year of college, and her dad shipped her off to Europe.” Meanwhile, I had just started my freshman year. I spent four entire years chasing Tristan before I finally managed to thaw the campus ice prince. It was the peak of the tech startup boom, and Tristan and I decided to build a company together. I was always by his side—networking, pitching to investors, working the room. We spun like tops, working ourselves to the bone. We went from drinking with clients until we ended up in urgent care, to finally sitting at the head of the boardroom table, having people respectfully call us Mr. Vance and Ms. Monroe. Back then, we were the power couple of the industry. The year our company went public, Tristan had planned to propose to me. But that was the exact same year Serena returned to the States. 5 The moment she came back, she effortlessly took everything that was mine. The company I had built from the ground up, bleeding and sweating alongside Tristan for years? Serena just frowned, sighed, and said she “couldn’t find a reason to stay in the country.” With that single sentence, she wiped out years of my hard work and successfully ousted me, stepping in as the new Brand Director. And me? One of the original founders? I was demoted to a mid-level manager handling logistics. Hearing this backstory felt like listening to a stranger’s life. Not a single ripple of emotion stirred in my chest. Harper watched my calm face cautiously. “Stella… how are you feeling right now?” I thought about it for a second, then said firmly, “He’s human garbage. To hell with him.” 6 The next time I saw Tristan was the day of my discharge. Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, he was holding a generic fruit and floral basket. His long, elegant fingers looked like they belonged in a magazine. He was conventionally gorgeous, exuding an effortless, old-money aura. Serena trailed behind him like a delicate little bird, smiling. “I told Tristan you were getting discharged today. We didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so we specifically picked out this basket.” Her eyes immediately darted to my bedside table. It was empty. Her face tightened. “Stella, what’s going on? It’s been days, and you still haven’t signed the liability waiver? “Do you have any idea how much pressure the corporate sponsors are putting on us? Are you dragging this out just to throw a tantrum? “You’re being completely unreasonable and unprofessional.” 7 I completely ignored Serena’s interrogating tone. I turned to look at Tristan. “Tristan Vance?” He looked down at me, a hint of impatience in his voice. “What is it now?” I nodded. As long as he was the right guy. “Let’s break up.” He froze. Harper had just walked in from the hallway and heard exactly that. Her face lit up with pure, unadulterated triumph. She strutted to my side and tapped her temple. “Mr. Vance, our Stella…” She was about to say my brain was finally working. Tristan snapped out of his daze, his brow furrowing. “Is there something wrong with your head?” 8 Harper’s face turned beet red with anger. She slammed my medical chart right into his chest. Reading the diagnosis on the paper, Serena couldn’t hide her shock. She looked me up and down, then gently tugged on Tristan’s sleeve. “Tristan, maybe we should go talk to the doctor. Let’s see what exactly is wrong with her.” Tristan’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he gave a slight nod. He turned and walked out with Serena. The hospital door clicked shut. Through the thin walls, Serena’s soft, calculating voice drifted in. “Amnesia? Really? “How come she remembers everyone else, but conveniently forgot only you? “Even if she forgot everyone, knowing Stella’s personality, she should still remember you. “Of course, I’m not saying she’s faking it… but you were about to break up with her. Maybe she’s just using this as a new tactic to make you stay…” A moment later, Tristan’s calm, arrogant voice filtered through the crack in the door. “Yeah. She could never forget me.” 9 Serena kept going. “I know you’re worried about her, but if she’s using tricks like this to manipulate you now, what extreme things will she do next?” She urged him to leave. “It’s just a girl throwing a temper tantrum. Tristan, you have a company to run. Let me stay and talk some sense into her.” Tristan remained silent for a second, then said coldly, “Handle it.” Her blatant manipulation oozed through the door. Harper was practically breathing fire. I didn’t care at all. I seized the moment to ask the only question that actually mattered. “Hey, you said the company Tristan and I founded went public. I’m a shareholder, right? So I should be getting a massive annual dividend?” Harper scoffed. “Obviously. “If your company wasn’t pulling in insane revenue, do you think Serena would have dropped her ‘holier-than-thou’ act and practically begged to join the executive team?” Harper looked at me proudly. “What is it? Have you finally come to your senses? Are you going to use your board power to kick her out and take your throne back?! “I’ve been telling you to do that for years—” I cut her off, waving a dismissive hand. “If I’m already rich, why would I fight her for a stressful Brand Director job? “She wants to work overtime to make me money? Sounds like a great deal to me.” 10 When Serena walked back into the room, Tristan was gone. “Stella, Tristan is incredibly busy right now. If it isn’t an absolute emergency, please stop bothering him.” Her gentle tone masked a thick layer of arrogance. “I know you two are technically dating, but given his status and position now, your lack of tact is putting him in a very difficult spot.” I smiled agreeably. “Don’t worry, Ms. Blake. I definitely won’t hold him back. “After all, I co-founded the company with him. I want him to succeed more than anyone. Why would I cause trouble for my own cash cow?” I was thrilled he was out there grinding to boost my stock portfolio. Serena’s face stiffened. She forced a smile and slid a freshly printed document onto my tray. “I’m glad you see it that way. In that case, sign this liability waiver.” I smiled. “Yeah, I can’t sign that.” Serena gave me a look that screamed I knew it. “You’re causing all this drama just to force me out of the Brand Department. But it’s not going to work.” I cut her off. “Harper told me the contracting company that built that set was recommended by you. “A massive structural failure happened under your watch, and you think you can just sweep it under the rug with a piece of paper?” 11 I might have amnesia, but I wasn’t stupid. While I was in the hospital, I took the time to read through the case files. Serena’s frantic desperation to get my signature meant this accident was directly tied to her. “Who was contracted to build that massive set? I heard your family fell on hard times. Landing a massive corporate contract like that… your little brother must have been thrilled, right?” Serena’s face turned ugly. I ignored her and kept going. “A multi-million dollar project, completely botched. You must be having a really hard time explaining this to the board and the sponsors. “If you can get me to sign this waiver, you can hand it over to the corporate clients as a neat little peace offering. Problem solved, everyone is happy… except me, the sacrificial lamb. “But tell me, Serena,” I looked at her, genuinely perplexed. “Why on earth would I do that for you? “Do you honestly think you hold any weight with me?” 12 Serena took a deep breath. “Stella, I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was just a freak accident. Whether you sign it or not, I have my ways of handling it. “But Tristan is ready to dump you. You’d better start thinking about your own future. “You can’t rely on his lingering pity to leech off him forever.” She turned to leave, tossing one last quiet insult over her shoulder. “He doesn’t love you anymore. Forcing yourself on a man who doesn’t want you is just pathetic.” 13 I couldn’t care less. I unlocked my phone. Besides work group chats, my messages were completely peaceful. Pinned at the very top was Tristan. I tapped on his profile. The chat history was entirely me, pre-amnesia, acting like a desperate simp. Paragraphs of checking in on him, bringing him lunch, asking about his day. And scattered sparsely in between were his cold, one-word replies. [Yeah.] [Got it.] [Fine.] It read exactly like an employee texting a hostile boss. Harper walked me to the elevator, giving me strict instructions. “Be careful. Call me immediately if you can’t remember something.” I laughed and promised I would. The building concierge helped me scan my fob and took me up. Using my fingerprint to unlock the door, I stepped inside and looked out at the stunning, panoramic city view. My mood was fantastic. Beep. The smart lock chimed again. Tristan had come home. He was wearing a gray wool overcoat, looking like a strict, repressed academic. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his sharp eyes carried a trace of exhaustion. Seeing me, he paused. “You’re fully recovered?” His gaze was freezing, looking at me like I was a clown performing a terrible magic trick. “If you have amnesia, how did you know how to get home?” 14 I replied politely, “Mr. Vance, I have amnesia, I didn’t lose half my brain cells.” “Drop the childish games.” His eyes flared with annoyance. “Since you’re better, get back to the office tomorrow. “You’re already severely lacking in competence. With you gone these past few days, Serena has had to do all your work on top of hers.” He rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with tired frustration. “I’ve told you a million times, Serena and I grew up together. I view her as family. Why do you insist on making her life so difficult?” I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I really shouldn’t be making her life difficult.” I didn’t care about their childhood romance. All I cared about was that she kept generating revenue for my shares. Tristan froze, clearly not expecting me to agree. “Are you finished, Mr. Vance? If so, please leave.” Harper had told me that in my peak simp era, I had bought this luxury condo to be our future marital home. As he brushed past me, Tristan suddenly grabbed my arm. His brow furrowed, his handsome face hiding a dark irritation. “What kind of reverse psychology is this now?” 15 Silence hung in the air for a second. Then, Tristan dropped my arm like it was trash. “Forget it. You always pull these stunts. Is this your new strategy to get my attention? “Don’t forget to show up to work tomorrow.” With that, he left without a shred of hesitation. Before going to bed, I scrolled through Instagram to familiarize myself with my old life. The first thing that popped up was a new photo. It was Serena, smiling sweetly, leaning her head on Tristan’s shoulder. They looked like the perfect power couple. The comments were flooded with: [Goals!] [You guys are so cute together!] [When’s the wedding?!] I dropped a comment below: [Office romances are cute, but please don’t let it affect your productivity.] Do not mess with my dividends. Three seconds later, Tristan replied to my comment. [Are you insane?] 16 The next day, the second I sat at my desk, I saw a mountain of files piled high. The guy sitting at the next desk spun his chair around and barked orders at me. “Stella, handle these. And don’t forget you need to go on-site this afternoon to oversee the brand promo setup.” He scoffed, full of disdain. “You got a tiny scratch and acted like the sky was falling. Do you know how many days you’ve been out? If everyone took time off like you, this company would collapse.” A guy in thick black glasses chimed in with a sneer. “She’s a nepo-baby, what do you expect? Manager Higgins, you better watch your mouth around her. “Taking off over a little scratch, leaving Director Blake to clean up her mess and apologize to the sponsors…” Wow. Serena had some loyal lapdogs. Harper was right. My old brain really was broken to put up with this. I was a founding equity partner, yet I was sitting here doing grunt work for free, letting middle management talk down to me? I beamed a bright smile at them. “A tiny scratch? How about I drop a steel beam on your head and we see how you feel? “And with gossiping little men like you running around, the company’s already collapsing.” The guy in glasses turned bright red, then pale. Serena materialized out of nowhere. “Stella, you just got back. Why are you picking fights with your coworkers?” She stepped in to play the peacemaker, putting on the act of a benevolent leader protecting her team. “You were gone for days. Their workload doubled. Isn’t it normal for them to be a little frustrated? “We all work for the same company. Why are you being so petty?” Oh, so when they insult me, she watches the show, but when I insult them, I’m being petty? I clapped my hands slowly. “Bravo, Director Blake. You’re so kind and generous. It’s just a shame about your hearing. You didn’t hear a single insult they threw at me, did you? “Since you love playing the martyr with other people’s dignity, should I commission a statue in your honor?” Serena’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to publicly humiliate her like this. “Are you targeting Serena again?” I turned around. Tristan was standing there, looking down at me with an icy glare. He was just as deaf and blind as she was, only seeing what he wanted to see. With Tristan backing her up, Serena instantly grew a spine. She smiled gently, looping her arm through his. “It’s fine. Don’t blame Stella. I’m used to it.” Tristan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Is this company your personal playground to throw tantrums?” Before I could answer, he ordered, “My office. Now.” 17 The moment the door closed, Tristan started tearing into me. “Why won’t you sign the waiver? Do you have any idea how much money the company will lose because of your petty stubbornness? “Stella, I thought you at least knew how to look at the big picture.” His tone was heavy with disappointment. “The old you knew exactly what was appropriate and what wasn’t.” I nodded in sudden realization. “In other words, you got too comfortable treating me like a doormat, and now you feel entitled to it?” I tossed the dossier I had compiled last night onto his desk. “The contractor who built that promo set entirely ignored our safety regulations and blueprints. That’s why it collapsed. “In other words, they cut corners. It wasn’t an ‘accident.’” The air in the room shifted. Tristan frowned, glancing down at the papers. I looked at Serena. “This project was overseen by Director Blake. She should bear at least ninety percent of the liability. Furthermore, it appears the contractor is actually Director Blake’s younger brother?” Tristan’s head snapped up. He stared hard at Serena. Serena bit her lip, her voice trembling. “Stella, I know you’re angry that I took your Director position, but you shouldn’t stoop this low. “Corporate bidding has strict protocols. I’m just a mid-level director, I don’t have the power to rig a bid.” Serena was utterly incompetent, but she was a master at using Tristan’s name to bully the procurement department into doing her bidding. I didn’t have the time or energy to fight her on this. A faint smile touched my lips. “I’m thrilled you’re working for me, Director Blake. Why would I frame you? “I don’t dislike you because you’re malicious. I dislike you because you’re talentless, yet you insist on acting like you run the place. “You’re in way over your head.” 18 All the color drained from Serena’s face. She furrowed her brow, and her two loyal lapdogs immediately jumped in to defend her. Serena’s assistant barked at me, “Just because you’re the CEO’s girlfriend doesn’t mean you can throw your weight around and make up lies! Everyone knows how hard Director Blake works! “You might be dating Mr. Vance, but does anyone in this company actually respect you? “If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut and be grateful I get to ride his coattails, instead of making a fool of myself.” I stood there calmly. The mocking, scornful eyes of the office staff were fixed on me. Whispers hissed through the bullpen. Through the glass walls of his private office, Tristan stood silently, just watching the circus unfold. It was hilarious. “I compiled all the evidence in that file. You didn’t even look at it before accusing me of abusing my power. “I am Tristan’s ex-girlfriend, yes. But more importantly, I am a founding equity partner of this company. “If I truly abused my power, you would have been fired an hour ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here running your mouth.” I stood up, my voice turning to ice. “I officially resign from my position as Operations Director.” Tristan jolted, staring at me in shock. I thought he was going to threaten my severance package. Instead, his lips parted slightly. “Ex-girlfriend? What are you talking about?” I looked him dead in the eyes, enunciating every word. “Before I left the hospital, I told you we were broken up, Mr. Vance.”

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I was blacklisted by the entire internet for supposedly being the “other woman” in an A-list movie star’s relationship. The production crew of a dating reality show wanted to watch the world burn, so they invited me to join the show alongside the star and his girlfriend. I didn’t want to go, but they simply offered too much money. The whole world expected to watch me fail at seducing him. Instead, a silver Maserati MC20 roared into the frame. The driver, with a wicked smirk and a lazy drawl, said: “Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me?” With that one sentence, the entire live stream crashed. 1 Because I was photographed looking “too close” with my co-star, Austin Hayes, I was labeled as the homewrecker destroying his relationship with his non-celebrity girlfriend. My fans tried to defend me, which only led to more accusations—claiming I was “bullying a commoner.” In the heat of the scandal, the producers of the reality show Catch the Spark decided to lean into the chaos. They invited me to be a guest. I wasn’t interested in the drama, but the paycheck they offered had too many zeros to ignore. Austin and his girlfriend, Lila Moore, were the “it” couple of the show. They had a massive following of “shippers.” That’s why everyone was so vicious toward me when the rumors broke. But this was a dating show. What was I supposed to do there? Be a mascot? The producers were vague. “Just show up,” they said. “We’ll handle the rest.” On the first day of filming, the moment I appeared on screen, the comment section exploded. Most of it was pure vitriol. —”WTF? Sienna actually showed up?” —”She has no shame. Dancing right in front of the real girlfriend.” —”Cancel the homewrecker!” The few fans brave enough to speak up were instantly buried under a mountain of hate. See? To destroy a female actress, all you have to do is whisper the word “mistress.” As I stood there lost in thought, a familiar black SUV pulled up. Austin and Lila stepped out. He carefully shielded her as she climbed down, as if she were a piece of fragile porcelain. The camera crew, clearly looking for a viral moment, cut between the two of them looking deeply in love and me standing alone on the corner like a pathetic loser. The comments peaked: —”The showdown! The showdown!” —”The mistress meets the wife. This is better than the Oscars.” —”Austin is so protective! Ugh, Sienna is such trash for trying to ruin this.” I couldn’t agree more. I also wanted to know what I was doing there. Lila was wearing a simple yellow sundress. She barely had any makeup on—just a bit of tint on her lips. She looked like the “girl next door,” pure and innocent. She looked at me as if she had never seen the tabloids. She smiled gently and reached out her hand. “Hi, you’re Sienna, right? I’m Lila.” As she reached out, a massive diamond—a total “rock”—flashed under the sun. Every woman loves diamonds. And damn, that thing was blinding. Lila seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly pulled her hand back, looking apologetic. She covered the ring with her other hand, a classic “I’m trying to hide it but I actually want you to see it” move. Message received: He’s mine. The comments caught it too. —”OMG! Was that an engagement ring?!” —”Did Austin propose? Is that a rock or a planet?!” —”LMAO, look at Sienna’s face. She looks so awkward.” —”Producers, get her off the screen. She’s an eyesore next to them.” Just then, a roar of an engine echoed from the distance. The camera panned away. A silver Maserati MC20 drifted into the shot. The driver rolled down the window just enough to show a hand with well-defined knuckles. His profile was sharp, a pair of dark aviators resting on a high bridge of a nose. Even the staff cleared a path. Lila looked over with curiosity. She had been on the show for several episodes, but she’d never seen a guest arrive with this much swagger. The butterfly doors swung upward. It was effortlessly cool. The driver stepped out, his long legs moving with a lazy grace. The world seemed to go silent. My heart beat in sync with his movements as he took off his sunglasses. The wind caught his dark hair. Even in a tailored suit, he had this air of untamed rebellion. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. A faint, wicked smirk touched his lips as his eyes locked onto me. The camera zoomed in on his face. The chat went dead for three seconds before a nuclear explosion of comments occurred. —”HOLY CRAP! Who is this guy?!” —”Does anyone know him? Is he a new model?” —”I’ve never seen him in Hollywood. Who is he?!” While the internet was losing its mind, the mystery man spoke. He looked straight at me, his voice low and honey-thick. “Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me? You left me all alone in bed.” The internet broke. —”Did he… did he just say… HONEY?” —”Am I hallucinating?” —”Is he talking to… Sienna? No way. No freaking way.” He didn’t wait for the comments to catch up. He walked over, his long strides reaching me in seconds. Lila stood there with her mouth open, looking between the producers and this newcomer. She clearly hadn’t been briefed on this. Ignoring the cameras, the man buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I missed you, baby.” Me: ??? Internet: ??? —”My eyes are failing or my ears are lying!” —”Is this Sienna’s boyfriend?!” —”I need a background check! Now! Who is this man?!” 2 And just like that, Rowan became the new guest on the show. Watching us standing there with our fingers interlocked, the other guests had… complicated expressions. Rowan’s background was a fortress. If he didn’t want you to know, you could dig six feet under and still find nothing. He didn’t seem to want to reveal his full identity yet. When the director asked for an introduction, he just smirked. “Just your average trust-fund kid.” He held my hand so naturally, like we had been together for a lifetime. I looked down at our joined hands. Faded memories started to clear. I remembered many years ago… Rowan had said to me: “Sienna, I’m coming back for you. Even if you don’t wait for me, it doesn’t matter. I’ll find you.” He actually did it. After the intros, we headed to the rooms to unpack. In the stairwell, Rowan glanced at the cameraman. The poor guy was so intimidated he immediately turned his back to “film the wall.” Rowan wrapped an arm around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my head. “Baby, I was gone for a while. Did anyone bully you?” The cameraman turned the lens away, but he forgot to turn off the mic. That one husky, protective sentence sent the live stream into another meltdown. —”CAMERAMAN! I order you to turn around right now!” —”His voice is so hot! The protectiveness!” —”Is this what it feels like to be a VIP member? I want more!” Tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to turn around and tell him how much I missed him, and how much the internet had hurt me. But I held it in. I’d tell him after the cameras were off. I wasn’t giving the haters the satisfaction of seeing my private heart. Rowan carried my luggage up. Before we could even settle, the producers sent an envelope with our first task. “Guests, please settle your luggage. Gentlemen, please assemble in the lobby. Ladies, please wait in your rooms.” Rowan kissed my forehead. “Be right back.” —”Help, why do I think they’re the perfect match?” —”They have so much chemistry. This can’t be scripted.” —”Don’t be naive. Sienna probably hired an actor to wash off the mistress labels.” 3 The lobby was filled with racks of women’s clothing. The host explained: “Tonight, we are hosting a gala. The men must choose a complete outfit for their partners. The ladies will wear whatever you pick.” The comments were already laughing. —”LMAO, I’m so curious about Austin’s taste.” —”I’ve been married for ten years and I still don’t let my husband buy me socks.” The racks were overwhelming. Arthur, an older actor, went straight for a classic, modest emerald gown for his wife. It was safe and dignified. Austin and a younger idol named Jax were struggling. Austin walked around with a frown, especially when he saw the more “daring” designer dresses. —”Hahaha, Austin looks like a grumpy dad at a mall.” —”He looks offended by every sequin!” Finally, Austin went to the casual section. He picked a thick, white cable-knit sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. He paired them with… sneakers. The chat lost it: —”The logic is there, but why did he pick the one with a cartoon sheep on it? It’s so ugly!” —”Lila is an adult woman. Why the sheep sweater?!” —”It’s a gala! Why did he pick casual clothes?” In the interview booth, Austin looked into the camera. “It’s fall now. It’ll be cold tonight. I want Lila to be warm and modest. Those other dresses are too revealing. Lila looks best when she’s covered up.” —”Ugh, typical controlling boyfriend vibes.” —”He’s literally that guy who gets mad if you show an inch of skin.” —”Is Lila actually going to wear a sheep sweater to a gala?” —”Look! Rowan is picking. I wonder what the ‘average trust-fund kid’ chooses.” Rowan walked past the racks everyone else was ignoring—the high-fashion, bold silhouettes. He pulled three dresses and studied them seriously, as if he were analyzing a stock market crash. Finally, he chose a white strapless piece. It was architectural and sharp, with a thigh-high slit and a trail of star-like diamonds at the hem. He even picked out the perfect stilettos. The chat went silent, then roared: —”Taste. Absolute taste.” —”I saw that dress on a runway last month. It’s gorgeous but so hard to pull off.” The director asked him: “Why this dress? The other men went for ‘safe’ designs.” Rowan looked at the camera, his eyes brightening. “Because Sienna will look like a goddess in this.” “She loves to be beautiful, so I want to give her the best. It’s a party. I want her to shine. My job is just to protect her while she burns the room down.” The chat shifted. While the other men chose based on their comfort—making sure their women weren’t “too exposed”—Rowan chose based on what I would love. He smirked at the lens. “I have to pick the best. If she doesn’t look stunning, she won’t be happy. And I hate it when she’s not happy.” —”I officially ship them! To hell with the haters!” 4 I was thrilled with the dress. Rowan knew me too well. But when I stepped out of the dressing room, Rowan didn’t look happy. He was sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. “Sienna, doesn’t your agency handle this crap?” He was looking at the leaked “intimate” photos of me and Austin. I walked over and flipped his phone face down. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. Do I look good?” Rowan looked up and his expression softened instantly. “I knew you’d be breathtaking.” He pulled me into his lap, burying his face in my waist. His voice was muffled. “I just hate that they talk about you like that.” “Sienna, you’re the best person I know.” 5 I expected the other men’s choices to be bad, but I didn’t realize they’d be this bad. Lila was wearing the sheep sweater—which was at least two sizes too big—and jeans that swallowed her legs. She looked like a middle-schooler at a pajama party. Jax’s girlfriend, Chloe, a high-fashion model, was forced into a strawberry-print sundress. It looked ridiculous. I stood at the door, almost afraid to walk in. Lila looked like she was on the verge of tears. I felt bad for her—Austin really had zero sense of style. When I walked in, the chat went from “LMAO” to “HOLY SH—.” —”Goddess. Absolute goddess.” —”Rowan is a visionary. This outfit is legendary.” —”My eyes are being blessed.” The host announced: “Gentlemen, please invite your partners to the dance floor.” The lights dimmed. Rowan bowed slightly, extending his hand. “Sienna, may I have this dance?” The Rowan in front of me overlapped with the teenage boy in my memory who had asked for my first dance with that same fiery gaze. I nodded and slid into his arms. The other couples looked miserable in their outfits, and Lila eventually excused herself, claiming she didn’t feel well. The world narrowed down to just Rowan and me. He spun me around, our noses almost touching. —”KISS HER! KISS HER! I’M BEGGING YOU!” As if hearing the internet’s prayer, he tilted his head and kissed me deeply. —”AHAHHAHAA! MY SHIP IS SAILING!” —”Kill me now, this is too sweet.” Suddenly, a new hashtag exploded on Twitter: #SiennaSugarDaddy A tabloid leaked photos of me from a few years ago. I was leaning affectionately against a middle-aged man in a suit. Internet sleuths quickly identified him: The Chairman of the Sterling Group, one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country. —”God, are these real?” —”So she does have a benefactor.” —”No wonder she got that lead role last year. She’s been a kept woman this whole time.” —”Mistress habits die hard. First a billionaire, now a movie star.” The staff signaled for me to go backstage. The comments were turning toxic again. Rowan was called away too. He looked furious. When I saw the photo, I… blanked out for a second. Rowan walked in, saw the photo, and his brow instantly relaxed. I had thought it was a deepfake or a clever angle. But the photo was real. I even had the original on my phone. The man in the photo was the Chairman of Sterling Group. His name is Robert Sterling. Rowan’s father. My uncle-in-law. The photo was cropped. In the original, Rowan was sitting right on the other side of me. We were at Robert’s birthday party. Rowan looked at the screen, his face cold. He grabbed his phone and called his PR department. “Give me the login for the official Sterling Group Instagram.” He logged in and posted the full, uncropped photo with a caption: “Family dinner.” The reversal was the fastest in the history of internet scandals. —”Wait, what? That’s Rowan’s DAD?!” —”I’m dying. Tabloids tried to frame a girl for dating her own father-in-law.” —”Wait… Rowan’s dad is the Chairman? So Rowan is…” Rowan’s true identity was out. —”ROWAN IS THE STERLING HEIR?!” —”He said he was an ‘average trust-fund kid.’ Dude is literally royalty.” —”Who could ‘hire’ a Sterling to play a boyfriend? This is real love.” —”I’m eating my words. They taste like crow, but they’re delicious.” Rowan didn’t care about the show anymore. He sat in the staff area and registered his own personal account. His first post: “Hi everyone, I’m Rowan Sterling. Sienna and I have been together for years. I joined this show to surprise her, not realizing she was being bullied by fake rumors. Whether it was the photos with Austin or my father, it’s all absurd. We will be taking legal action against every account that defamed her.” The internet crashed. Again. #RowanSterlingHeir #SiennaAndRowan #TheSterlingProtector The other guests looked at us with entirely different eyes now. 6 Back in the bedroom that night, I looked at Rowan. “Rowan, now that everyone knows… should I quit acting?” I knew he didn’t care, but the “Old Money” world usually looked down on Hollywood. My own father had threatened to disown me when I started. (I didn’t care, I was already the black sheep.) “Sienna,” Rowan said, his voice serious. “I have enough power now to make sure you never have to worry about what ‘they’ think. You shine on screen. I watch every one of your movies on repeat. I’ll back your career until the day you decide you’re done. I love you, and I love the version of you that follows her dreams.” My eyes watered. No one had ever chosen me this firmly. I grew up in a wealthy family, too, but compared to the Sterlings, we were new money. My parents were obsessed with the “right” image. After my mom passed away, my dad remarried and had a new “perfect” family. I was the leftover child. Then I met Rowan. He was the high school rebel. The guy who treated the school rules like a suggestion. Everyone was terrified of him, or obsessed with him. I thought he was just another bored rich kid. But he chased me for a year and a half. He took me to movies, watched me play volleyball, taught me how to ride a horse, and made me laugh until I forgot I was the “unwanted” daughter. The day of his father’s birthday, he took me to meet his whole family. He announced to the room: “This is my girlfriend, Sienna. Isn’t she beautiful? You guys are all jealous, I know.” His family was actually lovely. Later, I found out the “deal” he made with his dad to let us be together was that he had to go abroad to study business and prove he could run the company. “Sienna, wait for me,” he had said. “And if you don’t, it’s okay. I’ll still find you.” I waited. Shortly after he left, an Oscar-winning director found me. He said my mom had helped him years ago, and he wanted to pay it back. He offered me a lead role. I became a star overnight. I never went back to my father’s house. For years, we were a world apart. Sometimes I’d be filming until 3 AM, just as he was waking up. We lived in the gaps of our time zones. I missed him so much it hurt. 7 Now he was right here. Rowan pulled me into his arms. “Go to sleep, baby.” “We’re never being apart again,” I whispered. “Never.” 8 The next morning, the director—ever the opportunist—changed the rules of the show to capitalize on our fame. We were sent to a remote countryside village to live in “farmhouses.” Rowan and I were the first to arrive. We picked a small cottage by a stream. The owners were an elderly couple who treated us with amazing warmth. The comments were peaceful for once: —”I’m just here to watch the nepo-heir experience a farm.” —”He looks so confused by the chickens.” We were tasked with feeding the chickens. Rowan looked at the birds like they were a new species of alien. He crouched down, staring at a particularly scruffy chicken with a bald tail. He pulled out his phone and opened a “Pet Translator” app. He spoke into the phone: “Hey, scruffy. What happened to your tail?” The phone translated: “Cluck cluck cluck!” (Translation: None of your business!) I stared at him. “Why do you have that app? Does it actually work?” The chicken tilted its head and let out a sharp cry. Translator app: “Eat my dust, human.” The chat exploded: —”LMAO! Rowan is a comedy genius!” —”The chicken really said ‘None of your business!’” The old couple asked me if Rowan liked the chicken. I hesitated. “I think so…” The chat: —”I have a bad feeling about this. Look at the grandma’s face.” —”They’re gonna cook the chicken, aren’t they?” Sure enough, for lunch, the scruffy chicken was served on a platter. Rowan looked like he was about to cry. He took a photo of the dish and whispered, “Rest in peace, buddy.” Then he took a bite. “Damn… he’s delicious.” The chat: —”RIP Scruffy. You were tasty.” —”Rowan is so chaotic, I love it.”

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I asked my brother to buy me a pack of tampons. When his girlfriend found out, she immediately cursed me out in our family group chat. “How do you have the nerve to ask your brother to buy something as intimate as tampons? Don’t you know boundaries? You’re shameless! Are you so terrified of dying alone that you’re trying to seduce your own brother?” The next day, not only did she show up at our house to mark her territory, but she also tried to set me up on a blind date with an old creep. When we rejected him, she threw a tantrum and threatened to abort the baby in her belly. My parents just shrugged calmly. “We aren’t the Royal Family. We don’t have a throne to pass down. Do whatever you want!” 1 Aunt Flo arrived early, I had run out of tampons, and my cramps were killing me. I had no choice but to text my brother, Liam, who happened to be at the grocery store downstairs, to pick up a box for me. Who knew that half an hour later, Liam’s girlfriend, Emma, would send a barrage of explosive texts to our family group chat? [Do people have absolutely zero sense of boundaries nowadays? Asking your brother to buy something as intimate as tampons? You’re completely shameless!] [You’re almost thirty and you don’t even have a boyfriend. Are you trying to seduce your own brother because you can’t get a man?] [Even animals know not to mate with their own kin! If you’re that desperate and thirsty, I can introduce you to some guys.] [I haven’t even married into this family yet, and there’s already a pick-me trying to steal my boyfriend.] Staring at the wall of text attacking me, I was stunned. I admit, asking Liam—who had a girlfriend—to buy tampons might have been a slight oversight on my part, and I made a mental note to be more mindful. But if she minded that much, she could have just communicated it calmly. Was it really necessary to hurl abuse at me? After all, we hadn’t even met in person yet. We had only exchanged a few polite greetings two days ago when Liam added her to the family group chat. I hadn’t done anything to offend her. Why was she suddenly firing off like a loose cannon? Was there something wrong with her brain? And cursing at me was one thing, but accusing me of seducing Liam? That was crossing a massive line. I was adopted, so I shared no blood with Liam, but we had grown up together. Our bond was exactly like real siblings. How could her mind be so filthy? After thinking it over, I forwarded the screenshots to Liam. I hoped he would handle the situation appropriately. But Liam didn’t reply. Seeing my silence in the group chat, Emma probably thought I was scared. Feeling emboldened, she fired off a few more vicious insults. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I replied directly in the chat. [I suggest you go to the doctor and get tested for a stomach infection.] Emma replied instantly: [What is that supposed to mean?] [Because your breath stinks!] Furious, she immediately tagged Liam. [Look at your sister! I haven’t even walked through your door yet, and she’s already bullying me! They say a sister-in-law is just a second monster-in-law. They weren’t wrong!] I was typing out a scathing reply when Liam’s message finally popped up. 2 [Alright, both of you say a little less. It’s late, Mom and Dad are sleeping. Stop arguing in the chat.] Only then did Emma back down, and the group chat finally went quiet. A little while later, Liam came home. He handed me the tampons and explained what happened. Apparently, he had been on FaceTime with Emma while checking out. Eagle-eyed Emma spotted the tampons in his cart and immediately interrogated him. He explained they were for me, and without noticing the shift in her mood, he hung up to pay for his groceries. By the time he checked his phone again, we were already at each other’s throats. “Sis, I apologize on Emma’s behalf. Don’t take it to heart.” I took a deep breath, patted his shoulder, and gave him a subtle warning. “You might want to evaluate your girlfriend’s character a bit more closely.” Liam pushed his glasses up and quickly defended her. “Sis, Emma is actually a really sweet person. It’s just because she recently got pregnant. Her hormones are making her unstable and extra sensitive. That’s why she blurted out all that nonsense. Don’t hold it against her. I’m actually bringing her over tomorrow to meet Mom and Dad. Once you meet her, you’ll see.” Since Liam put it that way, I didn’t say anything else. My cramps were agonizing anyway, so I didn’t dwell on the drama. I washed up and went straight to sleep. I didn’t expect to be woken up the next morning by frantic, aggressive knocking on my door. I checked the time. It was barely 7:00 AM. Groggy, I opened the door and saw a girl in a tube top and a tight mini-skirt, standing with her arms crossed, glaring at me. “Who are you?” I asked, confused. The girl’s face instantly dropped. She rolled her eyes at me and barged straight into the living room. That’s when it clicked. This was Emma. Wow. Coming over as a guest and acting like this right off the bat? And Liam said she was a “sweet person”? I rolled my eyes, walked into the bathroom, and started brushing my teeth. Through the door, I overheard Emma complaining to Liam. “She knew I was visiting your family for the first time today, and she didn’t even wait at the door to greet me. She’s actually sleeping in? Is she a lazy pig?” Standing there with a mouth full of toothpaste, I really wanted to march out and slap her across the face. Wait at the door to greet her? Who did she think she was? The Queen of England? Did her arrival bring glory to our humble home? If that wasn’t enough, she called me a pig. Did she have zero social filter? But she didn’t seem to realize how rude she was being, and just kept running her mouth. “And your parents! They’re nowhere to be seen. It’s obvious your family doesn’t respect me at all.” “Who said that? It’s just because you came over so early!” Liam coaxed her while peeling a lychee for her. “And my sister wasn’t feeling well, so she slept in. As for my parents, they knew you were coming, so they woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the farmers market to buy fresh seafood for you. They just aren’t back yet.” Emma happily ate the fruit. By the time I changed my clothes and walked out, my parents had returned. Seeing Emma, they gave a simple, polite greeting and went straight to the kitchen to prep the food. I could tell their attitude was cold. They were early risers, which meant they had definitely seen Emma’s unhinged texts in the group chat from last night. They clearly didn’t have a good impression of her. But for Liam’s sake, they didn’t make it too obvious. I didn’t want to look at her either, so I headed toward the kitchen to help. Surprisingly, Emma grabbed my arm, acting incredibly sweet and affectionate. 3 “Sis, I noticed your bedroom is way bigger than Liam’s, and the interior design is totally my vibe. How about you give it to me starting today?” She smiled ingratiatingly, acting as if her cursing me out last night had never happened. But I wasn’t about to let it slide. Disgusted, I yanked my arm away and gave her a fake smile. “We only have three bedrooms. If I give mine to you, where am I supposed to sleep?” She casually pointed toward the storage room, speaking as if she were granting me a favor. “That room is a bit small, but if you clean it out, it’s perfectly livable. Besides, it won’t be an inconvenience for long. Once you finally get married, you’ll have to move out anyway.” Heh. She hadn’t even married into the family yet, and she was already acting like the lady of the house, barking orders and trying to evict me. Her audacity was off the charts. To avoid embarrassing Liam, I swallowed my anger and looked pointedly at him. If he had any sense, he would shut down Emma’s ridiculous demand himself. To my shock, even though he clearly heard her, he just kept his head down, peeling his lychee, not daring to utter a single word. Instead, it was my mom, who had just walked out carrying a plate, who pushed back with a polite smile. “The storage room can’t even fit a twin bed. How is anyone supposed to sleep there? Besides, when you and Liam get married, you’ll be sharing his room. Why would a married couple sleep in separate rooms?” Emma looked displeased. She pouted her lips. “Auntie, I’m pregnant! Liam tosses and turns in his sleep. I wanted separate rooms because I’m afraid he’ll hurt the baby.” “Well, that’s the house we have. Liam will just have to be more careful,” my mom said with a helpless shrug. Failing to get her way, Emma’s face darkened. She looked like she was fuming. I pressed my lips together, smiling silently. Nice try. Did you really think being pregnant gave you a free pass to act like a tyrant? You clearly didn’t know who you were dealing with. My mom definitely didn’t subscribe to the archaic “favor boys over girls” mentality. Just then, my cat smelled the food and darted out, accidentally brushing against Emma’s leg. She shrieked, dramatically jumping into Liam’s arms, and began bossing him around. “Why is there a cat in this house?! I’m terrified of those things. Liam, hurry up and throw it out!” She aggressively nudged Liam to take action. Liam stood there looking incredibly awkward. As he hesitated, the cat jumped into my arms. I stroked its fur and smiled at Emma. “Sorry about that. She’s mine.” Emma sneered in dissatisfaction. “Those things carry so many parasites. It’s incredibly dangerous for a pregnant woman. I don’t want to see it ever again. You need to send it away immediately.” Listen to her commanding tone. If I didn’t put her in her place, I was going to give myself an ulcer. “Then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. My cat is a member of this family. We value her very much, and we won’t be sending her anywhere.” Emma stamped her foot in a panic and yelled at my mom, “I’m carrying the eldest grandson of the Liam family! Do you value a cat more than you value me?!” Using her pregnancy to pressure my mom again. But my mom wasn’t buying it. 4 “If you truly feel Chloe’s cat is a risk to you, you and Liam can always move out and get your own place. Wouldn’t you prefer to enjoy some privacy as a couple anyway?” Digging a hole and almost burying herself in it, Emma completely panicked. She knew full well that our current house was located downtown and worth millions. She was terrified that if Liam moved out, the house would go entirely to me. Desperate, she shot a frantic look at Liam. Liam finally stepped up to smooth things over. “Mom, Emma is just joking with you! Please don’t take it seriously.” For Liam’s sake, my mom didn’t push the issue. Emma sensibly kept her mouth shut, but she started checking her phone obsessively, furiously typing away as if arguing with someone. A while later, my dad finished cooking. Just as we were about to sit down to eat, the doorbell rang. When we opened the door, we were greeted by a balding, greasy, middle-aged man with a massive beer belly. He looked to be about the same age as my dad. He was holding two gift boxes, smiling widely at us. We had no idea who this man was. While we stood there bewildered, Emma hurried over, beaming as she introduced him. “Uncle, Auntie, this is my cousin, Richard!” I finally understood why she had been checking her phone so aggressively. She was rushing her “cousin.” My parents assumed Richard was here as a family representative to check out Liam’s background. They warmly invited him to the table. But the second Richard sat down… Emma delivered a fatal blow. “Uncle, Auntie, Richard is the blind date I set up for Chloe.” I literally felt my soul leave my body. Was she out of her mind? Who brings a blind date for their future sister-in-law to the very first meet-the-parents dinner? We didn’t know anything about this. We didn’t even know this guy. If she wasn’t embarrassed, we were embarrassed for her. My parents’ faces darkened, but Emma remained completely oblivious to the shift in the room. She kept proudly hyping Richard up. “Uncle, Auntie, Richard has a Ph.D. Honestly, if he wasn’t divorced with a kid, a woman with Chloe’s older age and lower education wouldn’t even deserve him. “He only agreed to come today as a favor to me, his cousin. Otherwise, he has a long line of young girls chasing after him. He’d never usually settle for leftover goods like Chloe.” Elevating him while stomping all over me. If she wasn’t pregnant, I would have slapped her across the face twice. But what left me truly speechless was Richard himself. He proudly adjusted his glasses, looking me up and down with arrogant disdain, and chimed in. “Your age is definitely a bit on the high side, but your face and figure aren’t bad. I can make a compromise and we can try dating.” Barf. Does anyone understand how insane this is? A man twenty years older than me was acting like he was settling for me. Where did he get this unearned confidence? I fought the urge to flip the dining table, watching Emma excitedly fish for compliments from my parents. “Uncle, Auntie, see how capable I am? I solved two major unmarried-children problems for your family in one day! Since it’s convenient, we might as well use this dinner to discuss Chloe and Richard’s wedding plans too!” My dad didn’t say a word. He just gripped his chopsticks tightly, staring at Liam. He clearly wanted Liam to stop Emma’s manic episode and save her some face before things got ugly. But instead of appreciating the lifeline, Liam actually agreed with Emma. “I think Emma is right. We should strike while the iron is hot. After all, Chloe isn’t getting any younger.” Liam’s words chilled me to the bone. I had been holding back my temper this entire time purely to save his dignity. I didn’t expect him to be such a scumbag. Not only did he waste my good intentions, but he was actively enabling Emma’s delusions. Since they both wanted to act like clowns, fine. I had no choice but to go completely unhinged. 5 I slowly picked up a steak knife, dragging it back and forth across my empty plate. I pretended to look incredibly casual as I spoke. “Mr. Richard, your cousin is absolutely right. I don’t just lack education… I also have a mental illness.” The moment those words left my mouth, the smug satisfaction on Richard’s face morphed into panic. Trying to keep his composure, he asked, “What illness?” I let out a creepy, hollow laugh. It sounded genuinely deranged. Richard and Emma stared at me in horror. I twisted my body unnaturally, sliding my chair right next to Richard’s. I raised the steak knife and began waving it wildly, pointing it directly toward his crotch. “I don’t know why, but whenever I see a man’s junk, I just get this overwhelming urge to slice it right off.” As my voice dropped, I shook my head tragically, letting out a heartbroken sigh. “I guess my first love cheating on me really broke my psyche beyond repair!” That little performance nearly gave Richard a heart attack. He stared at me, trembling, and swallowed hard in absolute terror. “You… you’re not sick… I-I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you! I’m leaving!” Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, he leaped out of his chair, shot Emma a furious glare, and sprinted out the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. “Richard, wait! She’s lying!” Emma tried to call after him. My dad finally snapped. He roared at her, “Get out!” Emma froze, then pointed toward the door in confusion. “He already ran out.” My dad snatched the knife from my hand and pointed a shaking finger directly at Emma. “I mean YOU should get out! Act like a decent human being for once! Yesterday you cursed Chloe out in the group chat, and we let it go for Liam’s sake. Today, without our permission, you bring a freak into our home to set her up? What normal person does something like this?!” Emma flinched, then immediately burst into tears, playing the victim. “You’re calling me abnormal? Ha… I poured my heart into helping your family, and this is how you treat me.” As she cried, she suddenly let out a bitter sneer. “You have the nerve to despise my cousin? How is Chloe any better? If she keeps being so picky, even old men won’t want her anymore. Is she planning on staying home and leeching off you for the rest of her life?” My mom couldn’t take it anymore either. She slammed her hand on the table. “Even if she stays unmarried for the rest of her life, we’d gladly let her leech off us. What’s it to you?!” Emma looked shocked, which quickly turned into furious indignation. “Your money and property are supposed to go to me and Liam! What gives you the right to waste it on her? Did you ask for our permission? “Besides, if you spend all your money on her, what about the baby in my belly? Don’t forget, this is the eldest grandson of this family! If you don’t marry her off, I’ll abort the baby!” Emma threatened us triumphantly, assuming my parents would immediately cave for the sake of their grandchild. But she miscalculated drastically. My parents delivered a fatal blow. 6 “We aren’t the Royal Family. We don’t have a throne to pass down. Do whatever you want!” Emma stared at my parents in utter disbelief. It took her a long moment to snap out of it, and then she turned around and started hitting Liam. “Did you hear that?! That’s your parents’ attitude toward me! Just to protect their adopted daughter, they don’t even care if their own grandchild dies! Liam, do you see this clearly? To them, the three of us combined aren’t as important as an adopted kid.” Liam was already upset by my parents’ words, and with Emma throwing fuel on the fire, his anger reached its boiling point. “Mom, Dad, I truly didn’t expect you to be this biased. Don’t forget, I am your biological son.” Facing their seething accusations, I almost laughed out loud. His girlfriend showed zero respect for human life, using an unborn child as a bargaining chip to threaten his parents. And instead of correcting his toxic girlfriend, he was blaming my parents? What kind of twisted moral compass was that? “Liam, your brain is rotting from this relationship. Have you lost all sense of right and wrong? Apologize to Mom and Dad right now.” But Emma was even more frantic than Liam. She lunged forward and screamed at me. “Did Liam say anything that wasn’t a fact?! Why should he apologize? You’re just thick-skinned! You’re thirty years old and still living at home, trying to steal your brother’s house. Let me tell you right now, everything in this house belongs to us. If you know what’s good for you, pack your bags and get the hell out. Otherwise, when we get married, you’ll never be allowed to visit your family again.” Before I even had a chance to retort, my mom slapped Emma hard across the face. “Don’t even mention the fact that you aren’t married to Liam yet. Even if you were, you do not run this house. Who gave you the right to speak like that?!” “You dared to hit me?!” Emma clutched her burning cheek and raised her hand, ready to hit my mom back. My instincts kicked in. I grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, my face dark with warning. “Try touching my mom. See what happens.” Liam rushed forward and pulled her back, and only then did Emma fiercely rip her hand out of my grasp. My dad had reached his limit. He pointed at the door and roared, “Get out… our family does not welcome people like you.” Emma was so enraged she violently knocked over a dining chair, pointing her finger at us as she screamed. “You just wait! You want to play favorites, right? One day I’ll make you taste what it’s like to be treated this way!” With that, ignoring Liam’s attempts to calm her down, she stormed out. Having no other choice, Liam shot us a look of pure hatred and chased after her. My parents didn’t stop them. After all, Emma was pregnant. No matter how twisted her morals were, or how utterly lacking in manners she was, they couldn’t bring themselves to force Liam to break up with her. With all that chaos, no one had the appetite to eat. After comforting my parents, I started cleaning up the mess Emma had left behind. Not long after, I got a text from my boyfriend, Noah. [When does the ugly son-in-law finally get to meet the parents?] My mood instantly brightened. I subconsciously replied: [In a few days!] My grandma’s birthday was coming up in a few days. My family still didn’t know I had a boyfriend. Since the whole family would be gathered together, I figured I would just officially announce it then. It would finally stop my relatives from relentlessly trying to set me up on dates. Seeing that I had finally agreed, Noah was ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to take me out shopping to prepare gifts for my family. Unable to talk him out of it, I agreed. But I never expected that while we were out shopping, I would accidentally bump into Emma. She was walking arm-in-arm with a man. And that man wasn’t Liam. It was her “cousin.” The creepy older man she had set me up with.

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I have a terrible temper. I roast anyone who crosses me, and I’ve made it my personal mission to give corporate America a brutal reality check. Coincidentally, our conglomerate got a new CEO. He shares my last name. Instantly, a rumor spread through the agency that I was the new big boss’s daughter. Hahaha. So don’t even think about texting your auntie for a project proposal at midnight. Got it? 1 My manager was a complete moron. When I first joined the company, the first thing he did was poke around to see who I was connected to. I told him I didn’t pull any strings; I got in by passing the brutal multi-round corporate assessments fair and square. He looked at me like I had just told a joke. “No connections? How the hell did you get a desk here?” I ignored him. What a clown. Later, he snooped around and even tracked down the HR rep who interviewed me. Once he confirmed that I actually got in on pure merit, he started looking down his nose at me. I was the youngest in our department, the only Gen Z hire. He claimed he wanted to “challenge the younger generation,” but in reality, he just dumped all the grunt work on me—the stuff the older, do-nothing lifers in the office refused to do. And this work was mind-numbingly stupid. For example: finalizing the schedule for cross-departmental meetings, and then making me call every single department head one by one to inform them. Right after I finished calling everyone, Greg Patterson—my manager—would casually say, “Oops, let’s change the time.” Then he’d make me call everyone back. And I would be the one getting yelled at by the annoyed department heads. After bowing and apologizing on the phone, I’d walk back to our suite. Before I even pushed the door open, I could hear Greg gloating inside, saying that young hires needed to be broken in and put in their place so they’d be obedient. I laughed out loud. According to the laws of corporate physics, if I get yelled at, you’re not escaping the blast radius either, buddy. I pushed the door open, smiled sweetly, and said, “Did you guys catch the news lately? My dad always says the men who have no control over their own lives love acting like everyone’s father at work. Take care of your own miserable little cubicle first before trying to play daddy to the rest of us.” Greg’s face turned sheet white. I pretended I just noticed him and gasped. “Greg! Why do you look so pale? You should really get a prescription for testosterone or something. Balance yourself out!” A few coworkers stifled laughs, quickly biting their lips and looking down. Whatever. They were scared of Greg. I wasn’t. Before getting this job, I made a killing running a snarky commentary channel on YouTube. I only took this corporate gig to make my grandfather, who was bedridden in the hospital, happy and proud. To say something incredibly rebellious: I had already decided that the day my grandpa passed away, I would quit this place. But before I quit, I planned to march up to Greg’s desk and slap every single document he ever wrote—complete with all his typos and horrific formatting—right across his face. He was an incompetent hack who did nothing but bark orders. A total waste of oxygen. On Friday morning, I handed my project proposal to Greg. He was glued to his phone, aggressively texting either his wife or his mistress. He didn’t read a single word of the proposal. I couldn’t care less. When the clock struck 5:00 PM, I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator. Suddenly, he cared about the work—specifically, my work. “Riley! Are you done with everything? Leaving so early?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been here for my required eight hours. Are you approving overtime pay if I stay?” I walked out without waiting for an answer. Our conglomerate was massive, and hiring was strictly regulated. Greg didn’t have the authority to fire me. He didn’t even have the power to give me a raise or a promotion. So, his entire management strategy consisted of shifting blame, making empty promises, and using verbal manipulation. Before me, two or three junior staff members had quit entirely because of this idiot. When I first started, a guy from the neighboring department warned me that Greg was a nightmare to work with. I told him it was fine. There isn’t a coworker in this world I can’t “get along” with. And if we can’t get along, they become my enemy, and they don’t deserve to be in my airspace anyway. I’ve had plenty of bosses. Some were perfectionists, but as long as we got the job done, I could reason with them. But someone as aggressively stupid as Greg? This was a first. I handed in my proposal on Friday morning. He didn’t say a word. Fast forward to Saturday night. I was at my apartment playing with my cat when he tagged me in the massive, company-wide Slack channel. “@Riley Lawson, there are glaring issues with this proposal.” Wow. The sheer audacity. Our department had its own private group chat. Are you blind? You’re dragging me in the company-wide channel just to show the executives that you’re “working hard” on a Saturday night, right? I put my cat down and cracked my knuckles over my keyboard. “Good evening, Greg! I actually sent that proposal to you on Friday morning. But you seemed pretty busy all afternoon having a very loud phone conversation about how to grill the perfect brisket.” “I reminded you to review it, but you ignored me. I’m so sorry there are mistakes! Please point them out so I can fix them. Oh, and while you’re at it, drop that brisket recipe in the chat! It sounded delicious.” Enter. Send. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour. The company-wide channel was dead silent, but my DMs were blowing up. Coworker A: Riley, you absolute legend! Me: Thank you, I try. [Blushing Emoji] Coworker B: LMAOOOO! Now I want brisket! Me: Tell Greg to drop the recipe. Coworker C: Girl, that was the MAIN channel! Me: Exactly. It’s the MAIN channel, Greg! Greg was completely mute. He didn’t reply in the main chat, and he didn’t even dare DM me. My dad was right. The men who love playing alpha dog are just paper tigers. They bully the weak and cower before the strong. It takes a man to know a man! 2 Monday morning. Greg slammed the printed proposal down on my desk. Smack. His face was the color of a bruised plum, his eyes bulging out of his head. My coworkers held their breath, furiously typing on their keyboards to look busy. Yeah… most people would be intimidated. But this is Riley we’re talking about. Back in my YouTube days, I dealt with internet trolls wilder than anything in a corporate office. You think I’m scared of a guy going through a midlife crisis? Greg glared at me, dead silent, waiting for me to speak first. Always the considerate employee, I asked with deep concern, “Greg, your face is super red. Is your blood pressure spiking? You can’t mess around with high blood pressure at your age. It leads to strokes, and strokes lead to paralysis. If you’re paralyzed, your wife is going to end up pushing your wheelchair while she flirts with the pool boy.” Greg’s face went from plum to a vibrant crimson. He slammed his fist on my desk. “Riley Lawson! Is that how you speak to your manager?!” I immediately feigned panic. “Huh? Greg, I’m just a straightforward person! I don’t mean any harm, I’m just worried about your health! Don’t hide your symptoms from your doctor!” He looked like he wanted to hit me. He literally rolled up his sleeves. My coworkers hesitantly looked over, looking like they were ready to break up a fight. I shrank back in mock terror and asked tentatively, “You’re not going to assault me in an office building exactly three blocks away from the Chicago Police Department headquarters, are you?” Yep, the precinct was right around the corner. Response time would be phenomenal. Greg roared, “Fix your proposal! I spent my whole weekend correcting it! Don’t ever make me clean up your messes again!” I nodded, pretending to be terrified. “Yes, yes, absolutely. I will heed your wise teachings and fix it at the speed of light.” Greg stomped back to his corner office. Before stepping inside, he shot me a death glare. Ugh. When beautiful people glare, it’s fiery and romantic. When ugly men glare, they look like wild boars stuck in a fence. If Greg had just left me alone, I actually would have fixed it immediately. But there was nothing fundamentally wrong with the proposal. He was just nitpicking to assert dominance, demanding the corporate equivalent of drawing a transparent line with red ink. Since he wanted to disgust me, I decided the proposal could wait. Time to look at some handsome celebrities to cleanse my eyes. The number one rule of office slacking: master your keyboard shortcuts. You must be able to switch to an Excel spreadsheet in a fraction of a second. To set the trap, I piously opened the company’s internal intranet homepage and left the top news bulletin running in the background. Then, I opened a pop-culture site and happily scrolled away. Footsteps approached! I unleashed the finger speed of a twenty-something gamer and instantly swapped my tabs. Greg roared with righteous fury, “Riley! What the hell are you looking at?!” I looked up innocently. “Huh? I’m reading the company news portal. Did you want to read it too, boss?” Greg thought he had me cornered. “I saw the reflection in the glass! You’re reading garbage tabloid news!” I silently turned my monitor around so the whole office could see, and slowly read the headline of the intranet article aloud: “Conglomerate Appoints New CEO: William Lawson Takes the Helm.” I looked at him politely. “Greg, are you saying the new CEO is garbage tabloid news?” Greg’s face turned a sickening shade of green. My coworkers’ expressions were absolutely priceless. 3 The rumor mill fired up immediately. Word around the water cooler was that I was William Lawson’s daughter. One day, Jessica from HR came over to subtly interrogate me. I found it hilarious. Sure, the new CEO kept his private family life strictly confidential, but still… “You guys have my background check and emergency contact forms, right?” I asked. Jessica gave me a knowing wink. “Come on, it’s just us, you don’t have to play dumb. The CEO’s daughter is your exact age. And on your HR forms, the ‘Father’ section is left completely blank. We get it. We just didn’t expect a nepo baby to be so low-key… well, I guess you’re not that low-key, hahaha. We should have known! With an attitude like yours, you definitely have someone powerful backing you.” Yep. My father, who is currently resting in peace in the cemetery, is backing me. I’ve got the ghosts of my ancestors on my side. Are you scared yet? I told my best friend about this over drinks. She laughed so hard she choked. “Did you clarify things?” I took a sip of my martini. “I basically inherited a billionaire work-dad for free, and no one actually confronted me directly. Would you clarify it?” She slammed her glass down. “Clarify my ass. Only an idiot would correct them.” Exactly. The rumor spread like wildfire. With my new “cheap dad” in play, my work life became unexpectedly smooth. Every department head was suddenly incredibly polite to me. If I stared at them for more than two seconds, they started sweating. Except for Greg. During the week the rumor peaked, Greg was away on a business trip. I don’t know if his social standing was just that terrible or if people were intentionally trying to screw him over, but absolutely no one told him about the “Riley is the CEO’s daughter” theory. He was completely in the dark. When he came back, he was as arrogant and obnoxious as ever. He walked into the office, didn’t even sit down, and started screaming. “I leave for one week, and the office looks like a dump! Do you people not know how to clean? Do you expect me to do it?” After venting his weird midlife-crisis rage, his eyes darted around and locked onto me. “Riley, go mop the floor and Windex the glass partitions.” Was he actually insane? We had a dedicated janitorial staff that cleaned the building every night. Plus, we were on the 30th floor. Who the hell washes the outside windows? If you want me to fall to my death, just say it directly. I sat in silence for two seconds. Suddenly, Brenda, a senior woman in our office, shot up from her chair. “I’ll do it! Riley, you focus on your work!” I stared at her in shock. Brenda used to be Greg’s number one lackey. Whenever us younger hires got tortured, she played deaf and blind. But today… she clearly realized that my metaphorical thighs were much thicker than Greg’s, so she was jumping ship to my side. Greg was baffled. “Brenda, you don’t need to cover for them. You work hard enough taking care of your kids. Take a rest.” Oh right. Brenda was the one who constantly complained about how hard it was to be a mom, using it as an excuse to dump her actual corporate workload onto the juniors. She spent her days in the office knitting sweaters and doing her kids’ arts and crafts homework. Watching her had honestly made me fear marriage and childbirth. Brenda waved her hands frantically. “I’m not tired at all! It’s the young kids who are tired from working all the time! Hahaha, I’ll go get the mop.” She practically sprinted out to find a bucket. Um… ma’am, I’m actually not tired at all, because I don’t do overtime. Greg watched her leave in utter confusion. When he caught me staring at him, he quickly adjusted his expression and snapped at me. “Young people need to have some initiative! You shouldn’t have to wait for management to tell you what to do! How did your parents even raise you?!” The moment those words left his mouth, the temperature in the office dropped to absolute zero. Brenda had just walked back in with a mop. Hearing that, she dropped the bucket in sheer terror and stammered, “Oh my god, Greg, you really shouldn’t say things like that.” Greg puffed out his chest. “I said what I said! So what? Dragons beget dragons, mice beget mice. In my opinion, her attitude is a direct reflection of her parents!” Seeing the sheer panic in Brenda’s eyes, I nodded in profound realization. “Greg, that makes perfect sense! No wonder you look like a giant rat!” … Greg was genuinely awful. He couldn’t beat me in an argument, so he resorted to sabotage. Later that day, he told me to take a report upstairs to Mr. Davis, a senior director. I actually needed to talk to Mr. Davis about something else anyway, so I grabbed the folder and headed to the elevators. On the way up, I bumped into Mr. Davis’s secretary. When she heard Greg sent me, her eyes went wide. “He sent you?” “Yeah, why?” The secretary leaned in and whispered frantically, “Mr. Davis is furious right now. Your department submitted a summary report that is completely botched. We have representatives from our sister companies visiting today, and Mr. Davis is going to rip whoever walks through that door to shreds.” I was stunned. “Which report?” She gave me a brief description, and I instantly knew what was happening. That shameless rat Greg. It was the garbage report he wrote himself while he was on his business trip. To prevent us from “stealing his credit,” he refused to let any of us review it and submitted it directly to the director. Haha. So when there’s glory, you hoard it. But when there’s a grenade, you throw me on top of it? I don’t think so. The secretary gave me a sympathetic look. “Go back down. Tell Greg you’re busy and make him bring it up himself. What’s he going to do, fire you?” A wicked idea formed in my head. I smiled brightly. “No way, I have to go. If I don’t, who’s going to speak up for our dear Greg?” 4 The moment I pushed the door open, a heavy folder came flying at my head, accompanied by a furious roar. “Look at the garbage you submitted!” Thankfully, I have good reflexes. I dodged it, and the folder smacked loudly against the wall. The secretary nervously picked it up and whispered, “Mr. Davis, it’s Riley Lawson.” Mr. Davis looked up. When he saw it was me, his tone instantly changed. He tried to quickly swap his furious scowl for a polite smile, but his facial muscles spasmed awkwardly in the process. “Oh, Riley! Uh, well… the proposal your department submitted has some, um, issues.” The visiting executives sitting on his couches drinking espresso looked at each other in confusion. They clearly didn’t understand why the ferocious Mr. Davis had suddenly turned into a polite golden retriever. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the visitors texting someone under the table: William Lawson. The other visitor saw the text and his eyes widened in sudden realization. I wanted to laugh so badly. Is this what it feels like to ride the CEO’s coattails? It’s incredible. Facing Mr. Davis’s strained, twisting smile, I spoke with the utmost sincerity. “Mr. Davis, no one else in our department has even seen this proposal. Greg wrote it entirely by himself during his business trip. We offered to proofread it for him, but he insisted on submitting it directly to you. So…” Mr. Davis, likely recalling the rumors of how I was being bullied in the lower ranks, understood the assignment immediately. He slammed his hand on his desk phone, hit the intercom, and bellowed, “Greg Patterson! Get your ass up here right now!” Greg scurried up. The moment he walked through the door, he tried to take control of the narrative. “Mr. Davis, please don’t be angry! The young hires in our department are so careless. I will discipline her the second we get back to our desks!” You son of a bitch. You walk into the room and immediately throw your auntie under the bus? I instantly put on my best ‘wronged victim’ face. “Greg… I haven’t even seen this report…” Greg yelled at me, “Riley, your work ethic is slipping! You didn’t even bother to review the departmental report, and you have the nerve to make excuses? Are you even earning your paycheck?” My dad pays your entire bloodline’s paycheck, buddy. The harder I cursed him in my head, the more pathetic and teary my face looked. “But Greg… you’re the primary author of this report…” Before he could react, I took two quick steps forward, grabbed the report from the secretary, and flipped it open on Mr. Davis’s desk. Right there on the third page, printed in bold, was Greg Patterson’s name. Note: Only Greg’s name. Greg panicked and opened his mouth to yell at me again. Mr. Davis slammed his hand on the desk. “Enough! Look where you are! You’re embarrassing us in front of our guests!” The visiting executives, who had been enjoying the drama while sipping their espresso, immediately straightened their ties and put on serious, professional faces. I could read their minds perfectly: What? Who doesn’t love workplace drama? Corporate life is a grind, let us enjoy the circus! Sweat poured down Greg’s forehead. “Mr. Davis, please let me explain…” Mr. Davis snatched the folder from my hand and shoved it hard against Greg’s chest. “The aggregated data is completely wrong! You didn’t even separate the incremental assets from the base inventory! You’re a department head, and this is the trash you produce? You’ve been coasting in your position for far too long!” That set the tone. It wasn’t just a critique of the report; it was a direct attack on Greg’s entire work ethic and job security. Fly high, Greg. Carry your own garbage. Greg’s face sagged. His voice went completely soft. “Mr. Davis, I apologize. I will rewrite it immediately.” Mr. Davis, still fuming, didn’t even look at him. “Get out!” Greg walked out looking like a beaten dog. I followed behind him, looking meek and submissive, while internally doing cartwheels. In the elevator, it was just the two of us. He dropped the pathetic act instantly and glared at me with venom. “Riley, you’re pretty ruthless, aren’t you? You think you’re so clever.” Is this guy brain-dead? I gave him a polite smile. “I’m not clever at all, Greg. After all, I didn’t write the report. You’re the truly clever one—trying to make a junior employee take the fall for your incompetence. A grown man like you, you should be proud.” Greg turned fully toward me, furious. “So what if I made you take the hit? Everyone goes through it! Young people need to be yelled at to build character and mental resilience!” Idiot. An absolute idiot. I replied softly, “I don’t know if getting yelled at builds character when you’re young. But looking at you, all those years of swallowing insults clearly just made you mentally unhinged.” My floor arrived. I stepped forward to leave. Just as the doors began to open, Greg violently mashed the ‘Close Door’ button and screamed, “Riley, shut your filthy mouth!” I pointed up at the security camera in the corner of the elevator. “Greg, language. We’re trying to foster a professional corporate environment here. Everyone has a role to play.” The doors slid open. A crowd of people was waiting for the elevator. They had clearly heard Greg screaming through the doors. Their expressions were a kaleidoscope of shock and gossip. I mentally reviewed my own dialogue. Perfect. I sounded like an upstanding, highly professional corporate citizen. Hehe. 5 Why had no one told Greg the rumor about me? I was genuinely puzzled. Was he really that universally hated? My best friend explained it to me over drinks. “Isn’t it obvious? Based on your stories, who would actually want to talk to him? Everyone hates him. They’re hoping he digs his own grave, offends the CEO’s daughter, and gets fired so they can get a normal manager.” I didn’t have the actual power to fire him, unfortunately. But Greg definitely wanted to fire me. A few days later, he somehow procured a biometric fingerprint time clock and announced that our department—and only our department—would be strictly clocking in and out. He claimed that the total hours tracked by the machine would be the sole basis for our end-of-year performance bonuses. Haha. Moron. HR hadn’t issued any such policy. What right did he have? But since I honestly didn’t care about a few hundred extra dollars in my bonus, I ignored him. The machine was obviously targeted at me, since I refused to do unpaid overtime. But Brenda was the first one to snap. Because she had to drop her two kids off at schools on opposite sides of the city, she was chronically five to ten minutes late every single day. Consequently, just a few days after the fingerprint scanner was installed, the power cord mysteriously snapped. Greg was furious. “Who did this?! Who broke it?!” Brenda casually filed her nails. “Probably chewed up by mice?” Greg exploded. “There are no mice in a Class-A corporate high-rise!” I smiled. “Rats get pretty bold during the day, so it makes sense they’d come out to grind their teeth at night.” Greg stared at me, opening his mouth, but surprisingly didn’t say anything. He just went back to inspecting the frayed cord. Sigh. He was so uncultured. He didn’t even understand I was calling him a rat. It’s lonely at the top. That afternoon, Jessica from HR invited me to lunch. Her department always had the best gossip, so I happily took my salad over to their table. To my surprise, the VP of Human Resources—a guy you rarely saw mingling with the plebs—walked over and sat at our table. Jessica immediately looked terrified and stopped chewing. I was completely chill. He wasn’t my boss. The VP asked me very warmly how I was adjusting to the company. Then he mentioned that the conglomerate was undergoing massive structural reforms, and asked if I had any “suggestions” regarding HR policies. He looked at me like a royal eunuch trying to divine the Emperor’s true intentions. Wow. So this is what it feels like to be part of the inner circle? Succession really nailed the corporate sycophant dynamic. If I didn’t use this opportunity to drop a metaphorical piano on Greg’s head, I’d be wasting my golden ticket. I pretended to think deeply, then spoke slowly. “I do have one curiosity… when did our company introduce fingerprint time clocks?” The VP immediately shot a sharp look at Jessica. “We did?” Jessica looked like she was about to cry. “No, sir! It’s just Riley’s department. Greg bought a machine himself and mandated it. Department heads do have a certain level of discretionary authority, so we didn’t feel we could intervene.” The VP poked at his salad with his fork, saying nothing. I smiled sweetly. “Discretionary authority is a wonderful thing! But you know… today he installs a time clock. Tomorrow, another manager installs their own system. If every department creates its own unique evaluation metrics, what do we even need an HR department for? The relevance of HR really starts to… plummet.” His fork stopped moving completely. I threw some more fuel on the fire. “We have a lot of VIP hires here. Daughters, sons, relatives of important people. If they all start getting written up by rogue time clocks, they won’t blame Greg. They’ll complain to their connections that HR is targeting them. You’ll be the one taking the fall, sir.” The VP might not care about the lives of entry-level employees, but he absolutely cared about his own turf. If HR’s relevance dropped, his personal power dropped. And if the nepo babies complained to the C-suite, he’d be the one getting fired. Corporate survival 101. Since Greg loved making me read Machiavelli and corporate strategy books to write his reports, I was putting that theory into practice. Using executive paranoia to crush middle management is like dropping a nuke on an anthill. Upon hearing this, the VP abandoned his lunch entirely. He threw his napkin down and said, “Riley, you make an excellent point. We are one unified company, and we must operate under one unified system. I am going to have a chat with Greg right now.” He marched off with righteous fury. I watched his retreating figure, then looked down at his plate. A perfectly cooked, untouched filet mignon. Corporate executives are crazy. They get so caught up in power struggles they forget to eat their steak? You could have at least given it to me! 6 Later that afternoon, a contract electrician came up to replace the cord on the time clock. Greg, already in a foul mood after getting chewed out by HR, snapped at the guy. “Stop working on it! Just leave it. Dammit.” His “dammit” was aimed at the VP of HR. They had gotten into a screaming match in the hallway that everyone heard. So, the poor electrician became his punching bag. But here was the problem: the building’s electricians were external contractors. In other words, Greg had zero authority over him. The electrician dropped his tool bag, his face hardening. “You called dispatch four times crying about this wire, and I skipped my lunch to come fix it for you. Who the hell are you cursing at? Watch your mouth.” If they had been alone, Greg probably would have apologized and backed down. But all of us junior employees were watching. Greg felt his fragile masculinity was at stake. “So what? What if I did curse? Fixing things is your job, isn’t it? I’m the client! I can say whatever I want!” Idiot. An absolute, colossal idiot. The electrician was a no-nonsense blue-collar guy. He didn’t say a word. He just picked up his heavy canvas tool bag and swung it directly at Greg’s face. Whack. Holy shit. Holy shit. Greg’s face turned into a bloody pulp instantly. A full-blown brawl erupted. Worried the electrician might get in trouble for defending himself, I quickly signaled the two guys in our office to step in and pull them apart. I grabbed a push broom, shoved myself between them, and started swinging wildly to “break up the fight.” Naturally, my wild swings were exclusively landing on Greg. I’m a very loyal person, and Greg was the enemy. The electrician was a guy who worked with his hands all day. He was infinitely stronger than Greg and was basically beating him like a rented mule. And Greg still had the nerve to yell, “Let me at him! Don’t hold me back!” Bro, if we weren’t holding him back, you would be dead on the carpet right now. Have some self-awareness. Hearing Greg’s taunts, the electrician broke free and lunged forward again. Greg panicked. He blindly grabbed a heavy glass paperweight from his desk to defend himself, but it slipped from his sweaty hands— Crash. It slammed directly into my shin. Motherfucker. My mom always warned me to stand back when watching a fight. She was so right. I clutched my leg and instantly began wailing, taking full advantage of the situation. Brenda screamed at the top of her lungs, “Stop fighting! Riley is hurt! Her leg!” The electrician, realizing I was the one who had secretly helped him hit Greg with the broom, immediately backed off and stood down. Greg was thrilled to have an excuse to stop getting beaten up. He scrambled over, trying to play the concerned boss. “Riley! Are you okay?” I unleashed a cry worthy of an Oscar. “It hurts so much! Greg, what is wrong with you today?! Why did you provoke the electrician, and why did you attack me?!” I had to establish his guilt on the record immediately so the electrician wouldn’t take the blame. Everyone in the office stared at Greg. He looked incredibly guilty. “I didn’t do it on purpose…” I drowned him out with a theatrical wail. “Call an ambulance! I think my leg is shattered!”

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My childhood best friend carried the transfer student to the campus infirmary, leaving bleeding me behind. I won the game, but I lost him. Afterward, he apologized to me, and I just smiled and said it didn’t matter. Because I didn’t love him anymore. If everything went according to plan, he would never see me again in this lifetime. Years later, he hiked seven treacherous mountain trails on foot, but he truly couldn’t find the girl he had carelessly thrown away. 1 The atmosphere at the track and field meet was electric. When Liam ran toward me, my mind went blank for a second, and then my entire heart started to tremble. We had been giving each other the silent treatment for almost two weeks. We were childhood sweethearts who grew up together. We shared the same crib as babies and basically shared the same wardrobe as toddlers. From the moment we could babble, whether we were playing house or getting into fights with other kids on the playground, we were always on the same team. We were inseparable. Our relationship was so intertwined that our parents naturally treated us like an engaged couple. They would get together for drinks and joke that once we got married, they’d hand the family businesses over to us and happily travel the globe. To prepare for this grand retirement, our mothers had already mapped out their cross-country RV routes and European cruises. Everyone thought we would end up together. Even I thought so. So, when we had our huge fight two weeks ago, I expected him to eventually cave and apologize like he always did. I never imagined he would actually ignore me for fourteen straight days. On the sun-baked turf of the football field, I watched the boy running toward me. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his usually calm face was etched with frantic anxiety. It was the first time I had ever seen him look so panicked. The rough rubber of the track dug painfully into my scraped calf. Thinking of our two-week cold war, I felt a surge of grievance. I reached my hands out toward him. “Carry me…” To the nurse. Before I could finish my sentence, Liam bent down, scooped up the transfer student, Maya, who had fallen next to me, and sprinted toward the campus clinic. He didn’t even spare me a single glance. I froze in place, my outstretched hands stiff in the air. The bleachers were roaring with cheering students, but all I could hear was a ringing in my ears. The boy I had loved for over a decade had just carried away another injured girl. 2 Maya was a new transfer student this semester. She was a straight-A student, polite, and universally liked. She aced every AP class she took, and her reputation as a sweet, helpful girl was known by everyone. More importantly, she was beautiful. Her only “flaws” were that she came from a low-income neighborhood and was a bit painfully introverted. When Maya first transferred, Liam and I still shared a desk in homeroom. She was seated directly behind us. I always liked pretty, hardworking girls. I was the one who showed her around campus, introduced her to people, encouraged her to run for student council, and even chased away the creepy guys who tried to harass her at the bus stop. Back then, Liam used to get jealous of how much attention I gave Maya. “People can’t just have zero friends forever, can they?” I would say, poking him in the spine while riding on the back of his bicycle. “When I get my period at school and forget a tampon, I can’t exactly ask you to bring me one, can I? You can’t help me pick out bra sizes either. Relax, you’ll always be my absolute favorite person in the world.” In my heart, Liam was my boyfriend. Maya was just a good friend. And Liam had genuinely cared for me once. When I got my first period, I thought I was dying. He was the one who sprinted to the pharmacy, his face burning red, to buy me pads. I was an extrovert, impulsive and hot-headed, which meant I accidentally offended people a lot. Every single time, he was the one who smoothed things over for me. He used to affectionately ruffle my hair and tease me, saying my temper was so explosive that no guy would ever want to marry me when I grew up. “Chloe, maybe if you beg me, I’ll agree to be your boyfriend.” 3 I don’t know exactly when Liam and Maya became so close. I didn’t even notice when the back of his bicycle stopped being my reserved seat, or when we stopped walking to the parking lot together after the final bell. Maya struggled with her French pronunciation, so he stayed after school to tutor her. Maya’s mom got sick, so he offered to drive them to the hospital. Without me realizing it, the roles reversed. I was no longer the one making him jealous; I became the one quietly staring at his back. No, I was staring at their backs. One day, Maya tapped me on the shoulder and asked timidly, “Chloe, is it okay if we switch seats? You’re a bit too tall, and I can’t see the whiteboard from back here.” I didn’t say a word. I just looked at Liam. His eyes gave away nothing. I noticed his hair was cut a little shorter than usual, and Maya had recently changed her hairstyle too. On the day we swapped seats, Liam was the one who helped Maya move her heavy desk. As I carried my things away from him, he looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he swallowed his words. Liam wasn’t much of a talker, and Maya was quiet too. Yet, whenever Maya asked him a question, he would patiently explain the answer, even handing over his perfectly organized study notes to her. Sometimes, when Maya’s test scores improved, I would catch him secretly smiling. It felt like I was watching a coming-of-age romance movie play out right in front of me, and I wasn’t the female lead. I drifted further and further away from Liam, to the point where my jealousy mutated into a deep dislike for Maya. During a volleyball match in Gym class, Maya’s team happened to play against mine. Maya had transferred from an underfunded public school where they rarely played structured sports. For the first time in my life, a vicious competitiveness flared up inside me. I spiked the ball mercilessly. She couldn’t receive a single one. Her team was getting crushed, and during one dive, she tripped and scraped her knee on the hardwood floor. “Chloe, did I do something to offend you?” With everyone watching, Maya looked at me with tearful, pitiful eyes. “I thought of you as my best friend. I know your family is rich and powerful, but I’ve never asked you for anything. Why are you targeting me?” The other students started whispering, wondering what Maya could have possibly done to earn my wrath. I was the star of the volleyball team, but I had never humiliated an opponent like this before. That was exactly when Liam walked into the gym. He gently guided Maya to the bleachers, then picked up the volleyball. The smirk on his lips was one I knew intimately—it was his calculating, game-on smile. “Maya isn’t great at this. Let me play against you.” And for the rest of the period, he absolutely destroyed me on the court. 4 The track meet was still roaring outside. I limped back to our empty classroom. The only other person there was Asher Hayes, the notorious bad boy of our grade, who was sleeping at his desk because he had injured himself and skipped the events. Hearing me walk in, Asher cracked an eye open. “Ooh, trouble in childhood-sweetheart paradise?” I ignored him, staring at the two desks in the front row. They were perfectly aligned, their textbooks stacked neatly. They looked like a matched set. I had taken off my sneaker. The scrape on my calf ran all the way down to the top of my foot, and blood was smeared everywhere. Because I didn’t want to see Liam and Maya at the clinic, I had refused to go get it treated. I lowered my head and blew on the wound. Without warning, a tear dropped directly onto the raw skin. The boy I had loved for over a decade had abandoned me today. When Liam finally walked into the classroom, I had just finished swabbing my leg with iodine. He stared at my bloody leg, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was only just now realizing I had been hurt. I saw his lips part several times, but not a single word came out. It wasn’t until I slung my backpack over my shoulder to leave that he reached out and grabbed the strap. “Why didn’t you go to the nurse?” He looked at me, exasperated. “Stop throwing a tantrum. Maya feels incredibly guilty. Because you didn’t go to the clinic, she feels like she did something wrong to you.” “Wow, she’s such a saint.” My smile must have been dripping with sarcasm, because Liam’s face darkened with displeasure. I yanked my backpack strap out of his grip. Suddenly remembering something, I turned back around, reached into my desk, and pulled out a small, gold-stamped box. I thought back to the volleyball match. Because I couldn’t beat him, I had ultimately dove too hard and skinned my own knees. Back then, we hadn’t started our silent treatment yet. He was the one who took me to the nurse. While bandaging me, he had asked why I hated Maya. “I know you. You’ve never been overly competitive,” he had said. “Even if you want your team to win, you never spike the ball so viciously that the other person can’t even touch it.” “Chloe, Maya’s home life is a mess. We should be more forgiving of her.” My heart felt numb. I couldn’t even recall the sting of his words from that day. But in this moment, I suddenly felt the urge to let go. I shoved the gold-stamped box into Liam’s chest. I wanted to smile, but my facial muscles wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m taking next week off. Happy early birthday.” I had never missed Liam’s birthday in my entire life. A flash of genuine panic crossed Liam’s face. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Chloe, what are you doing? You promised…” “Liam, that was in the past.” In the past, he had also promised that if anyone else ever tried to marry me, he would break their legs. 5 I wasn’t a girl with massive, world-changing ambitions. My family was wealthy, my parents were liberal, and they didn’t put a ton of pressure on me. The only real plan I ever had for my life was to study hard, get into Stanford with Liam, take over my parents’ company, and fulfill their dream of traveling the world. I never imagined a future without Liam. When my dad heard I wanted to overhaul my college applications, he was so shocked he thought I had a fever and almost dragged me to the ER. “There’s no deep reason, Dad. I just don’t like the West Coast anymore. I want to apply to the East Coast.” Liam was the one obsessed with staying in California for Bio-Engineering. Not me. As long as I wasn’t breaking the law, my parents let me do whatever I wanted. Changing my college list was a minor blip to them. That night, I was already in bed when someone knocked on my door. Assuming it was my parents, I called out, “Come in.” I turned around to find Liam standing by my bed, his face pale and serious. “You’re still coming to my birthday party, right?” He sounded uncertain. He tried to sit in his usual spot on my favorite armchair, but he clearly felt the icy hostility radiating from me. “Does it matter if I go? It’s just the usual crowd. Nothing special.” I flicked on the bedside lamp, and the light revealed a nasty bruise on Liam’s cheekbone. I wanted to ask what happened, but the words felt stuck in my throat. As he had pulled closer to Maya, I had naturally been pushed away. Liam didn’t expect me to be so cold. “You aren’t going to ask what happened?” “It’s about Maya, isn’t it?” I didn’t need to ask. He nodded. “Her parents’ marriage is toxic. Her dad is an alcoholic with a gambling problem. When I went over to drop something off, they were fighting. I lost my temper and got into a fistfight with her dad.” “And why are you telling me this?” “If possible, I hope you stop targeting her at school. Maya is truly pitiful. Compared to you, she doesn’t even have a safe home to go to…” I picked up the tube of ointment he had tried to hand me and tossed it straight into the trash can. I let out a dry laugh. “Listening to you, it sounds like I’m the cause of all her misery. Don’t forget, when those creeps from the public school harassed her at the bus stop, I was the one who stood up for her.” That incident was the actual catalyst for our cold war. After the volleyball game, I ignored Maya completely. She relentlessly tried to apologize, but I coldly ripped up her apology letter and threw it away. Liam told me I had crossed a line. But I didn’t think I was wrong. I disliked her. I disliked her a lot. Upset over the torn letter, Maya wandered off campus alone and got cornered in an alley by some sketchy dropouts. Without thinking, I sprinted in to help her. Liam was right behind me. But to my shock, I watched him pull Maya into his arms, taking the hit from a baseball bat that was meant for her. And me? Liam grabbed Maya’s hand and bolted, leaving me surrounded by the dropouts. In a panic, I smashed the cash register of a nearby convenience store to trigger the alarm, which ended up getting me hauled into the police station. Just like Liam explained later: I had taken private self-defense classes since I was a kid. I knew how to protect myself better than Maya did. That was how Liam and I fell out. 6 I really didn’t go to Liam’s birthday party. Maya did. She wore the designer dress I had gifted her on her first week of school. In the photos posted by our classmates, Liam stood in the center of the crowd. Maya was leaning softly against his shoulder, her cheeks flushed, smiling gracefully, surrounded by everyone like a princess. Our mutual friends hadn’t yet realized the tectonic shift between Liam and me. Later that night, Liam’s mom came over to my house. “I know you must be sick since you missed the party, sweetie. Are you feeling any better?” My parents were out of town on business, so our housekeeper and I hosted her. Liam’s parents treated me like gold, especially his mom. Every year for Liam’s birthday, she would prepare two gifts: one for him, and one for me. “This year, I bought you two pairs of heels. Our Chloe is a grown woman now; it’s time to start building your stiletto collection.” Liam had been right about one thing. I grew up surrounded by love. Whether it was my parents or his, I was cherished. I wasn’t lacking money, and I wasn’t lacking love. But I also knew clearly that I owed Maya absolutely nothing. Her unfortunate life had nothing to do with me. “Thank you,” I hugged his mom affectionately, just like always. “When I take over the company, I’ll send you and my mom on that round-the-world cruise you’ve always wanted.” No matter what happened between Liam and me, I would always be grateful for his parents. I had always been at the top of my class. When midterms rolled around, my rank jumped up even higher. Liam and Maya still sat in front of me. The only difference was that Liam occasionally turned around to talk to me. “Chloe, want to walk home together after school?” It had been a very, very long time since we walked home together. Before I could answer, Maya chimed in with a sweet smile. “You should, Chloe. The street near the school is under construction, and there have been some muggings lately. It’s too dangerous for you to walk alone. I specifically told Liam to make sure you got home safe.” I never thought the day would come when my childhood best friend offering to walk me home would be a favor granted by another girl. I briskly shoved my books into my bag. “No thanks. My driver is picking me up.” I rejected their “charity,” but when the final bell rang, Liam and Maya were standing by the school gates, looking determined to escort me. I tried to walk past them, but Maya grabbed my arm. “Chloe, I know you’re mad at me. I thought about it a lot, and I realize Liam and I have been too close lately. We neglected you, and that’s why you’re upset. Don’t worry, I’m giving Liam back to you right now.” I honestly didn’t understand why she was crying. I hadn’t done anything, but she was sobbing like her heart was shattered. My mom used to say that because I grew up shielded by money, there was a lot of manipulative malice in the world I didn’t understand. “Liam is a living, breathing human being, not a toy we trade back and forth. He can hang out with whoever he wants. Stop acting like I’m bullying you.” I yanked my arm out of her grip. In her dramatic flailing, she lost her balance and fell to the pavement. 7 Liam and I got into another explosive fight. “Just apologize to her. Please, I’m begging you.” It was the first time I had ever heard Liam speak so low and desperately to anyone. I was a wealthy heiress, but wasn’t he a privileged rich kid too? “Maya has it so hard. After school, she has to work shifts to support her mom. She’s the exact same age as us, but she has to fight just to survive. I’m begging you. You have everything. Just say sorry. She constantly feels guilty around you.” I just stared at him coldly. In that moment, it hit me clearer than ever. Liam and I had never actually spoken the words “I love you.” Everyone just assumed we’d get married, but technically, we weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. I kicked Liam out of my house. I stewed in my room for a long time, until I got an email notification. I had been officially accepted into Columbia University’s undergraduate business program for the fall. Getting that definitive answer extinguished a lot of my anger. I realized that because I spent all my time with Liam, I didn’t actually have any other close friends. I drove alone to a local barbecue joint and ordered a massive platter of ribs and brisket to celebrate. “Tsk. Where’s the golden boy?” It was the kid who slept through every class: Asher Hayes. “If you’re trying to pick a fight while I’m alone, I suggest you rethink it.” I took a bite of my ribs, barely glancing at him. “Or I won’t hesitate to complain to your dad.” My family’s backing meant I feared absolutely no one. Including Asher. Asher was the exact opposite of Liam. Liam and I were the obedient golden children. We competed for first place, never caused trouble, and were the pride of our social circles. Asher was a famous delinquent. He skipped class, had terrible grades, and rumor had it he put a guy in the hospital a few years ago. His billionaire father had to pull massive strings just to keep him out of juvie. “You make me sound like a monster.” Asher casually reached over and grabbed one of my ribs. “Princess, can’t you just accept that I saw a classmate sitting alone in a sketchy neighborhood and came over to protect you?” 8 I thought Asher had lost his mind. Out of nowhere, he demanded to be my desk-mate, claiming that sitting next to the valedictorian would miraculously cure his bad grades. It was true that Liam had been so distracted by Maya’s drama that he had dropped out of the top ten, while my grip on first place was ironclad. To his credit, Asher didn’t actually drag me down. He spent every class either sleeping or silently playing games on his phone under the desk. He never participated in group projects. During study hall, I slammed a group worksheet down in front of him. “You better finish your half of this, or you can crawl back to whatever dark corner of the classroom you came from.” I had zero interest in reforming my classmates. The only person I ever cared enough to manage was currently busy managing someone else. Asher definitely didn’t need my pity. Asher looked at me like I had just told a hilarious joke. He propped his head up on his hand and smirked. “Princess, do you think you own the school? You make me move my desk, now you’re forcing me to do homework? Is this your version of bullying?” I rolled my eyes, annoyed. I refused to let my parents see my group project average drag down my GPA. Under my withering glare, Asher rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Fine. It’s just a few questions. I’ll do it.” “Seriously, Princess, you’re the sole heir to a massive company. Why do you work so hard? You’re already going to inherit the earth. Leave some oxygen for the rest of us trust-fund kids.” I ignored him, keeping my head down and focusing on my AP Calculus homework. Suddenly, I felt eyes on me. I looked up and met Liam’s gaze from the front row. Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke. Strangely enough, I was gradually losing interest in what Liam did. I rarely checked to see what he and Maya were doing during class anymore. “You don’t need to help me anymore.” Maya’s voice broke his stare. “My mom was discharged from the hospital. She’s recovering well, so I don’t need to work as many shifts at the diner. You don’t have to go either.” With Liam’s financial help, Maya’s mom had quit her terrible job and opened a small diner. She had collapsed from exhaustion recently, so Liam and Maya had been working there after school. Liam looked at Maya with that eternal, gentle warmth. “Okay.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “425833”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I spent two years desperately trying to win over Julian—only for him to mistakenly believe I was bullying his precious childhood sweetheart. He smiled as he crushed his cigarette out on the palm of my hand. Later, while I was on my period, he pushed me into the freezing swimming pool, holding my head underwater so I couldn’t breathe. Finally, the System allowed me to change my target. I stopped paying any attention to Julian. But then, like a rabid dog, he cornered me, his eyes bloodshot, desperately trying to kiss me. Only to be grabbed by his collar and yanked away by another man a second later. The man smiled lazily. “Julian, are you really trying to steal your older brother’s girlfriend?” That’s right. My new target was Julian’s older brother. The actual mastermind behind the Sterling family empire. 1 Amidst the roaring laughter of the crowd, I struggled to push myself up on the edge of the pool, trying to climb out. But the moment my upper body broke the surface, the mocking cheers grew louder. I instinctively looked up. The boys standing at the edge of the pool dragged their eyes down my face, staring pointedly at my chest. The summer uniform fabric was thin and semi-transparent when wet… I realized what was happening immediately. But before I could move, a hand reached out, grabbed the back of my head, and forcefully shoved me back underwater. “Get the hell out of here, all of you!” Julian’s hand was still holding me down; his yell was directed at the crowd. When I finally broke the surface again, only Julian was left standing by the pool. “Cough! Cough!” I choked up a few mouthfuls of chlorinated water. Julian stood there, hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking down at me like I was trash. A cold, sinister smirk hung on his lips. “Are you disgusting or what?” The moment my hands grabbed the edge of the pool again, he kicked them away. He crouched down, gripping my chin tightly and forcing me to look at him. “Everyone knows I like Maya, yet you still follow me around every single day.” His smile widened, turning cruel as he dragged out his words. “How cheap are you, Chloe?” “Do you really like me that much?” I stayed silent, unsure of how to answer. If this were any other day, I would have just said “Yes” to keep pushing the mission forward. But today, the freezing water combined with my terrible period cramps made the pain so agonizing I couldn’t even make a sound. Seeing that I wasn’t answering, the smile slowly faded from Julian’s face. He threw my chin away in disgust. After giving me one last long, dark look, he turned and walked away. I finally managed to drag myself out of the pool. I took two steps before my heavy, freezing body gave out, and I collapsed into unconsciousness. 2 When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. The school security guard had found me passed out and called an ambulance. The System finally seemed to take pity on me. “Would you like to change your target?” I licked my pale, dry lips. “Yes.” “The mission to capture Julian Sterling has failed. This is your final opportunity,” the System said. I nodded calmly. If I kept tangling with Julian, I wouldn’t even get to use my final opportunity. He would torture me to death first. After a brief pause, the System spoke again, sounding unusually hesitant. “This time, your target is… Silas Sterling.” I didn’t understand why the System sounded so awkward. Silas Sterling. The 27-year-old CEO and absolute dictator of the Sterling Group, the largest conglomerate in the city. It was just a coincidence that he shared a last name with Julian. Maybe the System had watched me get tortured so brutally by Julian that it actually grew a conscience. “The time limit for this mission has been extended. We are giving you enough time to prepare for your college entrance exams. You are allowed to begin the mission after graduation.” I breathed a sigh of relief, smiling a genuine smile for the first time in ages. “Thanks.” In my original world, because of certain circumstances, I never got the chance to take my college entrance exams. At least this would make up for my biggest regret. 3 When school started on Monday, I showed up at the door of Julian’s classroom holding a small cake. Everyone gave me a knowing look. Someone even shouted out, “Hey Julian, your biggest fan is here to deliver cake again!” Through the glass window, I saw Julian slouching lazily in his chair. He let out a contemptuous scoff. “She thinks I want it just because she brought it?” “Tell her to get lost.” I pressed my lips together and walked up to the desk closest to the door. “Could you do me a favor and give this to your class president?” I asked, handing over the cake. Instantly, the entire classroom went dead silent. Then, every single head swiveled toward Julian, whose face had instantly darkened like a thunderstorm. It seemed everyone was shocked to realize I wasn’t there for him. The girl sitting in the front row stammered a “sure” and placed the cake on the empty desk belonging to the class president. The security guard told me a male student had been the first to spot me unconscious. I found out later it was the president of Julian’s class. It was only right that I brought something to thank him today. Ignoring the weird stares from the class and the death glare Julian was shooting me, I thanked the girl and turned to leave. I had barely taken one step when a massive crash echoed behind me. I paused, instinctively looking back. Julian, who had been sitting at his own desk, had somehow already walked over to the class president’s desk. He had kicked the desk over. The cake had hit the floor, completely smashed. Julian stared at me through the crowd, offering a provocative, unapologetic smirk. “Oops. Slipped and dropped your cake. What are you gonna do about it?” I wanted to shove his head into the ruined cake. But Julian was absolutely not someone I could afford to mess with right now. Rumor had it his father was the biggest shareholder of the school board. I turned my head, completely ignoring him, and walked away. Behind me, another crash sounded, even louder than the first. I didn’t look back. 4 Recently, I had become the hottest topic of gossip in the entire school. “It seems like Chloe really doesn’t like Julian anymore.” When people came up to ask me directly, I nodded vigorously to confirm. Who would like a violent, savage psychopath anyway? I stopped following Julian around. I stopped offering him favors. But my actions didn’t seem to convince everyone. They thought I was just playing hard to get. Julian clearly thought the same thing. Until the day graduation finally arrived, and I met Silas Sterling for the very first time. Julian lost his mind. 5 The graduation gala was held the day after our final exams. All the performances had been rehearsed weeks in advance. My class’s final performance was a choir song, and I had been selected to play the piano accompaniment. When I stood in front of the mirror in my formal gown, I genuinely froze for a second. The System chimed in with some rare idle chatter. “That dress really suits you… You look ethereal.” I offered a small smile. “Thanks.” It quickly followed up with: “Silas Sterling was invited to attend today. There’s something you need to know beforehand…” … When I walked out of the dressing room, I distinctly heard a collective gasp from the surrounding students. I felt a bit embarrassed, my ears burning hot. But the smile on my face froze the very next second. Julian was standing a short distance away. He looked like he had just come out of the batting cages. He was holding a baseball bat in one hand, wearing a black baseball cap, casually chewing gum. His eyes drifted toward me coldly. Then, he walked straight over. “Everyone out.” With Julian’s intimidating reputation, no one dared to argue. The room cleared out instantly. 6 The gown was off-the-shoulder. Julian’s eyes locked shamelessly onto my collarbones. I frowned and turned to leave. “Take one more step and see what happens.” The cold voice behind me dripped with obvious warning. “Do you need something?” I didn’t look at him, my voice filled with impatience. “I’ve been hearing some rumors lately. I came to verify them.” Julian casually swung the baseball bat, then lifted it, pressing the tip under my chin to force my head up. He smiled and asked. “They say you don’t like me anymore.” “Is it true?” I couldn’t figure out what he was playing at, so I chose to just tell the truth. “Yes.” The baseball bat shifted, sliding along the side of my face, tapping my cheek lightly. Julian was still smiling, but his eyes were completely dead. “You have a death wish, don’t you, Chloe?” I didn’t get it. I stopped bothering him and Maya. Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted? He stepped closer, lowering his head toward my collarbone. With the bat pressed hard against my side, I couldn’t move an inch. I clenched my fists. Just as I was about to shove him away, my homeroom teacher’s voice rang out from the doorway, calling for me. Julian froze. He slowly lifted his eyes to look at me. “Listen to me. If I ever hear that rumor again, you’ll regret it.” When is this psycho going to die? Without saying a word, I shoved him out of the way and walked out the door. 7 The performance went perfectly. Our class even won an award. But since we had already graduated and the class was officially disbanded, no one really cared about the trophy. So, I volunteered to go on stage to accept it. Because today, the person handing out the awards was Silas Sterling. The man in the immaculately tailored suit walked gracefully toward me. It was a face that could rival any top-tier model. And… it looked vaguely familiar. I took the trophy from his hands. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling.” I offered him my brightest smile, showing off my dimples. He looked at me thoughtfully for a second before offering a polite, distant smile in return. By the time we stepped off the stage, we still hadn’t exchanged a single word. But I wasn’t giving up yet. A few moments later, I checked the time and slowly made my way toward the area near Silas’s seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a heavy steel lighting rig loosening above him. The exact second it snapped and plummeted toward him, I sprinted forward. “Mr. Sterling!” I tackled him to the ground. A blinding, agonizing pain exploded across my back. “Chloe!” Julian’s voice ripped through the air from nearby. I struggled to keep my eyes open. Julian was sprinting toward me. The look on his face was pure, unfiltered panic—something I had never seen on him before. The next second, I collapsed into Silas’s arms, passing out from the pain. 8 A minor hairline fracture in my back, but I got exactly what I wanted: I was moved into Silas Sterling’s mansion. He carried me into the hospital for my x-rays and then brought me straight to his house. When I woke up, it was the middle of the night. Silas was sitting on the sofa across from my bed. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively gentle. “Tell me, who paid you to put on that little performance today? Hmm?” So it was an interrogation. I propped myself up and looked at the man hidden in the shadows. “Nobody.” My brain short-circuited, and the next words just flew out of my mouth. “Mr. Sterling, I like you.” Silas narrowed his eyes at me and let out a low chuckle. “You like me?” I nodded with absolute sincerity. Silas stood up and slowly, deliberately unbuttoned his suit jacket. A sudden chill ran down my spine. He walked over, leaned down, slid an arm under my back, and effortlessly lifted me onto his lap. His fingers casually brushed against the hem of my shirt. His voice was warm and intoxicating. “If you like me, you wouldn’t refuse this, would you?” I knew he was testing me. But I still couldn’t stop myself from shaking. His hand slowly traced its way up to my collarbone, his voice unhurried. “Hmm?” I gripped his shirt tightly, completely at a loss. Silas sat up slightly, cupping my cheek to bring my face closer. His breath hovered just over my lips. “You’re scared.” I snapped out of my daze and pushed him away. “I-I need to use the restroom…” The bedroom had an en-suite bathroom. But I completely ignored it and rushed out of the room. 9 However, when I accidentally pushed open the door to another room down the hall, I froze completely. Hanging on the walls were leather belts, riding crops, and things I couldn’t even name. I gulped dryly and asked the System. “Why does it feel like Silas is an even bigger psycho than Julian?” The System coughed awkwardly. “I forgot to mention, Silas has a secret side to him. He’s…” Before it could finish, someone grabbed my wrist from behind. My entire body went rigid. I slowly turned my head. “Julian?” He was frowning deeply, letting out a cold sneer. “You stopped liking me just so you could throw yourself at this freak, Silas?” What gave one psycho the right to call someone else a psycho? “What are you doing here?” I asked. Julian grabbed my arm and tried to drag me away. “I’m getting you out of here. You need to stay far away from Silas.” “He’s a lunatic,” he said. Before I could respond, a slow, gentle voice floated down the hallway. “Little brother, what do you think you’re doing?” Julian froze instantly, stepping in front to shield me. Little brother? Julian Sterling. Silas Sterling. They were actual brothers. Julian had intentionally hidden his true background and his relationship to Silas at school. I peeked out from behind him, and my blood ran cold. Silas was holding a handgun, aimed directly at Julian. His expression was completely calm. Even if it wasn’t lethal, the intimidation factor was terrifying. “Come here.” His gaze shifted from Julian to me. “Don’t go!” Julian yelled. I stood rooted to the spot, hesitating. Why did this mission make me want to die? Why did I have to conquer two brothers, each one more unhinged than the last? 10 Just then, the System whispered something in my ear. I looked at the man holding the gun. A few seconds later, I pulled my arm out of Julian’s grip and walked toward Silas. “Chloe!” I turned around, meeting Julian’s desperate eyes calmly. “Julian, stop acting like you’re risking your life to save me.” “From the very beginning, the person who has hurt me the most… is you.” He stared at me unblinkingly, his eyes burning. “I already said I was f*cking sorry, didn’t I?!” “Don’t go to him!” I didn’t waver. I just shook my head. When I reached Silas’s side, he lowered the gun. “Good girl,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. He lifted my wrist, bringing it to his lips. He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss against my skin. At first, I was terrified of this man who clearly had some dark, twisted kinks. But because of that simple action, I couldn’t stop my face from burning bright red. … Julian was dragged out the front door by Silas’s bodyguards. I stood by the window, watching Julian standing outside in the pouring rain, staring up at me. “What are you looking at?” Silas locked the door and walked toward me lazily. When I saw what was in his hand, the smile died on my face. It was a thin leather belt. He raised an eyebrow, the belt dangling from his hand to the floor. I swallowed hard. Silas didn’t seem to notice my panic. He easily lifted me with one arm and set me on the wide bay window ledge. “Let’s continue what we were doing before we were interrupted.” He leaned in, rubbing his nose affectionately against mine. My entire body went numb. I blinked rapidly. Silas’s eyes flicked toward the window behind me. It was obvious he could see Julian standing out there. Silas’s hand suggestively traced the shell of my ear. He let out a low chuckle. “Let’s do it right here. What do you think?” Isn’t this moving a bit too fast… “Silas!” Julian’s muffled roar drifted up through the rain. “I swear to God, if you touch her, I’ll kill you!” I looked over my shoulder. The soaking-wet teenager was grabbed by the bodyguards again and dragged off the property. 11 Silas watched the whole scene unfold with cold indifference. Only when Julian’s silhouette completely disappeared did he finally step back, creating space between us. He casually tossed the leather belt onto the windowsill. “Tell me why you’re really here, and I’ll let you go.” Silas unconsciously ran his thumb over his pinky ring, smiling. “Otherwise, you’re never leaving this place.” “You saw what was in that room. I have countless ways to make you wish you were dead.” “Oh.” I blinked at him. “I never planned on leaving anyway.” “As for the stuff in that room… if you really want me to try them, I guess I could agree.” “But can we limit it to one a day?” Because some of that stuff looked like it would really hurt… Silas stared at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. I hopped off the window ledge, walked right up to him, and looked up. The distance between us vanished again. The man’s eyes were pitch-black, as if no light could escape them. “Mr. Sterling, why are you so convinced I have an ulterior motive for approaching you?” “I told you from the start. I like you.” His eyes flickered. I met his gaze without a shred of hesitation, repeating it. “I like you, Silas.” “Love at first sight.” He still didn’t believe me, but he silently permitted me to stay. I figured he just wanted to keep me close to find out what my “real” motive was. 12 “Mr. Sterling, I made dinner just for you today~” — Ding! Affection +5. “I saw the news about your company acquisition tonight! You’re so amazing!” — Ding! Affection +5. That night, leaning against the headboard, I asked the System a question that had been bugging me. “Why does his affection go up just from me complimenting him, even when I literally haven’t done anything?” Back when I was chasing Julian, I would spend weeks preparing the perfect gift, only for him to toss it in the trash without a second glance. How could two brothers be so drastically different? The System didn’t fully grasp complex human emotions. “Isn’t this a good thing? At this rate, you’ll complete the mission and go back to your own world in no time.” “Based on his childhood, he’s extremely starved for affection. When you show up treating him so well, it’s completely normal for him to fall for you, right?” I froze for a second. The System then told me Silas’s backstory. Silas and Julian were half-brothers. Silas’s birth was not a happy accident. Their father had forced himself on Silas’s mother, resulting in pregnancy. Later, the father married Julian’s mother in a wealthy business alliance. He kept Silas’s mother trapped as a mistress. After years of torment, she committed suicide, leaving young Silas behind. Eventually, he was brought into the Sterling household under the title of an “illegitimate son.” Before Julian’s mother passed away, Silas never enjoyed a single day of the privileges that came with being a Sterling. Subjected to constant abuse and suppression, he lived worse than the family’s maids. When their father died, he left almost the entire inheritance to Julian. Silas’s current position and wealth were built entirely from scratch, clawing his way up through unimaginable hardship. … “No one has ever loved him,” the System said. “Even his own mother saw his birth as a disgrace.” “You are the first person to approach him without wanting his money or his power. Of course his heart is going to flutter for you.” I suddenly felt a profound sadness for him. No one had ever loved him. And he thought I was the first. But I was lying to him too. I was only doing this for a mission. 13 That heavy feeling lingered in my chest. The next morning, I kept thinking about what the System had told me, zoning out constantly. Even when Silas finished breakfast and was getting ready to leave for work, I was in a daze. “I’m leaving,” Silas said, buttoning his cuffs. I didn’t react immediately. “Oh. Okay.” He paused and looked over at me. “Is something wrong?” I stared blankly at him. “Did you forget something?” I thought for two seconds, then let out a slow “Huh?” Silas had his suit jacket draped over his arm, clearly ready to walk out the door. Suddenly, a soft chuckle broke the quiet air. Silas tossed his jacket onto a chair and walked slowly toward me. “It’s fine. I’ll help you remember.” He took the spoon out of my hand. Without warning, he scooped me up with one arm. So tall! Sitting on his forearm, I looked down. Terrified he might drop me, I quickly threw my arms around his neck. Silas carried me toward the room filled with all the unspeakable BDSM gear. I grew nervous. “What are you doing?” He smiled gently at me but didn’t answer. That made it even scarier… When he walked in, he reached for that same leather belt. !!!!! A very bad premonition washed over me. This time, Silas actually used it. He bound my hands to the window ledge in the master bedroom, then lightly brushed his thumb against my chin. His tone was warm. “When you remember, I’ll untie you.” “But what if I need to use the bathroom?!” I stared at him in disbelief, picking the most pressing question out of the million screaming in my head. Silas paused for a moment, appearing to genuinely consider the logistics. He found a solution quickly. But I wished he hadn’t. When he had picked me up so abruptly earlier, my slippers had fallen off in the chaos. I was sitting on the ledge, my bare feet dangling. Silas crouched down in front of me, slowly taking one of my feet into his hands. He seemed to be admiring it, almost playing with it. A chill crawled up my spine. After a long time, his eyes fixed on my ankle, and he spoke softly. “How about I have someone custom-make a locked anklet for you?” “So you can walk freely around this room…” His thumb rubbed against my ankle bone, whispering. “And only this room.” His twisted childhood had seriously warped his brain! In a flash of lightning, I finally remembered what I had forgotten. “I like you!” I blurted out frantically. Every morning, right before he left for work, I would run up to him, confess my love, and then smile and ask, “So, do you like me a little bit today?” As his affection meter steadily climbed, his verbal answer was always a flat, “No.” Today, things were different. After I asked my question, he uncharacteristically didn’t answer right away. “Can you untie this now?” I whispered. “It’s chafing.” Silas finally moved, setting down my foot before it completely cramped up, and unbuckled the belt. I swallowed nervously. Once the mission was complete, I was supposed to leave. With Silas’s extreme control issues, if I disappeared, wouldn’t he lose his mind? But when that moment finally came, I realized… I still didn’t understand Silas at all. 14 When Silas came home from work that evening, dark clouds covered the sky, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. A torrential downpour was coming. The rain started smashing against the windows just as Julian—who I hadn’t seen in over a month—showed up. He brought a crew, took down the bodyguards outside the villa, and kicked the front door open. Julian’s eyes locked immediately onto me. He was chewing gum, a lazy, arrogant smile on his face. “Chloe. I’m taking you with me.” “He can’t stop me this time.” Because of the chaos he had just caused, I had panicked and almost let the soup I was making for Silas boil dry. I glared irritably at the intruder. “I already told you I’m not leaving. Can you please stop bothering me?” Julian rolled his neck, letting out a scoff. His eyes were full of unbridled arrogance. “You’re leaving whether you want to or not.” From the very beginning, Silas had remained seated on the sofa, watching the circus unfold with cold indifference. A booming clap of thunder broke the heavy silence in the room. Silas stood up and walked over to the dining table, acting as if everything was completely normal. “You made soup today?” His tone was casual. I nodded slowly. He clearly wasn’t taking Julian seriously. Julian sneered. “Silas, is pretending you’re not bothered actually fun?” “I came here today to take Chloe, sure. But I also wanted to reminisce about the good old days with you.” He leaned casually against the doorframe, his expression dripping with nostalgia. “You remember, right? Five years ago, when you were absolutely nothing, you were no better than a dog. “Whenever anyone in the house was slightly annoyed, they’d take it out on you. Hey, let me ask you: do you even remember how many times you were slapped across the face or kicked to the ground?” I froze completely. The System had only given me a vague summary, saying Silas had a “rough” childhood. The gruesome details were infinitely more shocking. Julian frowned, asking in a mock-serious tone, “Silas, do you think you were just born with a peasant’s destiny?” His words were laced with unconcealed mockery and triumph. My fingers dug white-knuckled into the edge of the dining table. After his last sentence, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I grabbed the bowl next to me and hurled it directly at him. “What makes you think you have the right to judge anyone?!” “Julian, I always thought you were just a scumbag, but it turns out you’re a complete piece of trash.” Caught off guard, the bowl clipped Julian’s forehead. His face instantly darkened. He glared at me through gritted teeth. “You hit me for this bastard?” Hearing that word, my lingering fury ignited. Just as I picked up another bowl to throw, Silas raised his hand and stopped me. When he looked at Julian, there wasn’t a trace of anger in his eyes. “I heard you care very deeply about your little cousin?” He asked a completely unrelated question. Julian’s eyes narrowed sharply. “What are you talking about?” Silas smiled, picked up the iPad resting on the table, played a video, and slid it toward Julian. The piercing screams of a woman echoed from the speakers. The footage was crystal clear: she had been kidnapped. The second Julian recognized the girl, all the color drained from his face. He forced a strained smile. “She’s not even in the country. If you’re gonna use deepfakes, at least make them convincing.” Silas smiled too. “It’s in Valencia.” The moment the words left his mouth, the arrogant, reckless boy seemed to have all his life force drained from his body. The System had mentioned before that Julian treated his little cousin, Maya, like his own sister.

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My boyfriend was found by a billionaire. I jokingly asked him if I was about to become the wife of a CEO. He paused, then said his family was strictly middle-class. 1 Seven days after my boyfriend reunited with his biological parents, he finally returned to our cramped studio apartment. He wore the same faded hoodie, his expression flat, his hair characteristically messy. He didn’t look like a guy who had just struck gold. But the internet told a different story. Trending everywhere: my boyfriend’s father was a real estate tycoon. Mansions, luxury cars, shell companies—you name it. His family had searched for him for twenty years. Now, they were ready to hand him the keys to the kingdom. Ethan was now the luckiest guy in America. I was genuinely happy for him. I nudged him and joked, “So, Ethan, are you here to pick me up in a limo so I can be your CEO wife?” That was the dream he used to paint for me. We were both foster kids. No parents, no safety net. Every step we took was a grueling uphill battle. We met five years ago by my street-side coffee cart in Chicago. He had just finished an 80-hour work week and bought an iced latte from me. For five years, we leaned on each other, surviving in this rundown apartment. Times were hard, but warm. He used to say that if he ever found his real parents, and if they happened to be filthy rich, he’d make sure I lived like royalty. Bodyguards clearing the way, Michelin-star dinners, Birkin bags, and Porsches at my disposal. I’d laugh and promise him right back. “If my real parents are the rich ones, I’ll make you the boss! Private jets, yachts, whatever you want!” We’d huddle in our cheap blankets on freezing nights, giggling at our impossible fantasies. And now, his rich parents actually found him. So I was thrilled. It was my turn to be the billionaire’s wife, right? “Actually, my family is just average. Don’t believe the clickbait online,” Ethan’s voice snapped me back to reality. I froze. He looked away, his tone eerily calm. “The family business is underwater. They owe the banks hundreds of millions. My rich-kid dream is dead.” Is it? I stared at him in silence. He cast a fleeting glance at me, then stood up and walked to the bedroom. “I need to head back there tomorrow. Just packing some clothes.” “Are you coming back?” I asked. He paused, sighing with his back to me. “Depends. I want to spend time with my parents. We just reunited, after all.” His implication was clear: I’m not coming back. What about me? Five years together, just over like that? I opened my mouth, but the question died in my throat. 2 Night fell. We had nothing left to say, but we still laid in the same bed. There was only one bed, so we had no choice. In the past, I’d wickedly slide my freezing feet under his shirt, and he’d gasp, complaining while warming them up with his body heat. Now, an invisible, thick wall stood between us. We were inches apart, yet separated by galaxies. Maybe the silence was too loud. Ethan finally spoke. “Maya, I’m leaving our joint debit card with you. Keep it safe.” That card held our savings from the last five years. Exactly $34,550. We had planned to use it for a down payment on a small house back in my rural hometown in Indiana, ending our endless drifting. For some reason, my nose burned. My eyes welled up. I didn’t answer. “There’s about thirty-something thousand in there,” Ethan continued. “I’ll take fifteen thousand tomorrow. The rest is yours.” “Is your family really struggling that much? You need to take fifteen thousand?” I sniffled. “Yeah. That’s why I don’t want to drag you down.” Ethan looked me dead in the eyes, perfectly sincere. In that split second, I knew he was breaking up with me. A tear slipped out, but I forced it to stop. I forced a smile. “You just want to break up, don’t you? I don’t buy that your family is broke.” He stiffened, then pulled me into his arms. “You’ve been brainwashed by the media. Don’t believe everything online. I would never lie to you.” Would he? Ethan had never lied to me before. He used to love me fiercely. Besides his grueling tech job and DoorDash side hustle, he spent every waking moment with me. Sometimes, when I ran the coffee cart until midnight, he’d run over with a small cupcake. “Cupcake for Maya? If you eat it, you’re mine,” he’d smile brightly. I loved his smile the most. I’d pack up my cart and shake my head. “Not eating it. I’m not yours.” But I’d always end up laughing. We used to be so in love. “Let’s just sleep,” I said, wiping my eyes, unwilling to dig deeper. When a woman is at her most vulnerable, she rarely wants to uncover a truth that might destroy her. “Goodnight, baby,” Ethan stroked my hair. Familiar and gentle. I drifted into a hazy half-sleep, only to feel Ethan roll over a long while later. A faint light pierced the dark. He had checked his phone. My heart dropped. I played dead. He nudged me gently, testing to see if I was asleep. I didn’t move a muscle. Satisfied, he turned his back and opened his messages. I carefully lifted my head and saw walls of text. He was messaging someone saved as “Sweet Tooth.” They had been texting relentlessly. In the seven days since he found his family, they must have exchanged thousands of texts. His last message read: [I’m worth hundreds of millions now. Are you ready to come back to me?] Lightning struck my spine. I started shaking uncontrollably. The truth was a butcher’s knife, and it shredded my heart into pieces. He was lying. He was a millionaire. He could have made me his wife. But instead, he was asking another woman to take the crown. 3 The woman hadn’t replied. Ethan stared at the screen, agonizing over his next move. He was so deeply engrossed he didn’t even notice my trembling. Finally, he sent another text: [Are you worried about Maya? She and I live in totally different worlds now. After tomorrow, I’ll never see her again.] Instant reply: [Really? You’re a viral sensation now. If you dump Maya, won’t I get canceled online for being the homewrecker?] [As long as we’re happy, who cares about the trolls? Besides, Maya is dumb as rocks. We’ll break up peacefully, she’ll go back to Indiana crying, and that’ll be the end of it.] My jaw rattled. My heartbreak violently morphed into sheer rage. Dumb as rocks. That’s how he viewed me? [Okay… Honestly, I’ve always liked you. I wanted to say yes in college, but my parents demanded a guy with a house in the city…] [Don’t worry about that! My dad just bought a mansion in the Gold Coast. We can move right in!] Ethan’s normally stoic face twisted into a grotesque, uncontrollable grin. It was the pure ecstasy of a man who finally won the lottery and his trophy wife in the same breath. I knew exactly who this woman was. Harper. His college crush, a local trust-fund baby whose background completely eclipsed an orphan like me. He once told me about her, sounding entirely indifferent, as if he was totally over it. But he had kept her number. And the moment he struck it rich, she was his first call. Men really never get over their shiny “what-ifs.” I wiped my face. I refused to shed another tear. The movement finally caught Ethan’s attention. He whipped his head around, looking at me like he’d seen a ghost. I sat up, turned on the bedside lamp, and blew my nose with a tissue. Ethan froze, his face draining of color, then flushing red. After a long silence, he asked, “You saw everything?” “Everything,” I nodded, laughing bitterly. His expression twisted again—from embarrassment to anger, before he finally stood up. “I’m sorry. Since you know, there’s nothing left to say.” He started putting on his clothes, completely shutting down. He was the textbook definition of a guilty man: turning guilt into defensive rage, and then converting that rage into cold apathy. All in the span of two seconds. “Not even going to explain?” I stared at him like he was a piece of trash. I had never looked at him like that before. My gaze triggered his defensive rage again. “Explain what? Water flows down, people move up. I finally reached the top of the mountain. Do you expect me to crawl back into the gutter with you?” “I didn’t ask you to come back to the gutter. But you could have taken me to the mountain.” Five years. Didn’t I even deserve a glimpse of the view? Ethan pursed his lips, scoffing coldly. “My parents made it clear. They don’t want a nobody orphan for a daughter-in-law. My hands are tied.” “Your parents literally said on live TV they’d accept anyone you loved.” Cornered by his own lies, Ethan kicked the wardrobe violently. “Enough! You just want my money! You’re a gold digger!” He glared at me with absolute disgust. I was speechless. I’m the gold digger? If I cared about money, I would have left him years ago for the guy with the BMW, leaving Ethan and his beat-up Honda Civic in the dust. I could have married my landlord’s nephew who owned three commercial properties. But I never entertained them. I never even told Ethan, terrified it would hurt his ego. “Nothing to say? Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?” Ethan sneered, regaining his arrogant high ground. “We both know exactly whose true colors just got exposed,” I mocked. He pointed violently at the door. “Shut up! I wanted to give you a dignified exit, but you had to make a scene. So get out! And don’t forget whose name is on the lease!” 4 Wrapped in my oversized winter coat, beanie pulled low, I walked out of the apartment. The door slammed shut behind me. The noise stung my eardrums. That slam shattered whatever was left of our five-year relationship. It was almost funny. I had carried around a piece of trash for five years, and only today did I finally smell the rot. And the stench was so bad it made me want to vomit. The stairwell was pitch black; the motion-sensor light had been broken for months. I stood in the dark, sniffing, wiping the moisture from my eyes. I didn’t scream or break things. I didn’t want to wake the neighbors’ kids. I thought to myself: I am such a kind person. And because I am kind, I am stupid. I walked down the stairs. Opening the metal security door, the biting winter wind slapped my face. I took two steps, then turned back. Not because it was cold, but because I forgot my lifeline. Under the stairs in the storage area sat my coffee cart, complete with syrups and a dozen glass jars. My baby. I gripped the handle and pushed it out into the unforgiving wind. Out of habit, I headed toward the downtown riverwalk. That was my spot. In the summer, I’d stay there until sunrise. When I arrived, the cold reality set in. What was I doing here in the dead of winter? As I stood there shivering, a delivery truck pulled up. The driver rolled down his window. “Hey kid, got any hot coffee?” I shook my head. No. He looked disappointed and started to roll the window up, but then stopped and waved me over. “Wait, c’mere.” I walked over blankly. He stared at me, pulled a crumpled flyer from his dash, and squinted. “Kid, that mole under your right eye… you’ve had that since you were little?” I nodded. “Where’s your hometown?” “Indiana.” “Holy shit!” The driver practically jumped out of the cab. He shoved the missing person flyer in my face. “Look! This billionaire is looking for his daughter. Went missing from Indiana… mole under the right eye…” My brain was too numb to process it. I didn’t even look at the paper. He was practically vibrating. “You see that viral story about Ethan? Well, it sparked a trend! Now all the billionaires are looking for their lost kids. This guy is the richest man in the city! “He plastered these everywhere. $15,000 for a solid lead, a million bucks if you actually find her!” He was talking too fast, and his accent was thick. I just shook my head. “I don’t know. I need to go.” I pushed my cart toward the east side of the market. There was an awning there that could block the wind. “Wait! Hold on!” The driver tried to chase me, then shrieked, “Oh shit, the parking brake!” His truck was slowly rolling backward. He scrambled back into the cab. I kept walking, blowing warm air into my freezing hands. Under the awning, the dim streetlamp offered a miserable illusion of warmth. 5 I slept fitfully under the awning. I woke up shivering violently, my hands and feet like ice, my neck screaming in pain. The morning vendors were arriving. The smell of fresh bagels and breakfast sandwiches filled the air. An older woman setting up her bagel stand jumped when she saw me huddled on the bench. “Honey, are you okay? What are you doing out here in this cold?” She definitely thought I was homeless. I told her I was fine, just resting. She shook her head and handed me a hot bagel and a coffee. I devoured it. Heat finally spread through my veins. That sliver of warmth made me realize how incredibly stupid I was. Sleeping outside in this weather? A sudden freeze could have killed me! Imagine dying of hypothermia over a trash-bag ex-boyfriend. “Ma’am, let me help you sell these,” I said, forcing myself to stand up. A girl living on the margins like me has to be tough. If I stepped in shit, I needed to scrape it off my shoe and keep walking. The morning rush was brutal, and the lady was grateful for the help. I worked until 10 AM. The winter sun hit my face, and I felt a surge of new life. She paid me 50 bucks and apologized it wasn’t more. I thanked her, restocked my cart, and figured I could afford a cheap motel with heating tonight. Then I remembered the money. I am so stupid. My joint account with Ethan had over 30 grand in it. I was so angry last night I walked away without it. I needed to get my half back. It was my survival money. I pushed my cart all the way back to the apartment, only to find it empty. He had even changed the locks. I banged on the door furiously, but there was no answer. Did he run off with my money? “Scumbag!” I cursed out loud. The memory of our five years together literally made my stomach churn. I turned around, and there she stood on the stairs, looking down at me. Immaculate makeup, an expensive wool coat, clutching a Chanel bag. Next to her, I looked like a stray dog. “Are you Maya?” 6 The woman smiled. She looked polite on the surface. I nodded. She walked down the steps and pulled a debit card from her designer bag. It was my card. This was Harper. I had never seen her before, but her old-money arrogance radiated off her in waves. “Maya, Ethan told me everything. He was way too impulsive kicking you out,” Harper said, not bothering to introduce herself. A sneer flashed in her eyes. “I scolded him. And I brought your card back. He didn’t touch a single dime.” Her lips curled into a condescending smile. “Consider Ethan’s half of the savings your severance package. Take it, go back to Indiana, and live a quiet life. Don’t suffer in the big city anymore.” She was managing my life with effortless cruelty. She stood below me on the stairs, but she was looking at me like an insect. Using a tone of fake pity to dismiss me. To her, I should be on my knees thanking her for bringing me my life savings. It was almost comical. “Am I supposed to say thank you?” I stared at her. She smiled. “No need. You earned it. I looked it up—real estate in your little hometown is dirt cheap. You can buy a nice trailer with this. Your youth wasn’t totally wasted.” I didn’t respond. I just looked at her. “What?” she asked. “Nothing. It’s just rare to meet someone like you.” “Like me?” “Yeah. You’re the other woman, but you stand in front of the victim acting like you’re the Queen of England. How do you manage that mentally?” I asked with genuine curiosity. Her smile vanished. She realized I wasn’t some fragile little girl who was going to collapse and run back to the Midwest in tears. “Looks like our little coffee girl has a big appetite,” Harper sneered. “Tell you what. I’ll add an extra $15,000 if you leave the city today. Deal?” “You could give me ten million, and I’ll still live wherever the hell I want,” I mocked. “You’re actually terrified of me, aren’t you? Afraid I’ll expose Ethan? Afraid it’ll ruin your pristine socialite reputation?” Harper’s face contorted. I hit the bullseye. Ethan was a viral star now. If the internet found out he dumped his ride-or-die for a trust-fund kid, they’d both be crucified. “Ethan underestimated you. You’re not entirely stupid,” she said. “Thanks.” “Don’t thank me. Thank you for saving me fifteen grand.” She regained her composure, her eyes turning cold. “Do you think playing tough gives you leverage? Let me be real with you. You’re a bottom-feeder. You have no power, no connections. All you have is a big mouth.” “What’s your point?” “My point is, I’m done playing nice. You have until sundown to pack up and leave this city. I never want to see your face again.” She stretched her arms casually. “Honestly, I haven’t bullied anyone since high school prep. I forgot how fun it feels.” She wasn’t a gangster. She was just entitled. And that entitlement bred a terrifying kind of cruelty. 7 Harper delivered her ultimatum, clutched her Chanel bag, and walked out elegantly. A black Mercedes S-Class was waiting for her. She got in and sped off. I didn’t care. I went straight to an ATM to check the balance. $34,550. I exhaled. It was all there. My blood, sweat, and tears. I pushed my cart back to the riverwalk, secured my spot, ate a hot meal at a diner, and waited for night to fall. Despite the cold, hot coffee and cider sold well. By 1:30 AM, I was completely sold out. I happily counted my cash, ready to pack up and get that warm motel room. I looked up. Five men on heavy motorcycles pulled up. They yelled at me to make them lattes. I told them I was sold out. They erupted. “You playing with us, bitch? You’re a coffee cart with no coffee?” I jumped, suddenly remembering Harper’s ultimatum. Before I could react, one of the guys kicked my cart. Because it was empty and light, the kick sent it crashing to the pavement. The heavy metal handle slammed into my knee, sending me crashing to the ground. The few remaining vendors nearby watched in stunned silence. “Where’s the coffee? I’m thirsty!” Another guy stepped up, his eyes cold and dead behind his helmet visor. “Help!” I screamed. The man snapped, slapping me hard across the face. “Shut up! You looking to die?” Another biker pulled out a baseball bat and started smashing my glass jars. Glass rained everywhere. “If you’re not selling, get the fuck off the street! Next time we see you, we’re putting you in the ground!” The leader grabbed me by my coat and dragged me up. “Get out of the city, or next time, we won’t just hit you!” He backhanded me again. Blood filled my mouth. My vision went black. Satisfied, they dropped me and sped off into the night, their engines roaring. My cart was destroyed. Everything was ruined. Nobody dared to approach me. I couldn’t stand. I lay on the freezing concrete, gasping for air, blood and tears mixing on my face. Terror and helplessness suffocated me. I wasn’t tough. I had been alone for so long. I gave up college to pay medical bills for my foster grandma. I worked the streets. I met Ethan, got betrayed, and here I was. Still completely alone. Beaten bloody, unable to crawl. It hurt so much. In the distance, I heard footsteps running toward me. “I saw her right around here that night! I knew I shouldn’t have let her walk away… where did she go?” An older man was scratching his head, leading a wealthy, middle-aged couple down the path. It was the truck driver. As my consciousness faded, I heard the driver yell, “Over there! Oh my god!” Before I passed out, warm arms wrapped around me. A woman’s trembling voice whispered urgently, “Don’t be afraid, sweetie… she looks just like me. Oh god, Harrison, she’s identical…” 8 I woke up in a VIP hospital suite. A senior doctor in a white coat was respectfully giving a report to a man by the window. “Mr. Sterling, her condition is stable. We are monitoring her closely. As for the DNA test, it’s being rushed. We’ll have results by tonight.” I blinked, staring at the ceiling, feeling disoriented. The woman sitting by my bed noticed I was awake and burst into tears. “You’re awake! Honey… are you okay?” I looked at her. I didn’t know her. But she radiated an incredible elegance. She looked like old-money royalty. Even her simple cardigan screamed luxury. The man standing beside her had a strong, commanding presence. Even in a casual suit, he looked like a king holding court. “Can you speak, sweetheart?” the man asked gently. My throat was dry and painful. The senior doctor practically sprinted over to pour me a glass of warm water. I took a sip. It felt heavenly. “Thank you… for saving me,” I croaked. The woman covered her mouth, sobbing harder. “I’m Harrison Sterling. And this is my wife, Victoria,” the man said, taking my hand gently. Harrison Sterling? The name clicked. The wealthiest man in the city. The guy who basically owned the skyline. Even the street I sold coffee on belonged to one of his real estate groups. “You know who I am?” Harrison laughed softly, refusing to let go of my hand, his eyes scanning every inch of my face. “Don’t scare her, Harrison,” Victoria gently swatted his arm, then stroked my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, honey. He’s just… so happy.” “Why?” I asked, confused. Before they could answer, another doctor burst into the room holding a folder. The senior doctor snatched it, read it, and gasped. “Mr. Sterling… it’s a 99.9% match. She’s your daughter!” 9 That single sentence shattered their composure. Victoria wailed, throwing her arms around me, holding me for dear life. Harrison Sterling, the billionaire titan, trembled and turned his face away to wipe his tears. I lay there, completely paralyzed. I am… a billionaire’s daughter? I remembered the truck driver. He must have called them. A heavy, suffocating ache began to swell in my chest. Twenty years of suffering, loneliness, and grinding poverty condensed into a single moment. The tears fell silently. I had parents. I finally had a mom and a dad. Overwhelmed, I turned my face away. They panicked, thinking they had upset me. “Sweetheart… Mom is here. Mom finally found you,” Victoria cried. Harrison steadied himself, his protective instincts kicking in. He pulled out his phone. His voice was laced with pure, terrifying ice. “Did you find the men who put hands on my daughter?” “Mr. Sterling, they fled the state. But we will track them down,” a voice replied. “Do it. I want to know exactly who gave the order. No one touches my blood.” He was hunting down Harper’s biker gang. I tried to speak, but Harrison leaned over. “Rest, sweetheart. I know this is a lot to process. When you’re discharged, we are throwing a massive gala. The whole city will know my daughter has returned.” Victoria kissed my forehead. “Just rest, my love. Whatever you want, Mom will give it to you.” They didn’t interrogate me about the attack. They just wanted me to feel safe. I closed my eyes. The sheer joy of being loved was intoxicating. I wasn’t a nobody anymore.

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For twenty years, we were childhood sweethearts. Everyone knew Declan loved me. In college, this rebellious bad boy had three ribs broken in a street fight and didn’t make a single sound. But for me, he dropped to his knees in front of his attackers. When his knees hit the pavement, he looked up and smiled at me: “Don’t cry, Harper. My life is yours. What’s a little kneeling?” But on the day of our engagement, I heard him say to another woman with my own ears: “Baby, my life is yours.” And his “baby” wasn’t me. 1 Everyone at our university knew Declan was a rebellious trust-fund kid. He was a cynical bad boy who played games with life, acting like nothing in the world mattered to him. The only exception was me. Whenever I was involved, he would lose his cool instantly. I am Harper. Everyone also knew that the campus beauty, Savannah, had silently loved Declan for seven years. She once ran through a torrential downpour to bring him cold medicine, getting so sick she missed three days of classes. She sneaked a hot plate into her dorm to cook soup for him, nearly getting expelled when she was caught. She hid a sketchbook that someone eventually found. Every single page was filled with sketches of Declan. Declan spacing out, Declan playing basketball, Declan getting water for his girlfriend… Many people felt bad for her, pitying her seven years of unrequited love. But Declan’s love for me was a universally acknowledged fact. He had taken a knife for me. He had gotten on his knees for me. He had abandoned his reckless ways and studied relentlessly just to get into the same Ivy League school as me. At the height of the rumors, people used to say Declan loved me more than his own life. Once upon a time, I sentimentalized it and believed them. The school’s untouchable rebel used to hold my hand, begging me to date him. “Harper, have a little mercy on me…” The guy who was ruthless to his enemies couldn’t bear to raise his voice at me. “Harper, don’t cry, it’s my fault. Please don’t cry…” He was arrogant and untamed, yet he swore a vicious oath right to my face: “Harper, if I ever betray you, I’ll go straight to hell.” Twenty years of knowing and protecting each other. I thought I knew every side of Declan. I thought I was as familiar with him as the lines on my own left palm. Until right now. I stood fifteen feet away, watching like an outsider as he violently defended another woman. His fury looked distant and foreign. He seemed to have lost all rationality. Gone was his usual cool demeanor; the veins on his knuckles popped, making him look like a wolf ready to tear someone apart. “You dare touch what’s mine?” My breath hitched. My spine stiffened. The person he was claiming as his own wasn’t me. A mean girl from a rival sorority was pinned against the wall, choking out a sob. “She did it to herself…” Before she could finish, a lighter flared. Declan narrowed his eyes. “Dec, he’s new. He doesn’t know about Harper’s history,” a guy named Chase said quickly. Realizing that Declan was having a PTSD trigger, the guy hurriedly tried to apologize, snatching the cigarette out of the girl’s hand. But the look in Declan’s eyes was terrifyingly cold as he slowly approached the girl. “I didn’t mean to… It was her… she burned herself…” The girl was stammering, terrified by the sheer murder in his eyes. Declan’s expression was deadly. He turned his head slightly to look at Savannah, his words sharp as knives. “Do it back.” His tone was icy as he repeated, “However she bullied you, do it back.” All the sound in the alley seemed to vanish. I stared blankly at Declan’s cruelty, instinctively wrapping my coat tighter around myself, yet I still felt freezing cold. It was true that Declan had taken a knife for me. It was also true that he had washed his hands of his violent past. He had promised me he would never put himself in danger again, that he would never get involved in this kind of mess again. But now, he was losing his mind for Savannah. His handsome eyes were bloodshot as he glared at the girl. “I’m backing you up. What are you afraid of?” he told Savannah. Savannah kept her eyes lowered, not daring to look at him. Her frail body trembled slightly, looking so fragile that a gust of wind could knock her over. The collar of her shirt was torn, exposing her pale collarbone—and a fresh, glaring burn mark from a cigarette. When my eyes landed on that mark, my chest stung violently, as if I had been burned myself. My hand instinctively touched my chest. Over my own left breast, there were three distinct cigarette scars. Declan stared intensely at that red burn mark, his voice trembling involuntarily. “Do it back. Did you not hear me?” “Declan…” Savannah whimpered softly. She gently tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Declan froze. A flash of profound heartache crossed his face. For some reason, suppressed memories flooded my mind in chaotic fragments. “Harper, does it hurt really bad?” “Harper, I failed to protect you.” “Harper, please don’t look like that. I’m so scared…” A 17-year-old Declan holding me tightly, crying helplessly, his voice trembling beyond recognition. After that day, Declan quit smoking. More accurately, he physically couldn’t smoke anymore. The doctors said it was PTSD. To this day, he held a lit cigarette, slowly backing the mean girl into a corner. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He was terrified. “Declan!” the girl suddenly shrieked. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? Everyone says you love her! What the hell are you doing standing up for this manipulative bitch?!” “Your girlfriend…” Declan’s eyes snapped up, glaring at her with a murderous intensity. The girl immediately shut her mouth, swallowing her next words. She was shaking in fear, her eyes darting around frantically. And then, she saw me. Like a drowning woman spotting a lifeline, her eyes lit up with desperate joy. She screamed at the top of her lungs, “Call the cops! Call the cops for me!” “Please, call the police…” Everyone turned their heads. The moment our eyes met, Declan froze. He instinctively dropped the cigarette and hurried toward me in a panic. “Harper…” He looked down at me, his aggressive, sharp features instantly softening. The intimidating aura vanished completely. Just the sound of him saying my name made my throat tight. Seeing my red eyes, Declan hesitated, then hurriedly pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I stood you up, didn’t I?” “I was going to come find you, but my phone rang.” “I don’t know what happened to me, Harper.” “When I heard someone say, ‘I’ll burn you alive with this cigarette,’ I completely lost it.” “I was so scared. I thought what happened back then was repeating itself.” “I don’t know what came over me, all the blood just rushed to my head and I couldn’t think straight. I was just so terrified…” So that was it. That was why Declan lost control. Five years had passed. That bullying incident was my nightmare, but it was an inescapable nightmare for Declan too. Yet my heart still throbbed with a dull ache, like it had been smashed with a sledgehammer. I looked up at him, my eyes burning. “Didn’t you promise me?” Declan froze. His eyes instantly reddened, and he lowered his head like a dog that knew it had done wrong. My voice trembled as I repeated, “Did you forget what you promised me?” After a long silence, he finally looked at me with bloodshot eyes. “I don’t think I can ever get over it, Harper.” “I failed to protect you back then.” “If I had to do it over again, I would never let that happen to you…” The teenage boy unknowingly gripped my hand so tight my knuckles ached. After that incident, Declan couldn’t sleep well for a long time, constantly waking up in the middle of the night. His mom told me he would toss and turn, wanting to call me in a panic, but afraid of waking me up. He took me to see a therapist, but in the end, he was the one who needed the therapy. Later, he took a burning cigarette and pressed it into his own chest three times, creating the exact same scars. “Harper, whatever pain you went through, I have to feel it too.” “Harper, even if you don’t blame me, I can’t stop blaming myself.” I thought of his tearful eyes, his trembling hands, and the sleepless nights he spent tortured by guilt. No matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to blame him. “It’s in the past, Declan. It’s all in the past…” I gently hugged him back. “Harper… it will never happen again.” Declan buried his face in my neck, a scalding tear dropping onto my collarbone. I should have believed him. Declan had never broken a promise to me before. But the unease in my heart lingered. This was his first time breaking a rule. His first time abandoning me. His first time breaking our promise. And it was all for Savannah. 2 In high school, everyone knew Declan and I were a package deal. But Savannah still fell hopelessly, incurably in love with him. Her love was silent, passionate, like a moth to a flame. She didn’t care if she burned to ash. Once, when Declan and I were eating in the cafeteria, someone intentionally bumped into Savannah, spilling soup and sauce all over her, and then blamed her for it. Declan casually stepped in and bailed her out. She looked up at him with panicked eyes, her gaze lingering for just a second before she ran away in a fluster. That was probably the beginning of her crush. But I was completely oblivious. Because back then, Savannah was painfully ordinary. It was hard to mistake Declan helping her for anything romantic. She had just transferred from a small rural town. She was chubby, her complexion was dull, she spoke with a thick accent, and worst of all, she always walked with her head down, like she was hiding from the world. But I don’t know when it started—she lost weight, her skin cleared up, her accent vanished, and she stopped slouching. Her style became trendy and chic. Years later, I finally realized that it was the brave, stubborn nature of a girl charging forward for love. After she lost the weight, she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she had this pure, innocent vibe that easily triggered a man’s protective instincts. She had a lot of guys chasing her, and she gradually gained the halo of “campus beauty.” But Savannah rejected them all, shyly keeping her head down and saying she already liked someone. The guys only tried harder, assuming it was just an excuse. Until someone found a sketchbook in her desk. Every single page was of the same person. A boy with short hair, sharp eyes, and a small mole on the right side of his nose. It turned out Savannah really did have someone she liked. And that person was my boyfriend. Some guys, purely wanting to start drama, stole the sketchbook and threw it onto Declan’s desk. Declan was ruthless. He personally handed it back to her. “Nice drawings. Think you can draw one of my girlfriend for me?” A teenage girl’s heart shattered on the floor. That night, Savannah cried until her eyes were swollen. But she didn’t seem to give up. She brought Declan medicine in the rain, and secretly cooked soup for him behind the RA’s back. After graduation, Declan and I both got into Stanford, and Savannah followed us to the same city, enrolling in a nearby, less-prestigious state college. I never really paid attention to Savannah because of how Declan treated her. When she brought him medicine, he ignored her, nuzzled my neck, and whined for me to go buy him medicine instead. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you already have some right there?” He casually tossed the bag of medicine she brought him into the trash. “I only take what you buy me. I’m not eating anything from anyone else.” When Savannah brought him soup, he dumped it out, grabbed the takeout soup I brought him, and ate it like it was a five-star meal, raving about how good it was. I laughed at him for being fake, but he held my hand with total sincerity. “Harper, whatever you give me is the absolute best.” Declan and I dated for seven years, and Savannah stayed single the entire time. Many rich kids at her college pursued her, but she didn’t look twice at any of them. Gradually, people started digging into her past, and rumors flew. They said the reason the campus beauty rejected countless guys was because her heart was already taken. And the guy she loved had a girlfriend. They were childhood sweethearts, went through everything together, and even went to Stanford together. Some called Savannah shameless for lusting after another woman’s boyfriend; others praised her as a hopeless romantic, keeping herself pure for him for seven years. Someone even said, “I heard that guy is getting married soon. The campus beauty has never even dated. It’s our time to shine, boys!” It was true. Declan and I were about to get married. We had agreed ages ago that we would get our marriage license right after graduation. And right at this critical moment, this incident happened. Was it really just a coincidence? 3 As a group of us walked out of the alley, Savannah followed closely beside Declan, clutching her chest. It seemed like she finally mustered all her courage to lightly tug at his shirt. Declan looked at her, his face darkening slightly with confusion. Savannah looked embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and stammered, “Dec… can I… can I borrow your jacket for a minute?” Declan paused. His eyes flicked to me for a second, then scanned the guys behind him. He yelled casually, “Chase, lend her your jacket.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the guys started jeering. “Chase, you really have no situational awareness.” “Such a perfect opportunity, and you need Declan to play matchmaker for you?” Savannah’s face went chalk-white, all the color draining from her tightly pressed lips. Everyone there knew that in high school, Chase had relentlessly pursued Savannah. Declan’s actions clearly drew a firm boundary between him and Savannah. Savannah bit her lip, took Chase’s jacket, and intentionally walked further away. Declan told Chase to take Savannah to a nearby pharmacy to treat her burn, and then led the rest of us into a diner. Everyone hadn’t seen each other in a while, so the conversation was lively and loud. Savannah and Chase came back quickly. The tab was on Declan, and nobody held back. Except for Savannah, who sat quietly in the corner, nibbling on a dry burger. She was too embarrassed to order anything else and almost choked a couple of times. Everyone was busy teasing Declan and me; no one paid any attention to her. Until someone suddenly yelled, “Dec, I’m a grown man, why do I need to drink a hot latte?!” The guy next to him immediately smacked his arm. “You’re an idiot. Dec is just looking out for Harper.” The guy went, “Ohhh,” in realization. “So we’re just collateral damage for his romance.” The group cheered and teased us, but as the actual girlfriend, I couldn’t bring myself to smile. I was Declan’s girlfriend. If he wanted to buy me a latte, he didn’t need to jump through so many hoops. Declan’s face looked a little stiff, and he avoided my gaze. But Savannah, holding that hot latte, had sparkling eyes. She looked up and smiled at me. My heart instantly went cold. It was glaringly obvious who those dozen hot lattes were actually for. I remembered how every winter, Declan would wait for me and press a piping hot latte against my cheek. In the sweltering heat of summer, the teenage boy would run back panting, handing me a room-temperature water bottle. “Harper, I ran to five different stores and couldn’t find a cold one. Just make do with this…” Whenever I had bad cramps, he would watch me in pain and instinctively force me to avoid cold drinks. Declan was truly wonderful. So wonderful that I couldn’t bear to let him go. But that wonderfulness no longer belonged exclusively to me. He had duplicated it for someone else. While my thoughts were still a mess, I saw Savannah lean close to Declan, whispering something in his ear. Declan’s expression shifted, and he instinctively started taking off his jacket. Halfway through, he seemed to remember something, leaned into my ear, and whispered that Savannah had gotten her pants dirty, so he was lending her his jacket. As Declan pulled his jacket off with his head down, I wanted to remind him that doing this was highly inappropriate. But for some reason, my mind drifted back to that summer. I used the very first paycheck I ever earned—$500—to buy my boy this jacket. He started off acting proud, saying I wasted my money, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. He happily spun me around in the air, then rested his head on my shoulder, his soft hair brushing against my neck as he murmured, “Harper, why are you so good to me…” When the teenage boy looked up, I realized his eyes were completely red. I remember thinking back then that my puppy was a little silly. He was so easy to please… So many years had passed, but the jacket still looked brand new. He had always cherished it. If anyone even brushed against it, he’d get upset. But today, he lent it to Savannah. With such an intimate, ambiguous excuse. And his reaction was so natural. Without a single moment of hesitation. A terrible premonition washed over me. I realized that, while I wasn’t looking, someone had successfully lured my puppy away… 4 On the car ride back, I leaned exhaustedly against the window, quietly watching Declan. I thought about when we were five. He would tirelessly drag his favorite toys over to me—ferocious dinosaur action figures, terrifying monster trucks, and intimidating toy guns—slamming them down in front of me and instantly making me cry in fear. At family gatherings, the adults always used to tease him about it, saying Dec always wanted to be good to Harper, but he was just too dense and stubborn to know how. When we were ten, a boy passed me a note. Declan furiously charged at him and started a fistfight. When our parents were called in, he stubbornly maintained, “I just didn’t like his face.” On the walk home, the boy with a half-swollen face gently tugged at my shirt, pleading pitifully, “Harper, don’t play with him…” I remembered the scorching heat of a midsummer day. The electric fan was whirring loudly. He picked up my dropped hair tie from the floor and suddenly blurted out, “Harper, do you want to be my girlfriend?” I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I stared at him with wide eyes. He leaned in slightly, looking straight into my eyes, and promised, word by word, “Harper, as long as you say yes, I’ll never betray you in this lifetime.” Seeing my eyes water, Declan panicked and grabbed my hand. “I just thought Savannah looked too pitiful, being bullied like that, and she was too embarrassed to order food.” “When I lent her the jacket, I panicked. I didn’t think it through…” “Harper, I’ll never contact her again.” “Harper, you have to believe me. I only love you.” “Please don’t cry, Harper, please don’t cry. It kills me to see you like this.” Right in front of me, Declan dragged Savannah’s number into his blocked contacts. He hadn’t even saved her name in his phone. He swore up and down, “I have absolutely nothing going on with Savannah.” I was pulled into his arms, listening to his gentle, soothing voice. I didn’t struggle, and I didn’t speak. But the premonition in my heart was deafening. So, when Declan went to take a shower, I quietly opened his iMessage. Even though I was mentally prepared, the moment I saw the chat history, my brain buzzed, and the tightly wound string in my head snapped violently. A massive wave of shock and fury engulfed me, making my entire body shake uncontrollably. In their recent messages, Savannah had sent Declan a photo. It was a mirror selfie in a hotel room. She was wearing a tight, black slip dress. Paired with sheer black tights. Declan: “Why are you suddenly dressed like this.” Savannah: “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you anymore after this. Dec, I just want to make you happy.” “I want…” “I want to give you a proper goodbye.” I stared blankly at the messages, remembering that that was the day Declan and I went wedding dress shopping. He had seemed distracted. I noticed something was off and asked what was wrong. He avoided my eyes and said there was an urgent issue with his internship that needed his immediate attention. Understanding how hard his job was, I let him leave early. It turned out he was in a rush to go see Savannah. He was so desperate he couldn’t even focus enough to finish looking at wedding dresses with me. The boy who once gave up a prestigious academic competition for me was now using such a clumsy excuse to blow me off. And I had actually believed him. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears from falling. But the phone slipped from my weak grip and hit the floor. I picked it up with trembling hands and stubbornly kept scrolling up. “You’re a good person.” “But I have to get married.” “We’re done.” “Don’t get involved with a piece of trash like me ever again.” It was hilarious. My boyfriend was secretly breaking up with another woman behind my back. “But I’ll be good. Dec, you know me. I don’t want anything from you.” “Just as long as I can be by your side, even just as a backup, even if you only think of me when you’re bored, I’ll be happy.” Declan: “But Harper and I are getting married. I don’t want to let her down.” Declan wired Savannah a sum of money. Thirty thousand dollars. In disbelief, my fingers swiped up furiously. I needed to see exactly when Declan had started betraying me. It turned out, as early as the night of our high school graduation party, they were already messing around. That night, Declan got too drunk, and the two of them slept together in a hotel. Afterward, Declan guiltily messaged: “I’m sorry. I drank too much last night. I didn’t know it was your first time…” “It’s okay, Declan. I was willing.” To compensate Savannah, Declan bought her a designer bag. The funny part was, he bought me the exact same bag. I thought it was a romantic surprise. Looking back, that was probably just a form of compensation, too. Declan, oh Declan. If you knew you were doing me wrong, why did you keep lying to me over and over again? That night, I couldn’t reach him and tossed and turned all night. The next day, he explained that he got too drunk and just grabbed a hotel room nearby with some classmates. He didn’t lie. He told the truth. Except the “classmate” was Savannah. When he came to see me, he even brought me a Stitch plushie, saying he won it from a claw machine on his way to dinner. I love Stitch plushies. Whenever Declan saw a machine, he would pump quarters into it until he won, then present it to me like a trophy. My entire display cabinet at home was filled with them. That day, he obediently drank his hangover cure, suddenly stood up, hugged me tight like a little kid, buried his face in my shoulder, and murmured, “Harper, I only love you.” I thought it was a bit weird, but I still said, “I love you too.” Thinking about it now makes me want to vomit… So, that was Savannah’s first time, and it was Declan’s first time too. After that, maybe he was addicted, or maybe he just couldn’t resist the temptation. The two of them slept together many, many times. Savannah: “Are you going to be home alone tonight?” Declan: “I’m taking Harper to the dentist this afternoon. I’ll text you when we’re done.” Declan: “Harper is going out of state for a competition in a few days. I’ll come see you.” Declan: “Wait for me here at 3 PM on Sunday.” Savannah: “Okay.” … I felt like all the energy had been drained from my body. I slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor. Honestly, there had been signs of Declan’s cheating, but I had just trusted him too much. I was so full of hate. I hated him, and I hated myself. That time Savannah brought him soup—I ran into her right outside his hospital room… But Declan didn’t show a single hint of guilt. He even dumped the soup down the drain right in front of me. Later, Savannah whined to him, saying she slow-cooked it for hours and got written up by the RA for it, completely humiliating herself… Declan said, “Harper was there.” “I dumped the soup.” “Don’t do this kind of thing again.” Savannah asked, “Declan, is she really that great?” Declan: “She and I have been together for a long time.” “Don’t think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.” Savannah asked again, “She doesn’t suspect you, does she?” Declan: “She’s always trusted me implicitly.” Every single word Declan typed was like a knife plunging into my chest. Piercing my heart until it was shredded and bloody. So, he knew. He knew how hard-fought our years of love had been. But why? He took advantage of my trust, lying to me, betraying me time and time again, playing me for an absolute fool. Were all of Declan’s displays of love, all that sincerity, all that burning passion, just an act? Thinking about the past, how could I ever believe him again? It was all fake… It hurt. It really hurt. How could he say he loved me while messing around with another woman? Declan, a love like that is far too cheap. I don’t need it. I don’t need it anymore…

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Everyone said he only married me to spite my sister. But when he died in a horrific car crash, he left his entire estate to me. Along with a single voice recorder. When I clicked play, his deep, raspy voice filled the room. He said: “Harper… is it possible that you liked me too, even just a little?” Years too late, I finally saw the overwhelming, passionate love he had hidden beneath his icy exterior. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. My adoptive mother was gripping my hands tightly, sobbing. “Harper, please. Will you go to prison in your sister’s place? Please?” 1 Before I turned sixteen, I was the pampered princess of the Sterling family. I had loving parents, an older brother who spoiled me, and a carefree life. But when Chloe showed up at our door with a DNA test, I learned the truth. The nurses had switched us at birth. She was the biological daughter. I was just the cuckoo who had stolen her rightful place in the nest. I wanted to leave. But my biological parents had already passed away, and Mrs. Sterling couldn’t bear to see me become an orphan. So, they officially adopted me. My adoptive parents treated me well. My brother didn’t give me the cold shoulder, and Chloe never made things difficult for me. I was incredibly grateful. But years later, Chloe got into a physical altercation backstage with a co-star, Mia Thorne. During the struggle, Mia fell down a flight of stairs and slipped into a coma. There were no security cameras in that stairwell. But someone had to take the fall. And I just happened to be there, witnessing the whole thing. My adoptive mother came to me in tears, begging me to take the blame for Chloe. Chloe knelt in front of me, sobbing, slapping her own face, and apologizing profusely. The whole family wept as if their hearts were breaking. So, I nodded. I took the fall. I went to prison. I suffered through unimaginable hell. At first, the Sterlings came to visit me. They would cry, looking at me with guilt and apologies. But slowly, the visits stopped. No one came anymore. Once, the warden organized an activity asking us to write down our plans for when we got out. I thought about it for a long time before carefully writing: [When I get out, I want to see my mom and dad.] My cellmate saw it and laughed at how simple my wish was. “Of course your mom and dad will come pick you up! Why wouldn’t you be able to see them?” I just smiled and didn’t argue. But when the day of my release finally came, there was no one. Only Mr. Sterling’s assistant, who drove me to the airport and handed me a large check. He didn’t say a word. But I understood everything. I didn’t have a mom and dad anymore. The Sterling family had abandoned me. 2 I didn’t take the money. Not because I was trying to act noble or proud. I just didn’t want to owe the Sterlings anything ever again. They raised me for twenty years. I spent five years in prison for their daughter. We were even. I rented a tiny, run-down apartment and ran my feet ragged until I finally found a job that didn’t care about my criminal record. But just two weeks in, I was fired. I begged for an explanation. The manager finally stammered out, “You messed with someone you shouldn’t have.” I froze. I couldn’t say a single word. Someone I shouldn’t have messed with. Other than the Sterlings, who else could it be? That day, I walked through the city with my bag clutched to my chest. A cold, misty rain fell, the wind blowing it directly into my face. As I passed the downtown plaza, the giant jumbotron was broadcasting Chloe’s live award ceremony. I stopped and looked up. On stage, she was glamorous, radiating beauty and success. The camera panned, and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sterling looking up at her with tears in their eyes. They looked at her like she was their most precious treasure, their eyes brimming with love. For some reason, I suddenly remembered my adoptive mother’s promise during her first prison visit. Looking at how dangerously thin I had become, she cried and swore to me, “Harper, when you get out, Mom will take care of you for the rest of your life. Mom loves you.” But the last time I saw her, two years ago, her face held nothing but faint guilt. She said, “Harper, Chloe is engaged to Roman Vance now. She really loves him. When you get out, please leave the state. We can’t risk the Vance family finding out about the past.” Roman Vance. The untouchable heir to the Vance empire. We had a TV in the prison common room. I had heard all about the epic, fairy-tale romance between Chloe and Roman. Everyone said Roman was a notorious playboy, but Chloe had tamed him. He stepped into the entertainment industry—a world he usually despised—just to pave the way for her. He fed her endless resources, produced her movies, and personally handed her awards. Sometimes, I envied Chloe. I envied that she had parents who loved her and a boyfriend who favored her above all else. In just her twenties, she had everything: a soaring career and perfect love. Not like me. No parents, no career, no lover. Nobody loved me. 3 As for marrying Roman Vance, that was a complete accident. After getting fired, I moved to a smaller town and got a job as a waitress at a diner. It was a busy night. I don’t know how he found me, but when he walked in, I was serving beers to a table. One of the men had too much to drink and grabbed me inappropriately. I scowled and slapped him across the face. Enraged, the man kicked me hard, sending me crashing to the floor. Glass shattered. Hot food and beer spilled all over me. It burned. The man still wasn’t satisfied. He cursed at me and raised his fist to hit me again. But the next second, the diner went dead silent. I opened my eyes and saw a man standing over my attacker. Roman Vance had eyes as bright as stars. He smirked, a lazy, insincere curve of his lips. “Harper, you really are here.” I got up, brushing the food scraps off my clothes, nodded at him, and tried to walk past him to leave. But I didn’t even make it two steps. His voice rang out behind me. “Seeing as you’re a complete mess right now, do you want to marry me?” I whipped around, staring at him in shock. “Have you finally lost your mind?” “I’m dead serious.” Roman looked me up and down. His eyes were dark, devoid of emotion, but his tone was steady. “I’ll be honest. Your sister dumped me. I’m pissed off. And you’ve been driven into the dirt by the Sterlings. You could say we’re a miserable alliance of victims.” The streetlamp outside flickered yellow, buzzed twice, and burned out completely. I couldn’t see his face clearly. I could only hear his soft scoff and see the glowing red tip of the cigarette between his lips. “Besides, you have absolutely nothing to your name right now. Marrying me isn’t a loss for you. What are you afraid of?” I thought about it. I didn’t say a word. He just waited quietly. Until a cold gust of wind blew past, making me shiver instinctively. Roman took off his custom-tailored trench coat and draped it over my shoulders. In that instant, my senses were flooded with his faint, clean scent of tobacco and cedar. I said, “Okay.” 4 When the wedding news broke, everyone was shocked. They all said Roman only married me to spite Chloe. At our wedding, when Roman said “I do,” I noticed Chloe in the audience. Her eyes were red from crying, and she eventually lost her composure and fled the venue. I glanced at my new husband, but he just smiled. He didn’t even spare her a single glance. It was as if he had never loved her. As if he truly didn’t care. After we got married, Roman treated me incredibly well. He made me his personal secretary, keeping us tethered together every hour of the day. When I asked him why, he just gave me a flirty smirk. “I can’t just leave a gorgeous woman alone at home. What if a thief steals you away? I’d be taking a massive loss.” I laughed and called him ridiculous. I didn’t bother arguing with him. Those years in prison had taken a severe toll. I had suffered too much. My body couldn’t handle any stress. A common cold or cough for a normal person would turn into a severe illness for me. Roman flew in top specialists from all over the world to treat me. When I finally started getting better, he sat by my hospital bed, holding my hand with intense, devout seriousness. “Harper, I bought you. Your life belongs to me now. You are not allowed to die before me.” It sounded like a child’s demand. But seeing the hidden, bitter fear in his eyes, I nodded. I didn’t understand why he looked so heartbroken. But I had long learned not to ask questions, not to pry. “Okay,” I promised. “Till we’re old and gray.” But in the end, the one who broke the promise… Wasn’t me. It was Roman. 5 “Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance was involved in a severe car accident at 3:10 AM. Resuscitation efforts were unsuccessful. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” When I pushed open the doors to the morgue, Roman’s parents were already weeping uncontrollably. I looked at Roman’s pale, bloodless face. In my heart, I could only think: God favored him so much. He gave him wealth, looks, and power that others could only dream of. So why was God so stingy to only give him thirty-four years? What a tragedy. What a tragic waste. I organized Roman’s funeral single-handedly. Throughout our five years of marriage, many people had bet against us. Chloe, driven by a twisted mix of love and hate, was always waiting to watch me become a joke. But no one expected Roman to leave every single asset, every share of his company, entirely to me. His parents had no objections. When they left the reading of the will, their backs were hunched. The vibrant energy they once had was gone forever. A week later, Roman’s attorney, Mr. Davis, brought me the final estate transfer documents. Before leaving, he handed me a digital voice recorder. “This was among Mr. Vance’s personal effects. It was damaged in the crash, but we had it restored. I believe you should hear it, ma’am.” 6 “Harper.” From the recorder, the man’s voice was cool and clear, though mixed with static that made it sound even huskier. “I didn’t marry you to spite Chloe. I married you because I loved you.” I froze. But inside, I felt a strange calm. As if I had known all along. Roman let out a soft laugh. “You probably forgot long ago, but we met way before that diner. “Back in college, you were the untouchable straight-A goddess. You were brilliant, the absolute favorite of all the professors. My own mentor used to talk about you constantly. Every time he finished chatting with your professor, he’d come back, puff out his cheeks, and say—” “Roman, I hate you now. Stay away from me.” He imitated his mentor’s voice. It was incredibly cute. I let out an involuntary laugh. But a second later, the smile faded. Roman continued. “I really hated you back then. But I couldn’t stop looking at you. Guess I was just a glutton for punishment, huh? “But then… you went to prison. For intentional assault. “I didn’t believe it. I was determined to investigate. But it was a shame… the Sterlings wiped the evidence perfectly clean. So, I targeted Chloe.” Oh. The legendary, epic romance between Roman and Chloe that the whole world envied. It was just his excuse to get close to her and find the truth about my imprisonment. But Roman didn’t anticipate that Chloe’s lips would be sealed tight. Still, he eventually found traces of the truth. I suddenly remembered a day before our wedding. Roman had come to me, looking incredibly excited. “Harper, do you want revenge?” “No,” I had shaken my head. “We’re even now.” Years later, I finally understood. He must have found the truth that day. He investigated for my sake. And for my sake, he buried the truth again. It was all for me. My eyes trembled violently. My whole body shook uncontrollably. Tear after tear fell down my face. 7 “But anyway, my acting skills must have been absolutely stellar. I fooled everyone. I even fooled you. “Do you know how cute your face was when I asked you to marry me outside that diner? Never mind, I’m rambling again. “Actually, there’s always been one thing I wanted to ask you—” Roman coughed. He was usually so cold and arrogant, but right now, his voice carried the shy hesitation of a teenage boy. “Harper, is it possible… that you liked me too, even a little bit? “I guess I won’t get to hear your answer in this life. Tell me when I come find you in the next one.” Through the audio, I heard the piercing screech of tires braking. The screaming of a crowd. And then, his final words, clear as day. He said: “Harper, I really… really… really… loved you.” His final syllable even carried a hint of a smile. The emotions I had been suppressing completely collapsed in that moment. In the empty living room, the bouquet of lilies he had brought home a few days ago still sat on the table. I had always loved lilies. He had presented them to me like a treasured prize. “Harper, don’t they smell amazing? I picked every single stem myself. “From now on, I’ll be the only one to change the flowers in our house.” Back then, the soft affection in his eyes was like gentle starlight. How could I say no to him? But the man who made the promise was a liar. He left first. And he took the last trace of life from those lilies with him. The warm sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, landing on my shoulders. I reached up to touch it, but I only felt freezing cold. Today, finally, I saw the monumental, secret love Roman had hidden beneath the ice. But… it was a little too late. 8 Attorney Davis saw Mrs. Vance again a week later. He came to pick up the signed estate documents. He had followed Roman for many years, so he had met Mrs. Vance plenty of times. In his memory, she was always dignified, wearing a gentle smile, like a jade statue—coldly observing the chaos of the world. She didn’t show extreme joy, or extreme anger, or intense emotion. Even when she learned of Roman’s death, she only froze for a moment. Her eyes didn’t even turn red. Roman had treated her so perfectly. Yet all he got in return was a single tear. Mr. Davis often felt it wasn’t worth it for his boss. But when he stepped into the living room this time, he saw Mrs. Vance clutching a bouquet of withered, dead lilies. Her face was paler than falling snow. Seeing him, she didn’t even offer a polite smile. She just stated coldly: “Mr. Davis, donate all his assets to the orphanages. “I don’t want his money.” There was no room for negotiation. Before he left, Mr. Davis couldn’t hold back his question. “Ma’am, did you ever love Mr. Vance?” Mrs. Vance just smiled. She didn’t answer. Many years later, Mrs. Vance became a renowned philanthropist, heavily reported on by the media. She sponsored countless orphans. The next time he saw her was on her deathbed. She was only forty-five, but her hair was entirely white. At that moment, she was looking out the window, as if she saw someone waiting for her. Her face carried the innocent, shy sweetness of a young girl. She said: “I loved him. “I’ve always loved him.” 9 “Harper, Mom is begging you, please save your sister! She’s so young, how can she go to prison?!” “Harper, I know I was wrong! I didn’t mean to do it! I don’t want to go to jail! I’m a massive star—if I go to prison, my whole life is ruined!” As I woke up from the darkness, a cacophony of crying and screaming rang in my ears. My head throbbed violently. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the scene before me. Chloe was kneeling on the floor, sobbing hysterically. Mr. Sterling was holding her, comforting her with a heartbroken expression. And Mrs. Sterling was gripping my hands in a death grip. Her face was covered in tears. Her voice was choked with sobs, but she was entirely serious: “Harper, will you go to prison in your sister’s place? Please?” I stared at her in dead silence. She took it as encouragement. Mrs. Sterling gritted her teeth. “Harper, there were no cameras backstage. It was just you and Chloe. The paparazzi only got a blurry photo of someone’s back. They can’t tell who it is! If you just admit that you accidentally pushed Mia, the police won’t dig any deeper. “I promise you, once you’re inside, Mom will pay off everyone. I won’t let you suffer. And when you get out, the Sterling family will take care of you for the rest of your life.” Right. She said the exact same thing in my past life. But her promise only had a shelf life of one year. Once the promise expired, I was kicked out of solitary confinement into general population. Because I was pretty, I attracted the bullying and vengeance of the other inmates. I was beaten, humiliated, and even poisoned. It was a living hell. But no one ever came to see me. It wasn’t until I was temporarily released for medical treatment due to sodium nitrite poisoning from the prison food that Mrs. Sterling finally came to my hospital bed. That day, she looked down at me from her high horse, her expression faintly impatient. “It’s a prison, Harper, not a resort. Suffering a little is unavoidable. You can’t be this dramatic. “Chloe has a business trip overseas soon. I’m worried about her. I probably won’t have time to visit you anymore.” After that day, I never saw her again. Looking at Mrs. Sterling’s tear-stained face now, I believed she meant what she was saying in this exact moment. But genuine feelings change easily. Her guilt and remorse would eventually warp into deep, resentful fear of me as time went on. I gently pulled my hands out of her grip. “No.” Mrs. Sterling looked horrified. She probably never imagined that I—obedient, sheep-like Harper—would ever refuse her. But when I spoke again, my voice was serious and unwavering. “Mom, I am grateful that you raised me for twenty years. But I don’t want to sacrifice my entire future for it. You can call me selfish, you can call me an ungrateful brat. But I will not take the fall for her.” I was reborn. I didn’t come back to repeat the same nightmare. In my last life, Roman Vance saved me. In this life, I was going to save myself. And then— I was going to walk to Roman’s side with a clean record and my head held high. 10 My refusal threw Mr. Sterling into a rage. He screamed that I was an ungrateful wretch who had leeched off the Sterling family for years but refused to offer a single shred of help when they needed it. Mrs. Sterling and Chloe cried as if the world was ending. When they realized threats and tears wouldn’t work, they grew terrified I would run away. So, they locked me in my bedroom. Only my brother, Asher, remained silent from beginning to end. Just like in my past life. Mrs. Sterling confiscated my phone, but she didn’t know I had a burner. I turned it on. The news that Mia Thorne was in a coma from a severe injury was already trending at number one. The clues were scarce. The paparazzi only had one blurry photo of a back. The caption read: “Chloe Sterling and her sister were the only ones alone with Mia Thorne for a period of time.” The police were probably already on their way to our house. I flipped open my burner phone and instinctively typed out a phone number. Staring at the familiar digits, I froze. But ultimately, I didn’t press call. I didn’t know why. I was a little scared. Scared that the person on the other end wouldn’t be the man I knew. Scared that this was all just a dream, and if I woke up, I’d never see him again. In my past life, after Roman died, I kept paying his phone bill every month. In the dead of night, I would send him text messages. Sometimes mundane things, sometimes complaints. And I would always get the exact same reply: [Harper, I’m here.] It was an auto-reply. He had set it up before he died. Tell me, how could a man be so cruel? So cruel as to grip my heart so tightly that I wouldn’t be able to forget him for ten, twenty, thirty years. I stood up and pulled back the curtains. The warm sunlight poured through the glass, wrapping around me, but carrying a hint of chill. I saw the police cruisers pulling up outside. I saw Mr. Sterling’s dark, warning glare directed up at my window. My hands shook as I finally typed out a text and hit send. [Roman, can you come save me?]

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My sister bound herself to the “The Lazier I Am, The Luckier I Get” System, and forced me to bind with the “The Harder I Work, The Unluckier I Get” System. Because of this, she slacked off every single day, yet remained the perfect, flawless goddess everyone adored. Meanwhile, I studied until the dead of night, yet remained an overweight, clumsy loser. My sister told me that in this lifetime, my only purpose was to exist as a pathetic backdrop to make her look better. But three months before the final college entrance exams… The System malfunctioned. 1 Everyone always said that Selene and I didn’t look like sisters at all. She was beautiful, brilliant, and talented in piano, painting, chess, and ballet. She always ranked first in our grade and was our parents’ absolute pride and joy. I was the exact opposite. Overweight, slow-witted, and incapable of doing anything right. Whenever my parents looked at me, their eyes were full of deep disappointment. “If only Astra were even half as excellent as her sister.” Whenever that happened, Selene would gently stop our parents from scolding me. She would walk up to me, smiling softly, and offer her encouragement. “Astra, as long as you work hard, I’m sure you can be just as amazing as I am.” When she said that, I never understood the strange, unreadable glint flickering in her eyes. 2 For a long time, I actually believed her. I thought that if I just worked hard enough, I could close the gap between us. So, to improve my grades, I stayed up studying and doing practice tests until 2 AM every night. To look better, I went jogging and jumped rope every day after school, and practically starved myself at dinner. But none of it worked. My grades were still dead last in the class. My body only grew heavier. My parents, who used to dote on me, started looking at me with utter despair. “Astra really is a lost cause.” “Sigh… if we only had Selene, our lives would be so much easier right now…” During the holidays, whenever my parents bought gifts, they only bought them for Selene. When I was younger, I used to foolishly run up to my dad and pull on his sleeve. “Dad, where’s mine? Did you forget me?” My dad would shake my hand off, looking annoyed. “This is a reward for Selene’s excellence. She got first place and won a huge award. What did you do?” When I had a dangerously high fever, my parents left me home alone to attend Selene’s parent-teacher conference. Those conferences weren’t even important, but they loved basking in the endless praise the teachers showered on “Selene’s parents.” Even my friends slowly started to hate me. No matter how hard I tried to hold onto them, they would inevitably abandon me to hang out with Selene. Eventually, the entire world revolved around Selene, and she was the only person left who was “nice” to me. Whenever I felt deeply defeated and wanted to give up, she would always be right there, encouraging me with everything she had. “Maybe you just aren’t working hard enough. Or maybe your methods are wrong,” she would say gently. “Why don’t you try a different approach?” People around us would sigh. “Selene, you’re just too kind. You’re the only person in the world who hasn’t given up on your sister.” “Seriously, if I were a natural-born loser like Astra, I would have killed myself and hoped to respawn with better stats.” “Don’t talk about my sister like that!” Selene would frown and scold them playfully, then grab my hand. “Astra, promise me you’ll never stop trying. Okay?” I would nod forcefully, and Selene would smile. I always thought her smile was beautiful. Until I discovered her secret. 3 It was a quiet night during my senior year of high school when I found out Selene was bound to a “System.” I was hiding out on the balcony when I overheard Selene talking to it. “Astra is such an idiot. She’s up studying past midnight again, and she’s still going to rank dead last on the next exam. I’m dying laughing. “Looking back, Mom and Dad picked the perfect names. I’m Selene, the moon, and she’s Astra, a tiny star. Stars only exist to make the moon look brighter. “Thank you, System. Thank you for being with me these past twelve years.” It felt like a bomb went off in my head. Suddenly, memories from the past flooded my mind. Twelve years ago, Selene and I were six years old. Back then, I was pretty and smart. In kindergarten, I was the one singing and dancing on stage, and I helped the teacher clean up after class. Selene was lazy. She had no interest in singing, hated practicing dance, and basically learned nothing. When guests came over, everyone would crowd around me, asking me to perform, praising me for being so bright and talented. They would look at Selene, who stood to the side knowing how to do nothing, and say, “Your sister is so amazing, Selene! You need to work hard to catch up!” Maybe that was the exact moment Selene started to hate the concept of “hard work.” When her System appeared, she decisively chose the “The Lazier I Am, The Luckier I Get” trait for herself. And for me, she chose “The Harder I Work, The Unluckier I Get.” And just like that, over the course of the next twelve years, exactly as she wished, the gap between us widened. She put in zero effort but became more and more perfect. I gave everything I had, only to become more and more miserable. … That night, after learning her secret, I quietly slipped away. I sat outside in the freezing night air wearing only a thin sweater for three hours. My body was numb from the cold, but all I could see in my mind was the smile Selene wore every time she encouraged me to “work harder.” When I was little, I never knew what to call that strange glint in her eyes when she smiled at me. Now I knew. It was called pure malice. The sister I trusted the most. The sister who told me to never give up. It turned out she was just using my blood, sweat, and tears as fuel to power her own glamorous, perfect life. She was the main character of this world. And my only function was to stand in the shadows forever, serving as her pathetic background prop. —But I refused to accept that. I was going to change my destiny. … With nothing left to lose, I thought of a plan and sneaked into the school’s broadcasting room. I put my hand on the microphone switch and started chanting in my head. “Calling System. Calling System.” There was no answer. After all, it was Selene’s System, not mine. But I knew that if it was an otherworldly power, it had to be able to monitor my thoughts. “Calling System—it’s fine if you ignore me, but do you see the PA microphone in my hand? I’m assuming your existence is supposed to be a secret, right? Here’s the deal: if you don’t respond in 60 seconds, I’m going to broadcast your existence on a loop to the entire school. Then I’m going to post it all over social media and write letters to scientific research facilities, telling them to come dissect Selene and her little parasitic System… “60, 59, 58…” I only got to 50 before a burst of static buzzed in my head. Then, a weak, panicked voice spoke up. “…Please don’t do that. No one will believe you anyway.” “How about we find out?” “…What do you want?” “Swap my System with my sister’s.” “I can’t do that. Once my functions are set, they can’t be altered.” I immediately reached to flip the microphone switch. “…Wait! Stop! Have mercy!” the System wailed. “How about this… what if I just do nothing?” “Nothing?” “Right. Even though I can’t alter the functions, I can… malfunction…” I thought about it. That meant, starting today, I would finally get exactly what I worked for. And my sister’s luck from being lazy would vanish. I paused. “Add one more condition.” “What?” “Keep this a secret from Selene. “Let her keep thinking this world is still revolving around her.” 4 The next day, I arrived at school early, just like always. To build up my stamina, I ran two laps around the track every morning. As I jogged slowly around the field, I saw Selene sitting in the bleachers eating breakfast with two of her friends. “Selene, your sister is running again.” “Look at her fat jiggling everywhere when she runs, hahahaha.” Selene replied dismissively, “My sister just has terrible genetics.” Her two friends agreed, their voices filled with envy. “Ugh, I’m so jealous of you, Selene! You eat non-stop all day, chocolates, chips, zero exercise, but you have huge boobs, a tiny waist, long legs, and abs!” “You totally hit the genetic lottery. You just don’t gain weight.” “Why didn’t your sister get those genes? She runs all day and doesn’t lose a pound.” I ignored their mocking and kept running. Starting today, my running wasn’t useless anymore. Unlike before, where I only felt sheer exhaustion, this time I could feel the heat radiating from my forehead and the sweat pouring down my face. My calories were burning. My fat was melting. I was going to get thin. After my run, I grabbed my backpack to head to class. As if remembering something, I turned back and looked up at Selene, who was lounging in the bleachers. “Sister, don’t be late for class.” There was two seconds of silence in the bleachers, followed by a burst of raucous laughter. “Selene, your sister is actually telling you to go to class.” “Even the Dean of Students doesn’t care if you go to class, and she’s trying to boss you around?” “Get lost, loser. You don’t understand the world of geniuses.” It was true. The teachers at our school turned a blind eye to Selene skipping class. The reason was simple: she skipped class, never did homework, never studied, but every time there was a major exam, she always ranked #1 in the entire city. But from now on… she wouldn’t be so lucky. I shrugged and headed to my classroom. I couldn’t wait for first period to begin. The feeling of knowledge actually sticking in my brain was incredible! I soaked up the lessons like a sponge, eager to go home and tackle practice exams. But on my way home, I ran into Selene and the school’s resident golden boy, Sebastian Reed. Sebastian’s luxury sports car was parked nearby. It looked like he was inviting Selene to a party. When Selene saw me walking by, she immediately stepped forward and grabbed my hand. “I’m not going. I have to walk my sister home.” Sebastian was furious. He glared at me. “Astra, did you tell Selene she couldn’t go? “How many more obstacles are you going to throw in our way just because of that stupid marriage contract?” Oh, I almost forgot. This guy—Sebastian Reed, the heir to the Reed empire, the guy Selene was secretly obsessed with but pretended not to care about—was technically my fiancé. 5 When I was five, I called 911 when Sebastian’s grandfather had a heart attack, saving his life. Out of gratitude, Mr. Reed arranged an unofficial engagement between his grandson and me. Back then, Sebastian treated me really well. He would protect me when other kids bullied me. He would carry me on his back when I scraped my knee. When the other kids teased him, calling us a married couple, he wouldn’t get mad. He even shared his snacks and toys with me, saying very seriously, “Since we’re going to get married, what’s mine is yours.” Later, Sebastian moved out of state for school. He only returned when we were in high school. The day I found out he transferred to our school, I ran out excitedly to greet him. That day, Sebastian was surrounded by his new, popular friends. When they saw me, they started cheering and teasing, “Hey Sebastian, your fiancée is here!” In the past, Sebastian would have laughed along with jokes like that. But this time, his face was as cold as ice. He took one look at me and turned his head away in disgust. “Shut up. I barely know her.” After school that day, I locked myself in my room and cried for a long time. Selene, noticing my sadness, immediately ran in to comfort me. “Nobody hates someone who treats them well,” her voice was soothing, almost hypnotic. “If you just try harder to show him you care, I’m sure he’ll be nice to you again.” I believed her. So when Sebastian injured himself playing basketball, I brought him a first-aid kit. And what happened next was… Sebastian took the entire bottle of red antiseptic and poured it directly over my head in front of everyone. He looked down at me, dripping red liquid, a cruel smirk on his lips. “There’s nothing I hate more in this world than a desperate, clinging loser. “Astra, stop making me sick.” After I ran away crying, I told Selene what happened. She frowned and blamed me. “You just used the wrong approach. You made him mad. I suggest you write him an apology letter.” I didn’t want to write one. So Selene ran to our parents and told them I had offended Sebastian and ruined the Reed family alliance. My parents panicked. They forced me to write the letter and hand-deliver it to Sebastian. Sebastian stood in front of the entire class and read the letter out loud like it was a comedy routine. “What does this even mean, ‘I don’t want to ruin the relationship between our families’? Astra, are you trying to use my grandfather to threaten me? “Newsflash: I’m not afraid of anything.” That day, Sebastian went home demanding to cancel the engagement, only backing down after his grandfather beat him with a cane. But his hatred for me only grew deeper. When my parents heard about it, they sighed endlessly. “If only Sebastian were engaged to our Selene instead.” Selene played the understanding daughter. “Mom, Dad, I would never steal my sister’s man. I won’t do anything.” And she truly did nothing. But Sebastian became addicted to her. “Astra’s sister is so pretty, and she actually has a personality,” he’d say. Sebastian started chasing after Selene. The more she ignored him, the more curious he became. The colder she was, the more he felt she was unique. In short, Selene did absolutely nothing, yet effortlessly captured the frantic obsession of the Reed empire’s heir. Everyone said she wasn’t just a natural-born genius, she was a natural-born goddess. It wasn’t until I learned about the System that I finally understood Selene’s strategy. In my relationship with Sebastian, the harder I tried, the more my “unlucky” trait made him despise me. And the colder she was, the more she rejected him, her “lucky” trait made Sebastian fall deeper into obsession. This way, my engagement to Sebastian would inevitably fall apart, and she could step in to marry into the Reed family. Just like right now, as Selene continued to glare coldly at Sebastian. “I don’t want to go to your birthday party. And also—stop coming to find me.” With that, she turned to walk away. In the past, this move always worked perfectly for Selene. According to their usual dynamic, Sebastian’s obsession would spike. He would block her path, begging her to get in the car until she finally relented with a stoic face, sliding into the passenger seat of his luxury car while basking in the envious stares of every student around them. To give Sebastian enough time to stop her, Selene intentionally walked very slowly. And Sebastian did speak up. “If you don’t want to go, then don’t.” He scratched his head, sounding irritated. “Always making it seem like I’m begging you. It gets exhausting.” I watched Selene’s footsteps grind to a violent halt. She couldn’t help but look back, staring at Sebastian in utter disbelief. Just like how my body wouldn’t instantly become skinny the second the System turned off, Sebastian’s feelings for Selene didn’t vanish instantly either. When he saw her abruptly turn around, his foul mood immediately brightened. “See? You actually did want to go. You’re just playing hard to get,” Sebastian smirked, pulling open the car door. “Alright, you win. Get in.” If Selene had gotten in the car right then, her relationship with Sebastian probably would have continued to progress. But Selene just assumed Sebastian’s attitude shift was the System working its magic again. So she let out a cold laugh, putting on her icy-goddess arrogance. “Sebastian, I know your family is rich and powerful, and every girl fawns over you. But I’m not like them. Don’t think I’ll fall for you that easily.” With that, Selene turned and walked away. Her face wore a look of absolute certainty. She knew that her rejection would only make Sebastian think she was even more special. But actually, if Selene had looked back at that moment, she would have seen that Sebastian’s expression wasn’t one of intrigued admiration. On the contrary, his face had turned completely dark. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Sebastian scowled and muttered to his friend in the passenger seat: “Who the hell does she think she is?” 6 Unfortunately, Selene, who was already walking away, didn’t hear Sebastian’s comment. So she remained happily trapped in her beautiful illusion, convinced everything was going perfectly. Even though the System’s responses had become noticeably vague and evasive lately, she didn’t care at all. She continued skipping her study sessions, continued gorging herself on junk food, and continued watching me study late into the night. She offered her gentle encouragement while that mocking, malicious glint danced in her eyes. She didn’t realize that everything was quietly shifting. Soon, the first major city-wide mock exam arrived. The moment the test papers were handed out, I looked at the questions and felt a surge of hot blood rushing through my chest. I could feel it—every ounce of effort I had ever put in hadn’t been wasted. All those vocabulary words I memorized late at night, all those practice problems I solved… they were all stored perfectly in my brain. The only difference was that previously, due to the System’s interference, the knowledge points were locked behind thick mental walls. I couldn’t connect them. But right now, all those walls were shattered. Everything finally clicked. As I looked at the questions, every single one felt incredibly familiar. I had encountered variations of them thousands of times during those endless nights of studying. Now, they were just presenting themselves in a slightly different format, but they were old friends. This was the true meaning of “hard work paying off.” I breezed through the questions one by one. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Selene, sitting diagonally in front of me, rapidly filling in her scantron bubble sheet. Selene always finished her exams much faster than everyone else. I used to think it was because she was exceptionally brilliant. Only later did I realize it was the “luck” granted to her by the System. Whether it was multiple-choice or fill-in-the-blank, whatever answer she randomly guessed turned out to be right. On essays, she could scribble down absolute nonsense and still get partial credit for her “steps.” With the overwhelming power of the “The Lazier I Am, The Luckier I Get” System, even if she didn’t know half the material, she would still score incredibly high. Clearly, Selene was still taking the test exactly as she always did. Soon, the bell rang, and we handed in our papers. Outside the testing room, everyone gathered in the hallway to compare answers. A crowd formed around Selene. “Goddess! Question 8 on the multiple-choice was so hard. Did you put C or D?” Selene replied casually, “C.” The students who picked C cheered immediately, while the D group groaned in despair. Everyone trusted Selene’s authority. As the undefeated academic queen, her answers were basically gospel. I stood nearby with my backpack and asked quietly, “Why is it C?” Selene paused and looked over at me. She probably couldn’t fathom why a loser who failed the easy questions had the audacity to ask about the hardest one. She said impatiently, “Even if I explained it, you wouldn’t understand.” Selene’s friends immediately chimed in to mock me. “Exactly. The calculation is way too complex. With Astra’s brain, there’s no way she’d get it.” “Focus on getting the basic questions right first. You’re never going to get points on a question like that anyway.” I pressed my lips together and sneered internally. The correct answer was absolutely D. Selene had no idea how to solve it. She had just blindly guessed, fully expecting that, just like before, whatever she wrote down would magically become the right answer. I looked at Selene’s aloof, falsely confident expression, feeling utterly amused. But on the outside, I just took a timid step back. “Oh… I see…” Suddenly, someone behind me gently supported my elbow. It was the class president, Peyton Clark. Peyton was also a brilliant student. She had tied for first place with Selene once before. With a polite, investigative tone, she asked Selene, “Selene, I calculated it three times and kept getting D. Could you explain why it’s C?” The students who had chosen D immediately perked up, refusing to give up hope. “Yeah, Goddess, walk us through it!” “Even if I got it wrong, I at least want to know why.” Selene’s face turned pale. She couldn’t explain it. Because she just picked C. After a moment of silence, Selene spoke coldly. “I’m tired. When the answer key comes out, read the explanation yourself or ask a teacher. I’m not obligated to tutor you.” With that, she turned and walked away. In the past, Selene had always acted cold and dismissive toward her classmates, but she was still incredibly popular. But this time, Peyton frowned first. “I just wanted to ask her a question. Just because she has good grades doesn’t mean she has to be so rude.” Other students whispered in agreement. “Yeah, Peyton, your grades are amazing too, and you don’t act arrogant like her.” As they murmured, they started walking toward the cafeteria. I planned to go eat by myself, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bloodstain blooming on the back of Peyton’s pants. I hesitated for a second, then hurried over to Peyton and quietly whispered to her. … In the restroom, I handed Peyton a pad from my bag. “You can tie your school jacket around your waist, and I brought an extra pair of sweatpants. If you don’t mind borrowing them…” My tone was a bit timid. After all, in the past, whenever I tried to help someone, it always backfired. But this time, things seemed different. Peyton looked at me deeply, a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Why did I always think you were so hard to get along with?” She scratched her head. “That’s so weird. You’re actually really nice.” Explaining the truth was too complicated, so I just smiled and turned to leave. But Peyton called out to me. “Are you heading to the cafeteria too?” I turned back and received my first genuinely friendly smile since starting high school. “Let’s go together.”

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