Category: English

For three years, I played the perfect invisible wife at Sebastian Cross’s side. Everyone knew Sebastian was devoted to his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn — and that he treated his actual wife like she was nothing. What no one knew was that I could hear Sebastian’s thoughts. He’d mock me out loud, calling me “worthless.” But in his head, he was screaming, Look at me, baby. I told myself that if I just held on long enough, I could melt the ice around his heart. Then came the charity auction. He took the piece I treasured most — my late mother’s work — bought it without a second thought, and handed it to Evelyn. In the argument that followed, I lost my voice. Permanently. With nothing left inside me, I slid the divorce papers across the table and walked away. And Sebastian — the untouchable, all-powerful Sebastian Cross — stood alone in that empty mansion and completely fell apart. The lights blazed inside Veridian City’s most prestigious charity gala. My eyes were locked on the necklace displayed on the stage — a sapphire piece called Blue Reverie. It was my design. Three sleepless nights of work, poured into every detail for this event. “Five million dollars.” A low, cold voice cut through the silence of the hall. The room erupted. Every head turned toward the man sitting beside me. Sebastian Cross — the youngest powerhouse in Veridian City’s business world. And my husband. I looked at him, caught off guard. Sebastian’s profile was half-swallowed by shadow, his jaw sharp, his expression unreadable. Murmurs rippled through the crowd around us. “Mr. Cross really does look out for Mrs. Cross — five million for his wife’s work? That’s his way of showing support.” “Who said Mr. Cross and Mrs. Cross had a bad marriage? He just threw five million dollars at her.” Something stirred in my chest. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time. Three years of marriage, and he’d rarely given me any dignity in public. Was tonight different? Was this for me? The moment the host’s gavel came down and announced Sebastian as the winning bidder, he stood up. He took the gleaming necklace from the presenter — and didn’t walk toward me. He walked straight to the front row, to a woman in a white gown, delicate and fragile as a wilting flower. Evelyn. Sebastian’s childhood sweetheart. The daughter of his late mentor. “Evie.” Sebastian’s voice was quiet, but the people nearby could hear every word. “The color of this necklace suits your complexion perfectly.” Evelyn covered her mouth, her eyes going glassy. “Seb, this is too much — and this is Ellie’s work. She put so much into it…” Sebastian let out a short, contemptuous laugh. His gaze swept over me, cold and dismissive. “Her work?” His lip curled. “It’s cheap. Tacky. The kind of thing that doesn’t belong in a room like this. Consider it a little toy.” “Put it on. I won’t say it twice.” The whispers around us flipped in an instant — each one landing like a slap across my face. “So he bought it for Evelyn…” “God, poor Mrs. Cross. Her own husband buys her work just to give it to another woman — and then tears it apart in front of everyone.” I pressed my hands into fists at my sides, my nails cutting into my palms. And then Sebastian’s inner voice detonated in my ear. 【That necklace my wife designed — no one else was getting their hands on it. I wasn’t about to let some other man walk away with it tonight.】 【Evie’s just holding onto it for me. She ran interference with the drinks all evening — this is just me being polite. The second we get home, I’m taking it back and putting it on my wife myself.】 【Baby, look at me! I just spent five million dollars on your design. Aren’t you even a little touched?】 I stared at his cold, hard face. I listened to him gloating in his own head, practically bouncing with pride. Three years. For three years, I had forgiven every cruel thing that came out of his mouth — because I could hear what was underneath it. I told myself he was just guarded. That he didn’t know how to show what he felt. That a difficult childhood had twisted the way he expressed himself. I told myself I could fix him. But now, watching Blue Reverie — my necklace — rest against Evelyn’s collarbone, I felt something in me go very, very quiet. I was exhausted. This push and pull, this gap between what he said and what he thought — I was done with it. I stood up. I walked toward him, meeting his startled gaze head-on. “Since Sebastian thinks my work is so cheap,” I said, my voice steady, “then stop torturing yourself. Stop being tied to someone as cheap as me.” “I want a divorce.”

Sebastian’s pupils contracted sharply. Evelyn let out a soft gasp and leaned into Sebastian’s side, her voice trembling. “Ellie, please don’t be upset — this is my fault. I never should have accepted it. Don’t say things like that. You’re not serious…” Sebastian grabbed Evelyn to steady her, his expression darkening instantly. “Elodie, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Making a scene over something this small — where are your manners? Without me, who would ever want a useless woman like you?” His words cut like poison-tipped blades. But his inner voice was trembling wildly. [Why does she want a divorce? Is she jealous?] [I already told her this is just a toy! How could she just walk away from me in front of all these people!] [Baby, please — don’t say things you don’t mean. It’s killing me.] I looked at him calmly, without softening the way I used to whenever I heard his thoughts. “Sebastian, I know exactly what I’m doing.” “I’ll have my lawyer send the papers to your office tomorrow.” With that, I turned and walked out of the venue. I didn’t look back at Sebastian’s ashen face or the curious stares from the crowd. I returned to the empty villa and dragged out my suitcase, starting to pack. I didn’t have much. Three years of marriage, and I’d lived like a guest who was only passing through. Half the closet was filled with Sebastian’s tailored suits. The other half held a few simple outfits of mine. I didn’t take a single thing that was his — just a few of my own old clothes. Finally, I walked to the study, opened the safe, and took out a worn, yellowed sketchbook. It was the only thing my mother had left me — filled with unfinished jewelry designs she’d drawn before she passed. I had just placed the sketchbook into the suitcase when the front door was kicked open with a violent bang. Sebastian stormed in, cold fury radiating off him, with Evelyn trailing close behind. His eyes landed on the suitcase sitting on the floor. A flash of panic crossed his face — but it was quickly buried under rage. “Elodie, look at you. You actually packed your bags?” His inner voice was deafening. [She’s really leaving? She already packed everything?] [No. I won’t allow it. What am I supposed to do if she’s gone?] [Baby, don’t go. I got the necklace back — just look at it, please.] He glared at me, but what came out of his mouth was: “You think I’d care if you left? You were nothing but a prop I used to keep my father off my back.” I zipped up the suitcase, my voice completely flat. “If I’m just a prop, then you should be glad the prop is resigning.” I pulled my luggage and walked out. Sebastian snatched my wrist, gripping it so hard I thought he might snap the bone. “I didn’t say you could leave. Try walking out that door and see what happens.” Evelyn stepped in, her voice soft and coaxing. “Ellie, don’t be like this. Come on, Seb — didn’t you mention before that you’d let me borrow that sketchbook your mother-in-law left behind? I’m working on a new collection and I’m completely stuck for inspiration…” I spun around and stared at Sebastian, unable to believe what I was hearing. Sebastian hesitated, clearly caught off guard that Evelyn had brought it up now. But with me glaring at him like I wanted to tear him apart, he was too proud to back down. He forced a cold smirk. “So what? Everything you have was provided by the Cross family. If Evie wants to look at it, you hand it over.” My whole body was shaking. I had never been this furious in my life. “Sebastian, you bastard!” I wrenched my wrist free and clutched the suitcase tight. “That belonged to my mother. What gives you the right to hand it to her?” Sebastian’s expression twisted. [I was just saying it — I didn’t actually mean it!] [Don’t look at me like that, baby. It scares me.] [But you’re cursing me out over a stupid notebook. You don’t love me anymore, do you?] Shame curdled into rage. He lunged for the suitcase. “There’s nothing I want that I can’t take. Give it to me.” “No.” We struggled violently at the top of the staircase. Evelyn rushed over to help. “Ellie, stop it — I just wanted to borrow it for a few days…” “Get away from me!” I shoved her hard. Evelyn let out a cry and stumbled back two steps, landing on the floor. The palm of her hand scraped against the ground. “Evie!” Sebastian’s face went white. He spun toward me and shoved me — hard. “Elodie, you vicious bitch!” I had no time to react. My balance vanished, and I fell — straight down the staircase.

In the moment the floor disappeared beneath me, I saw Sebastian’s eyes go wide with terror. Thud — I tumbled down the stairs and hit the bottom hard. My neck slammed into the sharp metal edge of the art sculpture standing in the first-floor living room. A searing, tearing pain exploded from my throat and spread through my entire body. The agony nearly knocked me unconscious on the spot. I lay face-down on the floor, gasping desperately for air, but it felt like my lungs had sprung a leak. Warm liquid poured from my neck in a torrent, soaking into the wool carpet beneath me, turning it a deep, vivid red. “Ellie!” Sebastian came flying down the stairs like a madman, dropping to his knees beside me, frantically trying to press his hands over my wound. His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking. His inner voice was nothing but desperate, anguished cries. [My wife! You’re bleeding so much!] [How did this happen? I didn’t mean to — I didn’t mean to push you!] [Please don’t scare me like this. I’m begging you, don’t scare me!] I opened my mouth, trying to say it hurts — trying to say help me. But no sound would come from my throat. Only broken, ragged breaths, and the nauseating stench of blood. “Seb… it hurts so much…” At the top of the stairs, Evelyn cradled her scraped hand, her eyes glistening with tears. Sebastian froze. He looked at me. Then he looked at Evelyn. His inner voice tore itself apart. [My wife is badly hurt — I need to get her to the hospital!] [But Evie’s hand… she’s a pianist. My teacher entrusted her to me on his deathbed. If her hand is ruined, how could I ever face him?] [My wife’s injury is just surface-level. Evie’s hand can’t wait.] Sebastian clenched his jaw and shot to his feet. He stood over me — over my body lying in a pool of blood — and looked down with eyes cold enough to cut glass. “Elodie, you brought this on yourself.” “If anything happens to Evie’s hand, I’ll make you pay for it.” He turned away. Without a moment’s hesitation, he scooped Evelyn into his arms and strode out of the house. The front door slammed shut behind him, sealing me off from the rest of the world. I stared after him, eyes wide with despair, watching him disappear. The blood kept flowing from my throat. I tried to drag myself toward my phone, lying just a few feet away. But the pain had drained every last drop of strength from my body. All I could do was lie there as my vision slowly, steadily blurred. So that was how little I meant to him. I wasn’t even worth as much as a scratch on Evelyn’s hand. Sebastian. You win. I’m done. In the final second before the darkness swallowed me whole, one thing flashed through my mind — something he had said to me once. “Elodie, I’m the one who gave you this life. You owe me a debt you’ll spend every lifetime repaying. You’ll never leave my side.” When I opened my eyes again, everything was blindingly white. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled my nose. I shifted slightly, and a stabbing pain tore through my throat. “You’re awake?” Sebastian’s hoarse voice came from beside the bed. I turned my head. His eyes were raw and red from sleepless nights, dark stubble shadowing his jaw. He looked completely wrecked. The moment he saw my eyes open, he lurched to his feet, reaching toward me — then stopping himself, like he was afraid to touch me. “You… how do you feel? Does it still hurt?” There was a tremor in his voice that he probably didn’t even notice himself. His inner voice came rushing in like a tide. [She’s finally awake. God, I was terrified — I thought I was going to lose her.] [The doctor said her vocal cords are damaged… This is all my fault. I deserve to rot for this.] [Yell at me. Hit me. Just please, please don’t look at me like that — like you’re already dead inside.] I looked at him in silence. There was nothing stirring in my chest. No anger. No hurt. Just a stillness, flat and cold as standing water. I opened my mouth and tried to speak. No matter how hard I pushed, the only thing that came out of my throat was a faint, hollow hiss of air. I went still. The color drained from Sebastian’s face in an instant. He grabbed my shoulders, his voice urgent. “Don’t try to talk. The doctor said your vocal cords are injured — you need to rest.” I watched his eyes slide away from mine, and a quiet dread settled in my chest. I reached for my phone on the nightstand. Sebastian moved to stop me, but I pulled away from his hand and grabbed it myself. I opened the notes app and typed. My throat. What’s wrong with it? I held the screen up in front of him. Sebastian stared at it. His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “It’s just… temporary. You’ll get your voice back in time. I’ve already found the best doctors — they’ll fix this. I promise.” He was lying. I could hear it in his thoughts. [I’m so sorry. The doctor said the damage to your vocal cords is severe. It might be… permanent.] [But I’m not giving up. I don’t care what it costs — I’ll find a way to fix this.] [Please don’t find out the truth. I don’t know if you could take it.] Permanent. I was mute now. Because of the push that sent me falling. Because he had chosen to take Evelyn to get her little scrape bandaged first. I closed my eyes. A single tear slipped down the side of my face. Sebastian panicked, frantically wiping my tears with his hands. “Don’t cry, Ellie, please don’t cry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I just—” He tried to explain, but no explanation could hold up against what he’d done. I picked up my phone again, typed one word, and held it out to him. Divorce.

Sebastian looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He froze completely. He snatched the phone out of my hand and hurled it at the floor. The screen shattered instantly. “I refuse!” His eyes were bloodshot, wild like an animal driven to rage. “Elodie, don’t you dare think about leaving me! You still owe me. What gives you the right to talk about divorce?!” “You hurt Evie, and you haven’t even apologized to her! You’re not going anywhere!” He lashed out with the cruelest words he could find, trying to hide the sheer panic underneath. [I can’t get divorced. I’d rather die than get divorced.] [If she leaves, what’s the point of any of this?] [I’d rather we tear each other apart. I’d rather she hate me. I’m keeping her by my side no matter what.] I watched him fall apart, cold and unmoved. Without my phone, I didn’t even have a way to argue back. But I knew. My mind was made up. Ten years of loving him in silence. Three years of marriage. It was over. I spent a month in the hospital. For that entire month, Sebastian never left my side. He canceled every social obligation and moved his desk into my hospital room. He clumsily taught himself how to make me chicken soup, how to peel apples for me. The cutting remarks stopped. When he spoke, there was even a careful, almost pleading softness to his voice. If I hadn’t known the truth, I might have actually been moved by how devoted he seemed. But I could hear his thoughts. Every day, the same loop played inside his head — guilt, fear, obsession. [She finished half a bowl of chicken soup today. Does that mean she’s forgiven me a little?] [Why won’t she look at me? Is she planning how to leave?] [I need to upgrade the security at the villa. I can’t let her run.] I watched his one-man show with cold, detached eyes. A month later, I was discharged. Sebastian drove me back to that villa — the one that felt like a cage. He took away my passport and my ID. He even unplugged the router. He watched me like I was a thief he couldn’t take his eyes off. Evelyn came by once. She had a small bandage on her hand. Her eyes swept over the thick gauze wrapped around my neck, and a flicker of satisfaction crossed her face. “Ellie, I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened to you.” “Seb does care about you, you know. Don’t be angry with him — he just gets so worried about me sometimes.” Every word was a claim. Every sentence was a knife sliding between my ribs. I sat in my wheelchair and looked at her, my face completely blank. Sebastian walked in just then, carrying my medication. When he saw Evelyn, his brow furrowed hard. “Who let you in?” Evelyn bit her lip, her expression wounded. “Seb, I just came to check on Ellie…” “Get out.” Sebastian’s voice was ice. Evelyn stared at him in disbelief. “Seb, are you seriously snapping at me?” Sebastian ignored her. He walked straight to me, crouched down, and his tone shifted — suddenly, impossibly gentle. “Ellie. Time for your medicine.” Evelyn stomped her foot and ran out in tears. But Sebastian’s thoughts gave away exactly how irritated he was. [Why is Evie showing up now of all times? What if this sets Elodie off again?] [I’ve worked so hard to keep things calm. I’m not letting anyone ruin that.] I looked at the pills he held out to me, and a wave of disgust hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I swung my arm and knocked the medicine bowl out of his hands. The dark liquid splattered all over Sebastian’s shirt. He went still. I pointed at the door. A silent order to get out. Sebastian’s expression shifted. He forced the anger down. “Okay. I’ll go. Don’t get upset — I’ll have someone make a fresh batch.” He stood up and backed out of the room, looking rattled. I knew he was close to his breaking point. He was used to being in control of everything. Used to me falling in line. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. I needed a chance. A chance to get out.

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The heir to the Manhattan elite added both me and my roommate on Snapchat. He was incredibly warm to me. Yet to Cathy, the gorgeous campus queen, he was ice cold. She looked annoyed. “I thought Dominic was here for me. Can’t believe he is chasing you.” I was over the moon. We dated online for two whole months. But the day we finally met in person, his brows pulled together in a tight frown. “Why is it you?” 1 Dominic Lancaster had the wrong girl. All the affection, the late night calls, and the sweet texts meant for Cathy Shawn he had mistakenly given to me. Instead, he had accidentally ghosted the girl he actually wanted. A soft breeze drifted past. He leaned against his sleek Aston Martin, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration. He shot me a helpless, almost pitying look. “You should head back. I will text you tonight.” I forced back the tears burning in my eyes. “Okay.” But I was not stupid. Some things were just too cruel to say to a girl’s face. My dorm was empty when I got back. I crawled into bed and fell into a heavy, suffocating sleep. Loud voices woke me up. Cathy stood in the center of the room, clutching a massive bouquet of deep red roses. Our other two roommates were practically shouting over each other. “So it was just a mix up! I knew it. There was no way a guy like him would pass you up for Jenny.” Cathy offered a gentle, practiced smile. “It was just a misunderstanding.” She turned her gaze to me. “Jenny, I am apologizing on Dominic’s behalf. You are not mad, right?” I sat up, forcing my face into a blank mask. “No.” She let out a soft laugh. “Makes sense. It was only two months of texting anyway. You probably did not even like him that much.” 2 Cathy was wrong. I had been secretly in love with Dominic for years. He was three years older than me. By the time I was a freshman, he was a senior and barely ever on campus. It happened right after freshman orientation. He was back at the university to pick up some paperwork. I took a nasty fall on the concrete steps, and he was the one who drove me to the ER. But I was too painfully shy. I never asked for his number. I never even told him my name. After he graduated, he became a ghost. All I knew was that he came from old money, built a massive tech empire from the ground up, and lived in a world of penthouses and private jets. We were from completely different universes. Until recently. At a frat party, he asked for my socials. He was incredibly attentive. We texted from morning until night, and it did not take long for us to make it official. Looking back now, it was a joke. Every ounce of joy, every sweet good morning text, it was all meant for Cathy. My phone lit up. A text from Dominic. He did not waste a single breath. “Let us just end this here.” “Make sure you delete our chat logs. I do not want Cathy seeing any of it.” “To make up for the mix up, my assistant will wire you fifty grand.” Fifty grand. To a broke college student like me, it was life changing money. To him, it was pocket change. He was literally buying my silence. Erasing everything we had. I stared at the glowing screen for a long time before typing out a single word. “Okay.” I paused, then added a follow up. “I will not say a word about our conversations. You have my promise.” But the message bounced back. Not Delivered. He had already blocked me. Staring at that little red exclamation mark, my hands started to shake uncontrollably. I scrolled up. We had talked about everything. When he was in London for business, he sent me photos of his espresso, told me about the investors he hated, and complained about the jet lag. Once, I asked him to help me with a tricky finance assignment. He texted back saying he was in the shower. I teased him. “Prove it.” He actually did. He sent a photo. His hair was dripping wet, water sliding down the sharp, gorgeous angles of his face. He radiated this raw, dangerous magnetism. My face had burned hot. “Okay, delete it before I die of embarrassment.” A second later, he sent a voice note, his voice dark and thick with amusement. “Why are you scared? You will have to look at it every day eventually.” “I will have you know I have never been with anyone. But doing it with you… I think that would be incredibly fun.” I had literally googled what to expect for my first time that very night. Now, looking at those exact words… It was nothing but a humiliating fantasy. 3 I deleted every single message. I stopped googling his tech firm. I stopped reading his Forbes interviews. But I lived in the same cramped dorm as Cathy, and his name was constantly on her lips. She bragged that they were officially a couple. He had asked her out. That night, he rented out an entire VIP cinema for her. When she finally gathered the courage to reach for his hand, he subtly shifted away. “He acts like a total player, but he is weirdly old fashioned,” she complained to us. “Honestly, he makes me a little insecure. He is too perfect. Women throw themselves at him constantly.” I bit my tongue. Dominic was fiercely loyal. He had no messy exes, no female best friends. The only time he ever made a move was when he asked for Cathy’s number. That was how much he wanted her. One of our roommates chimed in. “You should ask him to take you to the Hamptons this weekend. Just the two of you in a hotel suite. Trust me, he will make a move.” “If you are nervous, invite us along! We can be your wingwomen.” I let out a heavy breath, shoved my AirPods in, and cranked the volume to the max. Just then, a girl from down the hall knocked on our open door. “Is Jenny here?” “Rowan Pierce is downstairs looking for you.” The entire room went dead silent. Cathy’s smile completely vanished. Her brows pulled together sharply. “You know Rowan Pierce?” I shook my head. “I have never met him.” But the girl insisted he had specifically asked for me by name. Panicking that something was seriously wrong, I rushed downstairs. 4 Rowan was waiting by the courtyard. Everyone knew exactly who he was. Filthy rich, top of his class, with the kind of lazy, heartbreaker good looks that made girls ruin their lives. Yet, strangely, the guy had never dated anyone. Freshman year, Cathy had sent someone to ask for his number. She was entirely convinced her looks made her invincible. Rowan turned her down flat. Because of that bruised ego, nobody in our dorm was allowed to mention his name. And now, he was leaning against a brick pillar, furiously typing on his phone. He looked extremely irritated. I walked up to him, shrinking a little. “I am sorry, did I keep you waiting?” He clicked his tongue. He looked up. Whatever he was about to say died in his throat. His eyes flickered over my face for a split second before he narrowed them. “You are Jenny?” I nodded. He fell silent. When he finally spoke, his tone was bizarre. “My cousin’s ex girlfriend?” I froze. It took my brain a solid ten seconds to connect the dots. I had only ever been in one relationship. But I had never associated the word ex with Dominic Lancaster. “You mean Dominic?” I asked cautiously. He nodded. “Yeah.” “Hardly anyone on campus knows about us. Please keep it to yourself,” I mumbled. He agreed. Then he pulled a crisp, folded check from his leather jacket. “He told me to give you this.” Right. The payoff. I took it without hesitating and shoved it in my pocket. Just then, his phone rang. I was standing close enough to see the caller ID. Dominic. Rowan did not even bother stepping away. He answered it with a lazy drawl. “Yeah?” Silence on the other end for a beat. “Did you see her?” Under the pale moonlight, Rowan lifted his gaze and stared right at me. “Saw her. Gave her the envelope.” My chest tightened. Dominic was just calling to make sure the transaction was complete. I did not want to hear the rest. I turned around and slipped quietly back into the building. 5 When I pushed the door open, Cathy was standing right by the window. “I thought Rowan Pierce was actually trying to sweep you off your feet,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “Turns out he was just acting as a delivery boy. He barely even looked at you. What did he hand you anyway?” I stayed quiet. I could hardly tell her it was hush money from her new billionaire boyfriend. “Nothing important.” I grabbed my pajamas and locked myself in the bathroom before she could interrogate me further. When I stepped out, the air in the room was thick with tension. Cathy was doing her skincare routine, her phone on speaker on her desk. She was talking to Dominic. She asked if they could go up to the Hamptons for the weekend. “I will have my assistant book the penthouse suite,” his deep voice replied smoothly. Cathy giggled. “I am going to bring two of my friends along, is that okay?” Over the speaker, the sharp sound of shattering glass echoed through the line. Cathy jumped. “What happened? Are you okay?” Dominic’s voice dropped, sounding a little tight. “Just knocked over a glass. I am fine.” Over the next few days, they called each other every single night. Sometimes the conversations crossed into intimate territory. “Who was your first kiss?” she teased him once. A low, rough chuckle rumbled from the speaker. “Never had one. I have been saving it for you.” Every time they talked, I had to pretend I was deaf, burying my face in my textbooks. I stopped talking to people. Whenever a random guy asked for my number, I would explicitly introduce myself with my full name, terrified of another mistaken identity. By the weekend, Cathy and her two followers packed their designer duffels and left. I finally breathed. But the very next morning, the campus counselor called me in a panic. She needed Cathy for an emergency paperwork issue regarding her scholarship. None of the three girls were answering their phones. “It is extremely urgent. Do you have any way to reach her?” 6 The moment she asked, a cold dread pooled in my stomach. They were with Dominic. What if they had gotten into an accident? My palms started sweating. I had Dominic’s number memorized. I typed it in and hit call. The number you have dialed is unavailable. He really blocked my actual phone number too. He was incredibly thorough. He wanted every trace of my existence completely wiped from his life. Left with no other choice, I sprinted down six flights of stairs to the lobby payphone. By the time I punched in the digits, my lungs were burning. The line rang twice before it connected. I let out a massive sigh of relief and quickly explained that the counselor was desperately trying to reach Cathy. Through the receiver, Dominic’s voice was crisp and detached. “They are down in the restaurant eating breakfast. They left their phones in the room. I will let her know.” “Okay. Thank you.” I was about to slam the receiver down when I heard the distinct click of a metal lighter. Then came his voice, laced with a casual, almost mocking curiosity. “Why did you not come with them?” I froze. A memory hit me like a truck. A month ago, when we were still dating, Dominic had asked if I got along with my roommates. I had not wanted to sound like a loner, so I lied and said we were close. He had asked me about Cathy blowing up his phone, thinking her account was actually mine. I had defended her, saying she was sweet and did not mean to bother him. Every memory that used to feel like a fairytale now felt like acid burning a hole in my chest. I wet my dry lips, preparing to give him a polite, hollow excuse. But before I could speak, a soft voice floated through the phone. Cathy. “Dominic? I am so scared of sleeping alone… can I stay in your suite tonight? I can just take the sofa.” Something inside my brain quietly snapped. Without a single word, I slammed the heavy plastic receiver back onto the cradle. 7 After that weekend, Dominic was suddenly everywhere. We never spoke, but I saw him constantly. He was a busy CEO, yet he found the time to sit in the back of Cathy’s lecture halls. Once, he sat in the row directly behind me. They whispered to each other the entire time. Their voices were low, but the sound of his breathy laughs ruined my focus for the entire morning. Halfway through the lecture, my pen rolled off my desk. I bent down to grab it, my fingers brushing against another hand. His hand. He paused, his long fingers wrapping around the metal pen. He placed it squarely in my palm. “Here.” His tone was completely empty. Beside him, Cathy was glaring daggers at my back. My heart was a mess. When class ended, I looked down at my notebook and realized with absolute horror that I had unconsciously scribbled Dominic’s name in the margins. Panic flared in my chest. I grabbed my white out. Suddenly, a wave of scalding heat splashed violently across my back. Searing pain tore through my skin. I shrieked and spun around. Cathy was holding an empty tumbler. She widened her eyes in a perfect picture of innocence. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! My hand slipped. But the water was cold, right? You are fine. I will pay for the dress.” “It was literally boiling!” I choked out, tears of pain welling in my eyes. “You did that on purpose.” Cathy offered a pathetic, victimized smile and looked at the guy standing next to her. “You saw it, right? It was cold water.” The guy, desperate to get in Dominic’s good graces, nodded vigorously. “Yeah, totally cold.” Right at that moment, Dominic walked back into the room. He had stepped out to take a business call. Seeing the commotion, his dark brows pulled together. “What is going on?” The brown nosing classmate immediately spun the story in Cathy’s favor. Dominic’s cold gaze slid over to me. He clearly had somewhere more important to be. He chose the most efficient, soulless way to handle it. “I will have my assistant drop off a new dress for you later. Cathy did not mean it.” He paused, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. “But lying to play the victim is not a good look on you. Is it, Jenny?” My breath hitched. The burn on my back throbbed in agony, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest. “Got it.” Between Cathy and me, no matter what the truth was, he was always going to choose her.

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I died ninety-nine times on a luxury cruise ship. Every single time, the ship struck the rocks and sank at exactly midnight. And every single time, I failed to find the traitor responsible for the disaster. Ninety-nine loops. Trapped in a cycle with no way out, my body worn to nothing and my mind on the edge of breaking. When the hundredth loop began, I gave up. I stopped fighting. All I wanted was to spend my last few hours holding my brand-new wife in my arms. But the moment I pulled her close, my hands found something hidden beneath her elegant evening gown — something ice-cold, hard, and already inflated. A miniature life vest. Suffocation. My lungs felt like they were being stabbed by hundreds of red-hot needles all at once. The freezing seawater was alive — coiling through my nose and mouth, forcing its way down my throat like serpents. I thrashed wildly, arms and legs flailing in the pitch-black deep, grasping at nothing but empty water. My consciousness began to slip. The world around me dissolved into a vast, endless blue. Then — silence. Dead silence. … “Haah—!” I jolted upright in bed, gasping, my entire body soaked through with cold sweat. The soft velvet blanket slid off my shoulders. No salt, no brine — just the faint, calming scent of premium agarwood incense drifting through the air. No crashing waves — just the low, steady hum of the cruise ship’s engines. I wasn’t dead. I was back. I turned my head and stared at the priceless Patek Philippe custom clock sitting on the nightstand. The second hand ticked steadily. 8:00 PM. This was the hundredth time I had woken up at this exact hour, in this exact bed. “Eleanor, did you have a nightmare?” The bathroom door swung open softly. Victoria stepped out in a cloud of warm steam. She wore a silky wine-red robe, her damp hair falling loosely over her bare shoulders, her breathtaking face full of concern. Just the sight of her made my racing heart begin to slow. For the past ninety-nine loops, I’d run around this ship like a madman. I’d tried warning the captain. I’d tried forcing the ship off course. I’d even tried blowing up the engine room to stop it entirely. None of it worked. No matter what I did, the moment midnight hit, that deafening crack would tear through the hull. Water would rush in. The ship would capsize. And everyone would go down screaming. I was exhausted. Too tired to even lift a finger. If fate couldn’t be changed, then I wasn’t going to spend my last four hours fighting it. I just wanted to be with the woman I loved most — and go quietly. “It’s nothing. Just a bad dream.” I managed a tired smile, threw back the covers, and walked straight toward her. I opened my arms and pulled her close. Her body was soft, carrying the clean scent of her body wash — a smell I had never stopped loving. I wanted to bury my face in the curve of her neck and breathe in this last moment of warmth. But the second I tightened my arms around her, my hand caught on something at her back. Beneath the soft silk of her robe — something hard. Something that had no business being there. It was… After ninety-nine times fighting to survive in the water, I recognized the feel of it instantly. A compact, body-hugging, military-grade inflatable life vest！ And it was already partially inflated — primed and ready to deploy. It was 8:00 PM. Four full hours before the ship would hit the rocks. Outside, the sea was perfectly calm. The sky was full of stars. So why was my brand-new wife wearing a hidden life vest under her robe?

“Ow, Eleanor — you’re holding me too tight.” Victoria pulled back with a soft pout, trying to wriggle free from my arms. I forced down the icy dread spreading through my chest and slowly let go. “Sorry. The nightmare felt too real. I’m still not quite myself.” I stepped back half a pace and kept my voice easy, my eyes catching the brief flicker of unease in hers. Ninety-nine brushes with death had sharpened my instincts. She was nervous. “Let me pour you something to take the edge off.” She turned and walked quickly toward the bar in the corner of the room. Watching her go, my mind shifted into overdrive. The ship striking the reef. A situation with no way out. A wife who had already fastened her life jacket. None of this was a coincidence. Could it be — the one who caused this ship to go down wasn’t some stranger hiding in the shadows. It was the woman who shared my bed. How could that be possible?！ We’d been together three years. She stood by me through the darkest days of Vance Group. She was gentle, warm, and endlessly understanding — the only light in my life. But what I felt on her back when I held her was real. If you want to keep up the act, I’ll play along. I wanted to see what she was truly hiding underneath that soft, loving face. “Vicky, I want that bottle of ’82 Lafite. It’s at the bottom of my suitcase.” I sank onto the sofa, my voice lazy and unbothered. “Of course. I’ll go grab it.” She set down her glass and disappeared into the walk-in closet. The moment she crouched down and started digging through the suitcase, I shot to my feet and crossed the room to her vanity table. My eyes went straight to her Hermès makeup bag — the one that never left her side. I unzipped it. Lipstick, foundation, perfume… everything looked perfectly normal. But I didn’t stop. I pressed my fingers firmly along the bottom edge of the bag. Click. A faint, sharp snap. The bottom of the bag swung open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside, lying completely still, was a black satellite phone. No brand markings. No logo. I drew a slow breath, picked it up, and pressed the power button. The screen lit up. No lock screen — it went straight to the home screen. One message. Received ten minutes ago. Sender: [Hound] “Bottom explosive device is armed. Timer set: 23:59. Target asset transfer protocol is active. Put your life jacket on and wait for extraction.” It hit me like a bomb going off inside my skull. Explosive device！ Asset transfer！ Target！ There was no reef. This ship was deliberately blown up. And I — I was the “target.” All ninety-nine times I nearly drowned. All ninety-nine times I clawed at the edge of madness and despair. Every single one of them had been a carefully planned murder. A savage rage at being betrayed by the person I loved most slammed into a bone-deep grief, and together they swallowed me whole. I gripped the satellite phone so hard my knuckles turned white. “Eleanor, I’ve got the wine—” Victoria stepped out of the closet, red wine in hand. Her words died in her throat. She saw what I was holding. The warmth drained from her face in an instant. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints. The air in the room dropped to absolute zero.

“What is this?” I held up the satellite phone, my voice so calm it even scared me. Victoria stood frozen, her body trembling slightly. But within two seconds, the panic on her face disappeared — replaced by a chilling composure I had never seen from her before. “Since you’ve already seen it, I won’t bother pretending.” She casually tossed the priceless bottle of wine onto the carpet. The red liquid spread across the fibers like blood. “Eleanor Vance, you’re a sharp businessman. But you’re too sentimental — and that is your fatal flaw.” She walked to the sofa and sat down, elegantly lighting a slim cigarette. “Who put you up to this?” I gritted my teeth and stepped toward her. “You don’t need to know that. All you need to know is that by the end of tonight, everything in Vance Group will change hands.” She blew a slow smoke ring, her eyes full of mockery. “You think you can kill me on this ship?” I laughed coldly. Over the course of ninety-nine loops, I had honed my skills to the level of a trained assassin. Taking down one woman? Three seconds, tops. “Kill you? No, no, no — why would I want to get my own hands dirty?” Victoria laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. “You’re going to ‘accidentally’ die in a shipwreck, right in front of the entire ship — the tragic CEO who never saw it coming.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Ding-dong. “Eleanor, it’s the Captain. Your dinner reservation is ready.” The voice from outside the door was deep and steady — the voice of this cruise ship’s captain. In previous loops, I had begged him for help countless times. He always brushed me off with the same dismissive, by-the-book indifference. I walked over and yanked the door open. The Captain stood outside in a crisp white uniform, wearing his professional smile. Behind him, two waiters pushed a service cart. “Eleanor, this is the French baked lobster you specially requested—” “Shut up.” I cut him off cold, my eyes fixed on his face like a blade. “Captain, I remember very clearly — at the welcome dinner on the first night of this voyage, you told me personally that you have a severe shellfish allergy. You said even the smell gives you hives.” I pointed at the enormous red lobster on the cart and said, word by word: “So tell me — why are you the one personally delivering this to my cabin?” The smile on the Captain’s face froze. Fine beads of cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead. “I… I…” He stumbled over his words, his eyes darting uncontrollably toward Victoria on the sofa. “Because he’s not the real Captain!” I slammed my foot into the service cart and sent it crashing to the floor. Scalding broth splattered all over both waiters. “You’re all in on this together!” It finally made sense. Why no matter how many warnings I gave, the crew never reacted. Why the ship had drifted so far off course without a single person finding it strange. Because everyone on this ship — from the captain down to the waiters — was a player in this murder plot. Clap. Clap. Clap. Victoria sat on the sofa and applauded slowly. “Brilliant. Truly brilliant, Eleanor. You’re even sharper than I gave you credit for.” She stood up and stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. “But even now that you’ve figured it all out — what does it change? Do you really think you can escape?” Her words had barely left her lips when the two waiters — still grimacing from the scalding broth — suddenly reached inside their jackets and pulled out silenced pistols. The barrels pointed straight at my head.

“Kneel.” The fake captain tore off his mask of civility, his face twisting with rage as he screamed at me. I stared down the two dark gun barrels and didn’t move. My mind was running at full speed — calculating distances, angles. “I said, kneel!” He stepped forward and raised his radio, swinging it down toward my head. Now！ I ducked sharply, dodging the blow, and launched myself forward. I grabbed the wrist holding the radio and twisted hard. Crack. The sound of bone snapping was sharp and clean. “AHHH—!” The fake captain let out a blood-curdling shriek. I swung his massive body in front of me, using him as a human shield. Phff. Phff. Two muffled shots. Both bullets hit the fake captain square in the chest. Blood bloomed instantly across his white uniform. In the split second the two hitmen hesitated, I shoved his body aside, rolled into a tactical dive, and snatched a dinner knife off the floor. It left my hand like a flash of lightning. The blade buried itself in the left hitman’s throat. He clutched at his neck as blood poured between his fingers, then dropped straight down. The hitman on the right went pale. He barely started to swing his gun around before I was already on him — a vicious knee strike connecting hard with his jaw. Thud. He flew off his feet and slammed into the wall, out cold. Five seconds. Start to finish. This was muscle memory forged across ninety-nine deaths — beaten into me through countless beatings and killings. I was breathing hard. I picked up the handgun from the floor, turned around, and pointed it straight at Victoria. She stood completely still, staring at the blood and bodies scattered across the floor. Not a trace of fear on her face. Instead, she smiled — a strange, unsettling smile, like someone who already knew exactly how this would end. “Nice moves, Eleanor.” She even stepped forward, pressing her forehead directly against the barrel. “Go ahead. Shoot me. Kill me.” Her eyes were full of challenge. “You think I won’t?” I kept my finger on the trigger. Rage burned in my chest. “Oh, you would.” Victoria’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “But if you kill me, you won’t make it out either.” A mocking smirk tugged at the corner of Victoria’s mouth. “Eleanor — doesn’t it seem strange to you? Why do you always wake up again at eight o’clock every time you die?” My pupils snapped tight. She… how did she know about the loop? I had never told a single person. “Did you actually think this was God giving you a second chance?” Victoria laughed — loud, raw, and cruel. “Don’t be naive. There is no such thing as a time loop.” “Everything you’ve been experiencing — this ship, this ocean, me — all of it is fake！” She threw her arms wide, like she was unveiling a masterpiece. “Welcome to the Abyss System, Eleanor.” “It’s a virtual reality interrogation chamber hardwired directly into your brain.” “You’re not at sea at all. Right now, you’re lying in a stasis pod in Vance Group’s underground lab, with electrodes planted all over your skull.” The words hit me like a wrecking ball. Virtual reality？ Neural interrogation？ The room spun around me. “That’s… that’s not possible…” My voice came out barely above a whisper. The gun trembled in my hands. “Why not?” Victoria pressed closer. “You’re holding the highest-level master access codes for Vance Group. We’re talking about wealth large enough to buy a small country.” “But your willpower is too strong. Standard truth serums and physical interrogation don’t work on you.” “So they built this system.” “To put you through the most hopeless deaths imaginable, over and over, in a virtual world. Grinding down your mental defenses one loop at a time.” “Until you break completely — and hand over the codes.” She pointed to the clock on the wall. “The ship sinking at midnight is the system’s forced restart protocol. Every restart causes irreversible damage to your brain.” “Ninety-nine times, Eleanor. Your neural pathways are stretched to the breaking point — like a rubber band about to snap.” “This is the last loop. If you don’t hand over the codes, your brain will flatline at midnight tonight. And in the real world, you will be a vegetable. Forever.”

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1 In my past life, when my sister fled her wedding, Ernie Crawford didn’t flinch. He simply married me instead. Afterward, he was impeccably polite—the perfect gentleman. Then news came: my sister nearly died in childbirth overseas. Ernie locked himself in his study, smoking till dawn. The next day, endless boxes of premium vitamins, supplements, and rich foods arrived. I thought he cared about my future pregnancies. That warmth lasted until I nearly died delivering an oversized baby, forced by all that nutrition. When he heard I’d survived, his eyes were hollow. “She must have suffered so much,” he murmured. Later, my sister complained her baby pulled her hair. That night, Ernie hacked off mine with shears, calling it practical for newborn care. When she sprained her ankle, I fell down stairs, in a cast for three months. When she cut her finger chopping vegetables, he shattered a crystal glass into my palm. News broke: my sister died in a car crash abroad. Ernie dragged me to the city’s highest suspension bridge, plunging us into icy water. His last words: “You were only ever her shadow. If she’s dead, you have no right to breathe.” I woke back in the moment he came to finalize our engagement. Stella had already slipped away. He looked at me coldly. “It’ll have to be you.” A laugh escaped my lips. “Mr. Crawford, I already love someone else. Find your replacement elsewhere.” My words hung in the air. Ernie’s gaze swept over my face like I was completely invisible. He turned slightly and gave my father a stiff nod. “Then it is settled. The engagement gifts will be delivered tomorrow.” My parents were drowning in guilt over Stella’s escape. They nodded eagerly, practically bowing to him. I gripped my phone tight under the table. My fingers were trembling as I typed out a quick message to Roman Blackwood, the undisputed, ruthless king of the Manhattan elite. “Hello. Let us get married.” My heart was lodged in my throat. A second later, the screen lit up. “Done.” “Next Wednesday. It is a perfect day for a wedding.” I stood up and shoved the phone screen right in front of Ernie’s face. “Ernie, I told you I have someone.” He smacked my hand away without even blinking. The phone clattered onto the hardwood floor. He looked at my mother instead and said to make sure the wedding favors were from Maison Blanc. Stella always loved their macarons. My parents chimed in instantly. They said it was a beautiful way to include Stella in the ceremony. My chest heaved. I told them I was not marrying him. Ernie acted completely deaf. He stood up, adjusted his cuffs, and offered a polite nod. “Mr. and Mrs. Astor, I will take my leave.” I raised my voice, calling his full name. He finally looked at me. His eyes were like chipped ice. “My assistant will pick you up tomorrow for your dress fitting. Be on time.” A sickening wave of exhaustion washed over me. He was always exactly like this. He could remember every single reason Stella ever frowned. If her tone over the phone was slightly off, he would drive three hundred miles in the dead of night just to see her. But I was nothing more than a stray dog to him. When he was in a good mood, he might pat my head. When he was upset, I was less than dirt. In his eyes, I had no right to complain, no right to say no, and absolutely no right to exist as my own person. I stared at his retreating back and let my voice drop to a freezing whisper. “Ernie, you do not love me, and I do not love you. There is no need to force this.” His footsteps stopped. He turned around. His brow was heavy with dark annoyance, like he was tolerating a buzzing fly. “Wendy.” His tone was flat. “Playing hard to get is cute once or twice. Anything more than that, and you will drain my patience.” He checked his platinum watch. “Tomorrow. Be on time. Pick a dress in thirty minutes and do not waste my employee’s valuable time.” Our marriage was nothing but an administrative task to him. Something to be handled in thirty minutes. He walked out the door before I could even take a breath. The moment the lock clicked, my father’s face twisted in rage. He screamed at me, asking if I was out of my mind. He demanded to know what garbage I was spouting about having someone else. He said if I ruined this alliance after my sister ran away, the Astor family would be the laughingstock of high society. I stared back at him, my blood boiling. “Stella gets to run away. Why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb?” A sharp crack echoed through the room. The force of my father’s slap threw my head to the side. My cheek burned like fire. He pointed a shaking finger right between my eyes. “Do you really think you are on her level?” “Your sister is brilliant. She knows what she wants. If she wants to leave, I let her leave. But you? What have you ever done besides trail after Ernie like a pathetic puppy?” “He is willing to take you, and you actually have the nerve to put on airs.” My mother sighed heavily from the sofa. “Wendy, throwing a little tantrum is cute, but you need to read the room. No man will put up with a woman who does not know her place.” My father scoffed. He ordered me to go to the fitting tomorrow and apologize to Ernie. I pressed my hand to my stinging cheek and said absolutely nothing. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I was not just Stella’s replacement to Ernie. I was her replacement to my own parents, too. The next day at the bridal boutique, Ernie was a no-show. His executive assistant, Vanessa, escorted me inside while casually picking at her expensive manicure. “Miss Astor, please hurry. Mr. Crawford only authorized thirty minutes for this.” I pointed at the plainest white gown hanging in the corner. “That one. I am in a rush.” Roman was texting me, asking about our venue preferences. Vanessa did not move an inch. “Miss Astor, Mr. Crawford is not here. You can drop the act.” I frowned. She looked at me with a mocking smirk. “You chased him for years. You dreamed of this day. And now you are pretending to be aloof?” “You are just picking a cheap dress on purpose so I will call him, hoping he will feel guilty and rush over here to comfort you.” She laughed out loud. “Your pathetic little tricks are exactly what everyone said they were.” I did not know who “everyone” was, and I did not care. I ignored her, grabbed the heavy silk gown, and walked straight into the fitting room. I had just unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it when the thick velvet curtain was violently ripped open from the outside. My nearly naked body was exposed to the entire boutique floor. “Miss Astor!” Vanessa gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her voice was loud enough to echo across the high ceilings. “Why would you throw the curtain open? Do you get off on exposing yourself? Is this how you usually seduce Mr. Crawford?” Dozens of judging eyes snapped toward me, burning into my skin. I snatched the dress up to cover my chest. Without a single second of hesitation, I swung my free hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. The boutique fell dead silent. Vanessa shrieked. “How dare you hit me?” She whipped out her phone, her voice instantly trembling with fake tears. “Mr. Crawford, I am so sorry. I must have served her poorly. Miss Astor is furious…” Less than ten minutes later, Ernie’s private security detail stormed the floor. Before I could even speak, two massive men grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back and forcing me to bend forward. A third bodyguard stepped up to Vanessa and bowed his head slightly. He told her Mr. Crawford sent his apologies for her distress. He cast a freezing look at me and muttered that some people needed to learn a lesson. Vanessa wiped her fake tears, a triumphant flush spreading across her cheeks. I was dragged out of the boutique, shoved into the back of a tinted SUV, and driven straight to a remote estate in the hills. They tossed me onto the living room floor like a bag of garbage. My knees slammed into the edge of a marble coffee table. The pain made me gasp for air. Footsteps echoed behind me. Ernie walked in, looking down at me from his towering height. “You are not even my wife yet, and you are already throwing your weight around?” His gaze was completely devoid of warmth. “Let me make something very clear. The women who scrub my floors have more status in my world than you do.” “You better learn to play nice with my staff, or your life after the wedding will be a living hell.” My fingernails dug into my palms. “Your assistant ripped the curtain open while I was changing. She exposed me on purpose.” “Enough.” He cut me off, a flicker of pure disgust crossing his face. “Have you ever considered that you are the problem? When your sister was by my side, my staff never acted like this.” He turned on his heel and barked an order at the guards by the door. “Cut the water and the power. Let her sit in the dark and think about what she has done for three days.” I lunged for the door, but the heavy oak slammed shut right in my face. The deadbolt clicked. Three full days. I grew so thirsty I drank the stale, murky water sitting in a crystal flower vase. I was so starved I ripped the bitter leaves off a decorative potted plant and chewed them until my jaw ached. I lost track of time. Eventually, the electronic keypad on the front door beeped. A tall figure stumbled inside, reeking of expensive scotch. It was Ernie. His glassy eyes locked onto me where I was curled up in the corner of the dark room. He suddenly dropped to his knees and crushed his burning lips against mine. My entire body froze into a block of ice. A second later, his lips brushed against mine as he whispered. “Stella.” That single name felt like a jagged blade twisting into my chest. I shoved him away with the last ounce of strength I had left in my starving body. My voice was trembling. “Look at me, Ernie. Look at exactly who I am.” He blinked, his eyes finally focusing on my face in the dim moonlight. He leaned in again, his mouth curving into a cruel sneer. “Congratulations. You finally have me exactly where you want me. You must be dying of excitement.” I pulled my knee up and drove it violently into his stomach. I snatched a silver fruit knife off the coffee table and gripped the handle tight. “Do not touch me.” Ernie’s face darkened instantly. He stared at me for several long seconds. Then, a cold laugh escaped his throat. “I have to admit, you play the tortured victim quite well.” My grip on the knife stiffened. “All this playing hard to get… you are just copying your sister’s personality to turn me on, aren’t you?” He lunged forward and gripped my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin. “Drop the pathetic act. You will never replace her.” “Take your clothes off. Do your job tonight, and I will give you the dignity of being my wife. Otherwise.” Before he could finish his threat, I swung my arm. The blade sliced across his forearm. Hot blood immediately soaked through the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt. I stared dead into his eyes. “I said, do not touch me.” Ernie looked down at his bleeding arm in absolute disbelief. When he looked back up at me, a terrifying rage was boiling in his eyes. “Fine, Wendy.” He laughed, a dark, venomous sound, and stood up. “Do not regret this.” He walked out, leaving the front door wide open. I stumbled out into the cold night air and somehow made it back to my family’s house. The moment I walked in, my father hurled his porcelain teacup at my feet. It shattered into a hundred pieces. “You stabbed Ernie?” His finger shook as he pointed it at my face. I tried to explain, my breathing ragged. “He locked me up for three days. No food, no water. He tried to force himself.” “It is a privilege that he even wants to touch you.” My mother cut me off, her face twisted in disappointment. “So what if he locked you up? You are about to be his wife. If he wants to lock you up for the rest of your life, you smile and take it.” My father stepped closer. “You are nothing compared to your sister. Why won’t you use your body to tie him down while you still have your youth? How did I raise such a useless idiot?” I looked back and forth between their furious faces. It felt like a giant hand had reached into my chest, squeezing my heart until every last drop of warmth was gone. My father slammed his hand on the dining table. “You will stay in your room until the wedding. Learn some manners so you do not embarrass us any further.” Three days later, on Wednesday, the wedding day arrived. My parents practically dragged me to the cathedral. Nine o’clock passed. Then ten. Then eleven. Ernie did not show up. The pews were packed with New York’s elite, and the whispers grew deafening. “I heard Ernie found a girl downtown who looks just like Stella.” “Yeah, apparently she threw a fit this morning and refused to walk. Ernie carried her into his corner office in front of the whole board. They are probably still in there.” “Wow. So what happens to the Astor girl?” My father stood behind me. He threw his glass of champagne onto the marble floor. “When Stella was around, Ernie never dared to pull a stunt like this.” He grabbed a handful of my veil and yanked my head back. “You useless piece of trash. You are making us look like fools.” My mother sat beside me, dabbing fake tears with a tissue. “I gave birth to both of you. How did you turn out so defective? You cannot even keep a man’s attention for one day.” I sat in the front pew, perfectly still. The heavy oak doors creaked open. Vanessa walked in, a smug smile plastered across her face. Behind her, a bodyguard was struggling to hold a massive, mud-covered hunting hound on a thick leather leash. He let the dog go, and it immediately shook itself, splattering wet mud all over my pure white gown. The smell of wet dog and swamp dirt filled the air. “Mr. Crawford was delayed by an urgent matter,” Vanessa announced, projecting her voice. “Miss Astor, you will have to walk down the aisle with Duke. Mr. Crawford will arrive later for the ring exchange.” My father shot out of his seat. “Walk down the aisle with a dog? Are you out of your mind?” Vanessa crossed her arms. “Mr. Crawford said she marries the dog, or the wedding is off. Your call.” My father’s protests died in his throat. He glared at me with pure venom, blaming me for every ounce of humiliation he was feeling. My mother shoved my shoulder. “Listen to Ernie.” A twisted sense of relief washed over her face. “Thank God it is you up there. If Stella had to go through this, it would break my heart.” I looked at her. I did not say a single word. I looked down at my phone, dropped a location pin to Roman, and locked the screen. I linked my arm through my father’s and walked down the long, agonizing aisle toward the muddy dog. He handed me off to the hound. Behind me, the sound of camera shutters and muffled laughter echoed through the vaulted ceilings. “She is so desperate for his money.” “She brought this on herself. She chased him for twenty years. She would probably marry a pig if it meant getting the Crawford last name.” Just as the priest cleared his throat to start the mockery of a ceremony, the deafening roar of a sports car engine rattled the stained glass windows. I stood up and turned toward the entrance. Ernie stepped out of a sleek black car. In his hand, he held a pair of sharp steel scissors. “Stella cut her hair into a bob today. She is vacationing in Monaco.” He walked up the aisle and held the scissors out to me. “Cut your hair. Take off the dress. Put on some jeans and a T-shirt.” I stood my ground. I did not move. My father shoved me hard from behind. “What are you waiting for? Do what he says.” I still did not move. My eyes drifted past the crowd, looking out the massive open doors toward the winding coastal highway below the church. Ernie let out a cold laugh. “You really never learn, do you?” “Wendy, save your cheap tricks. Do you honestly think acting stubborn is going to make me desire you?” He threw the scissors at my chest. They clattered to the stone floor. “Playing hard to get is only fun until you become a pathetic joke.” I kept my mouth shut. My ears caught a new sound. The deep, heavy rumble of motorcycles. Slowly, a flash of brilliant red appeared on the horizon. A custom Ducati tore up the mountain road, kicking up a storm of dust. And right behind it was an endless, terrifying convoy of over a hundred matte-black luxury SUVs. “Who is that?” “What is going on? Did someone else rent out the mountain today?” The guests erupted into a frenzy of panicked whispers. Ernie’s brow furrowed into a deep, angry V. I stepped over the scissors and walked straight toward the church doors. Ernie’s face went dark. “Wendy. Get back here right now. Do not test my temper.” I ignored him completely. The red motorcycle skidded to a halt right in front of the cathedral steps. In one fluid motion, the rider wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him. Behind us, over a hundred black cars laid on their horns in perfect unison. The sky exploded. Daylight fireworks shot into the air, raining gold and crimson smoke over the entire estate.

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I always thought I was an ordinary high school student—until a third eye opened at the back of my head. This eye has no blind spots. It sees through people, and it caught my scumbag father cheat with my vicious tutor in the act. They didn’t just want to kill my dying mother—they wanted to stage an “accident” and sacrifice me, all to cash in a expensive insurance payout and buy a house for their bastard son. Cute. They really thought I was a pushover? So I flipped the script and started the hunt. But when I finally stood over their corpses, thinking I could reunite with my mom at last, I uncovered a truth that froze my blood. I’m not a human at all. “Clara Croft, are you hiding? Daddy’s coming to find you!” Walter Croft’s gentle voice drifted in from outside the bedroom door. I clamped a hand over my mouth, crammed into the huge closet in the master bedroom, not daring to breathe. Today was my fourteenth birthday. Dad had taken half a day off specially, saying he wanted to play my favorite game—hide and seek. Just as I waited, giddy, for him to pull the closet door open, a tearing, stabbing pain shot through the back of my skull. Then a strange new field of vision unfolded in my mind. I could see straight through the closet’s thick wooden door—clear as day, I saw everything outside. At the back of my head, a third eye had opened. Walter wasn’t looking for me at all. He yanked his tie loose, desperate, and pulled my young, pretty private math tutor, Evelyn Hayes, into his arms. The two of them tumbled straight onto the big bed where my mom slept. “You devil, your daughter’s still home!” Evelyn scolded coyly, giving him a push—but her eyes were pure seduction. “What’s there to worry about? That girl’s clueless. She’s probably crammed in some corner right now, holding her breath.” Walter sneered, his hand already sliding under Evelyn’s skirt. My whole body went cold. My stomach churned. My mom was lying in the ICU, hovering between life and death, and my so-called wonderful father—the one who normally preached morality and never even raised his voice at me—was rolling around in her bed with another woman. I bit down hard on my lip, forcing back the urge to burst out and claw those two hypocritical faces apart. The third eye recorded it all like an HD camera, no blind spots. When they were finished, Evelyn lay against Walter’s chest, tracing little circles with her finger. “When is your wife actually going to die? Didn’t the doctor say it’d be any day now? This baby in my belly can’t wait. You really want your son born as a bastard?” A flash of cruelty crossed Walter’s eyes. “Soon. I’ve already paid off the people at the hospital. Cutting her meds is a matter of days. As for that little dead weight, Clara…” He paused, and his tone turned so cold it sent ice through me. “I took out a high-value accidental death policy on her, I’m the beneficiary. Next week I’ll take her for a drive on the mountain roads. The brakes just have to ‘fail’ a little. We lose the burden, and the payout’s enough to buy our son a big downtown apartment in cash.” Evelyn’s eyes lit up. She smacked a kiss on him. “Babe, you’re so smart! Then we’ll send the mother and daughter off together. At least they’ll have company on the way down.” I crouched in the dark closet, shaking like a leaf. Not from fear. From excitement. A bloodthirsty kind of excitement. You want to kill me? Fine. Let’s see who dies first.

I pretended nothing had happened. By the time I climbed out of the closet, the two of them were dressed together. Walter patted my head, all tenderness. “Clara, you’re so good at this. Daddy looked forever and couldn’t find you. Come on, let’s go see Mom at the hospital.” I nodded obediently, pulling a sweet smile across my lips. “Thanks, Dad.” At the hospital, the room reeked of disinfectant. My mom, Diane Croft, was wasted to nothing, her eyes sunk deep in their sockets—like a withered yellow rose. When she saw us, a faint light flickered in her clouded eyes. Walter instantly put on a face of tender devotion, taking my mom’s hand, his eyes going red. “Diane, how are you feeling today? Clara came to see you.” I looked at his sickening expression and sneered inside. I walked to the bedside and took my mom’s other hand, thin as a stick. Her hand was cold, without a trace of warmth. “Mom, I’m fine, don’t worry,” I said softly. She looked at me, her eyes full of longing and reluctance. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end only shook her head weakly. I couldn’t tell her about Walter and Evelyn’s plot. Her body couldn’t take a blow like that right now. When we left the hospital, Walter took a call. His face shifted, and he made an excuse about an urgent matter at the company and rushed off. I knew it. He was going to see Evelyn. I walked home alone, my mind racing. I was only fourteen. Call the police? With no evidence, who’d believe a fourteen-year-old girl? Tell them I’d grown an eye on the back of my head? They’d just lock me up as a psych case. If the law couldn’t punish them, then I’d do it myself. I got in touch with a seller on the dark web and paid a steep price for a few packets of high-dose rat poison. Back home, I dumped all of it into the single malt whiskey Walter loved. That done, I sat on the couch and quietly waited for my prey to come home. But for days, Walter didn’t touch that bottle. Evelyn was even more wary. Every time she came over, she wouldn’t drink so much as a glass of water. They seemed to have sensed something. And what I sensed was far more dangerous than that.

On the weekend, Walter suddenly suggested taking me hiking in the countryside. “Clara, school’s been stressful lately. Daddy wants to take you somewhere to relax.” He smiled, all warmth. I sneered inside. Here it comes. Mountain roads. Accident insurance. Brake failure. Only he didn’t know—this time, I was the one who’d set the trap. “Okay, thanks, Dad.” I slung my backpack on and climbed into the car, obedient. The car pulled out of the city. The roads grew emptier, the scenery on both sides more and more desolate. Walter drove faster and faster. At a sharp turn, he suddenly wrenched the wheel hard, sending the car straight toward the edge of the cliff. “Oh no! The brakes are out!” he shouted, faking panic. Just as the car was about to break through the guardrail, he shoved the driver’s door open and jumped out. My door, on the other side, had been locked from the start. Bang! The car slammed hard into a big tree at the cliff’s edge. Smoke billowed from the hood, and then flames leapt up. The fire spread fast. The temperature inside the car shot up. I beat at the window, putting on a show of terror, screaming my lungs out: “Dad! Help me! Dad!” Walter stood a few yards from the car, watching me coldly. There wasn’t a trace of pity in his eyes—only the giddy thrill of getting what he wanted. “Clara, don’t blame Daddy. Blame yourself for standing in your brother’s way. Get a better life next time around.” The fire swallowed the cabin completely. The smoke choked me until I couldn’t open my eyes. The heat seared my skin. Just as I thought I really was about to burn to death, a miracle happened. A faint blue glow rose over the surface of my body, sealing the flames and smoke out. I didn’t feel any pain. Even my breathing came easier. What was going on? Was I not made of flesh and blood after all? Before I could think it through, the car suddenly went up in a violent explosion. Everything went black, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital bed. The harsh fluorescent light made my head spin. “A miracle! It’s nothing short of a miracle! A fire that size, and this child only has a few surface burns!” The doctor’s astonished voice rang in my ears. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Walter standing by the bed, his face white as paper. When he saw me wake, he looked like he’d seen a ghost and jerked back a step. A police officer came over with the routine questions. “Sweetheart, do you remember how the crash happened?” I looked at Walter, the corner of my mouth curling into a sneer too faint to catch. He swallowed nervously, his eyes full of pleading. “Officer, I… I can’t remember clearly. I only remember the car suddenly went out of control, and then it caught fire. My dad got hurt trying to save me.” I put on a weak, frail act, tears rolling down my cheeks. The officer comforted me a little, then turned to Walter. “Mr. Croft, you’re lucky your daughter survived. But we’ll be investigating the cause further, so please stay available to cooperate.” After the officer left, only Walter and I remained in the room. The air was dead silent. “What… what exactly do you want?” Walter’s voice trembled. The way he looked at me was the way you’d look at a monster. I put the tears away and fixed him with an icy stare. “Walter, did you really think your plan was airtight? When you jumped out of the car, I saw every bit of it.” His legs went weak; he nearly dropped to the floor. “Clara, Daddy was wrong! Daddy lost my mind for a moment! Won’t you forgive me?” He threw himself at the bedside, begging, a mess of snot and tears. “Forgive you? Sure.” I sneered. “I want you to change the beneficiary on that accident policy to my name. Right now. And I want a supplementary card with no limit. Otherwise, I tell the police exactly how you tried to murder your own daughter.” Walter nodded over and over like a man granted a pardon. “Yes! Yes! Daddy will do whatever you say!” The moment I had the money and the insurance, the first thing I did was go to a flower shop and buy a big bunch of the brightest yellow roses. Then I went to my mom’s hospital room. I pushed the door open and froze. The room was thick with the scent of roses. In the vase by my mom’s bed, there was already a fresh bunch of yellow roses. “Mom, did someone come to see you?” I asked, startled. When she saw me, panic flashed in her eyes. She struggled upright and grabbed my hand, her voice urgent. “Clara, listen to me. You’re in danger right now. Go! Get away from here!” I was completely lost. “Mom, what are you talking about? I’ve already got Walter under control. He wouldn’t dare hurt me.” She shook her head, tears spilling over. With trembling hands, she fished a silver fidget spinner out from under her pillow and pressed it into my palm. “Take this! Spin it counterclockwise three times and you can go back to the past. Spin it clockwise three times and you can go to the future. Remember—you only get three chances. Run! Run as far as you can!” I stared at the finely made spinner in my hand and was sure the illness had muddled her mind. “Mom, don’t scare me…” “Clara, happy birthday, my baby.” She suddenly cupped my face and pressed a cold kiss to my forehead. The next second, the heart monitor let out a piercing, drawn-out wail. A flat line. My mom was dead.

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My brother was only nineteen when he was sent to prison. He stole three pounds of beef from the local butcher shop because our mother had been starving in bed for three days. The butcher insisted on pressing charges and threw my brother to the cops. My mother dragged her sick body to the butcher’s doorstep, dropping to her knees to beg him to drop the case. The owner spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the dirt right next to her. “Stealing is stealing. Three pounds is still a crime.” My brother got a year behind bars. By the time he was released, our mother was already dead. He lost his mind. He was completely, irreversibly broken. Thirty years later, I am the CEO of my own company. One afternoon, a gray-haired old man was brought into my office. His son had embezzled fifty thousand dollars of company funds, and I had handed him straight to the police. The old man’s hands shook violently as he pulled a thick stack of medical records from his pocket. “Boss, I have kidney failure. He is my only son.” “Please, show some mercy. He knows he messed up.” I flipped through the medical files. I saw that painfully familiar name at the top of the page. I slowly raised my eyes. “A crime is a crime. Fifty thousand dollars is still a crime.” 1 “Brian, don’t you think that is a little too cold-blooded?” The office door was violently shoved open. My fiancé and the company’s Vice President, Tristan, marched into the room. His suit jacket was draped over his arm, his brows knitted together in deep disapproval. His leather shoes made no sound against the plush carpet, but his entire aura was aggressively overbearing. “It is only fifty grand. That is pocket change for this company. Do you really need to push a man to the brink of death?” Kneeling on the floor, Gary was shaking uncontrollably. The moment he saw Tristan, his eyes lit up like he had seen a savior. He scrambled across the floor, practically throwing himself at Tristan’s legs, his wails growing even louder. “Please, sir! You have to help me!” “My boy is a good kid! He only did something so stupid because he was trying to pay for my medical bills!” Sobbing, Gary pulled up his faded, yellowed shirt. He exposed a shriveled stomach covered in a dense cluster of needle marks. “Look at this! I have end-stage kidney failure. The dialysis alone costs a fortune every month.” “Derek just could not bear to see his old man suffer! I am the one dragging him down!” Tristan stared at those bruised needle marks. A flash of profound sympathy crossed his eyes. He bent down and gently pulled Gary to his feet. “Please stand up, sir. The floor is cold.” He turned his head, shooting me a blistering, judgmental glare. “Brian! Look at how sick this man is. Do you not have a single shred of empathy left?” “Derek has busted his ass for this company for three years. Even if he made a mistake, he has put in the work.” “He took that money to save his dying father. That is completely justifiable!” I watched their touching little master-and-servant performance. I tapped my index finger against the mahogany desk twice. “Justifiable? If everyone justified stealing like that, how exactly are we supposed to run a business?” “Section three of our corporate handbook is crystal clear. Any embezzlement over ten thousand dollars is immediately handed over to the authorities.” “Tristan, as the Vice President, did you somehow forget the absolute baseline of our company policies?” Tristan’s face darkened. “Rules are rigid. People are alive.” “We are at a critical stage right before our IPO.” “If we send a devoted son to prison over fifty grand when he was just trying to save his dad, how do you think the media will spin it?” “They will brand us as bloodsucking corporate vultures. They will say we drove an old man with kidney failure to his grave!” “Have you even calculated the catastrophic PR nightmare this will cause?” I stared right into Tristan’s self-righteous face. “A corporate image is built on following the law. Not on harboring criminals.” “He stole money from this company. That is a crime.” “Needing medical treatment does not give him a free pass to embezzle.” Gary stood off to the side, wiping his tears. His cloudy eyes secretly sized me up. “Ms. Brian, I know you are a big shot. You don’t need this kind of chump change.” “If you just drop the charges and let my son go, we will sell everything we own to pay you back!” “I will bow down to you!” He made a dramatic motion to drop to his knees again. Tristan grabbed his arm to stop him, whipping his head around to scream at me. “Brian, will you only be satisfied when you force this man into a coffin?!” “I know you are ruthless in the boardroom, but do you have to be this heartless to a dying old man?” The blinds in my office were not fully closed. Out in the bullpen, several employees were craning their necks, whispering and watching the spectacle. Tristan took a deep breath. He seemed to make a decision. He straightened his posture and adjusted his tie. “You are off this case.” “As the Vice President, I have the authority to handle crisis management.” “I will have the legal department drop the charges immediately. We will also issue a five-thousand-dollar donation to Gary as a humanitarian gesture from the company.” I looked at him. A dry laugh bubbled up in my throat. “You want to use my company’s money to buy yourself some good karma?” “What makes you think you can bypass me and issue that order?” Tristan shoved his hands into his pockets. Absolute arrogance dripped from his eyes. “Because I am your fiancé. And I am the second-in-command.” “Brian, women shouldn’t be so aggressively stubborn. You need to know when to back down.” “Listen to me on this. It is the best move for you and the company.” He turned back to Gary, his tone softening into something gentle. “Sir, you go home and get some rest. I personally guarantee Derek’s situation will be sorted out by this afternoon.” Gary trembled with intense excitement. He took two steps back, bowing repeatedly. “Thank you, Mr. Tristan! You are a living saint!” “God bless you!” Right before he walked out the door, he shot me one last look. There was no gratitude in his eyes. Only a smug, victorious provocation. The office door clicked shut. I kept my eyes on Tristan. “Tristan, are you absolutely sure you want to shield a criminal?” Tristan walked up to my desk, looking down at me from his high horse. “I am saving our company’s reputation. And I am teaching you how to be a decent human being.” 2 “Teaching me?” I leaned back in my leather chair, silently studying Tristan. His eyes were swollen with self-important superiority. He genuinely believed he was some compassionate savior descending from the heavens. Tristan ignored my sarcastic question. He turned around, walked over to my desk, and picked up the intercom phone. “Tell Lawson from Legal to come to my office immediately. Bring the corporate seals and draft a formal letter of forgiveness.” He hung up the receiver and looked back at me. “Brian, the decision is made. Stop throwing a tantrum.” “Once Derek is released, I will make him apologize to you in person. Then we can finally put this behind us.” I didn’t say a word. I simply opened my desk drawer and pulled out a sleek black lockbox. I punched in the code and popped the lid. Resting quietly on the velvet lining were the official corporate seals and my personal signature stamp. Tristan’s face dropped. “What are you doing?” I snapped the box shut and rested my hand flat on top of it. “I am making myself perfectly clear. Without my signature and my stamp, Legal cannot issue a single valid document.” “Derek’s case will not be dropped. I am never signing a letter of forgiveness.” Tristan slammed his hand against my desk. “Brian, you are being completely unreasonable!” “Do you have any idea how pathologically cold-blooded you look right now?” “I am starting to wonder if you even have a heart beating in your chest!” He pointed a finger right at my nose, his chest heaving with dramatic rage. “Let me make this clear. If you refuse to back down today, I will call a board meeting and have you removed from your position!” “Be my guest.” I turned to my laptop and pulled up my schedule for the day. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. The door is right behind you. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” Tristan stormed out in a blind fury, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass panes. Silence finally returned to the room. But I knew it was just the quiet before the storm. Sure enough, less than two hours later, the situation spiraled completely out of control. My secretary, Sarah, burst into the office in a total panic. “Brian, it is bad! You need to look at this live stream right now!” I took the tablet from her shaking hands. On the screen, Gary was sitting cross-legged right in the middle of our company’s ground-floor lobby. He was wearing a massive cardboard sign around his neck. The black marker read: HEARTLESS FEMALE CEO DRIVES SICK OLD MAN TO DEATH. Standing right next to him was a young woman holding up a phone on a tripod. It was his daughter, Hailey. “Listen to me, guys! You need to expose this evil corporation!” Hailey cried into the camera, tears streaming down her face. “My dad has kidney failure. He needs dialysis every month. My brother was desperate to save our dad, so he made a stupid mistake and borrowed some money from work.” “We begged them! We promised to sell our house to pay it back! But the CEO, Brian, is demanding my brother be locked up in prison!” “She is trying to destroy our entire family!” Right on cue, Gary clutched his chest and broke into a violent, hacking cough, acting as if he were taking his dying breath. The viewer count in the live stream had already broken one hundred thousand. The chat was moving at warp speed. “What a bloodsucking vampire!” “Fifty grand for a human life? Capitalists have zero conscience!” “Dox her! Bankrupt her company!” “Boycott all their products!” My phone started vibrating violently against the desk. An endless stream of unknown numbers flooded the screen, hurling abusive messages. I just held down the power button and shut it off. The office door was kicked open again. Tristan charged in, completely unhinged. He snatched the tablet from Sarah’s hands and smashed it down onto my desk. The screen shattered instantly. “Look at what you have done!” Tristan pointed at my face, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Our stock just dropped three points in the last ten minutes! Millions of dollars in valuation just vanished into thin air!” “My phone is blowing up with furious investors!” “Is this what your precious principles get us?!” I glanced at the spiderweb cracks on the screen. “They are trespassing and causing a disturbance in our lobby. Why haven’t the security guards thrown them out?” “Throw them out?” Tristan barked out a harsh, manic laugh. “The lobby is swarming with clout-chasing vloggers and cameras right now! You touch them, and see what happens!” “The second a guard lays a finger on that old man, the media will brand us as a violent crime syndicate by tomorrow morning!” He leaned over the desk, glaring at me like a cornered animal. “Brian, as the Vice President of this company, I am ordering you to come downstairs with me right now!” “You are going to apologize to Gary in front of every single camera down there!” “And you are going to sign that letter of forgiveness right on the spot!” I looked up, meeting his frantic gaze head-on. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why would I apologize?” Tristan froze. He genuinely could not comprehend how I was still standing my ground. “Are you insane?! Do you want to drag this entire company into the grave with you?!” “Brian, I usually let you have your stubborn little moments, but this is a matter of life and death for our business!” He took a massive breath. His tone dropped into a sinister, icy threat. “If you do not go down there and apologize, I will use the board of directors to suspend your authority as CEO.” “And another thing.” He paused, his eyes narrowing into a vicious glare. “If you don’t go down there right now, the wedding is off.” Sarah was backed into the corner of the room, too terrified to even breathe. I stared at the man I had been engaged to for two years. He was using our marriage as a bargaining chip to force me to bow down to a criminal. I stood up and smoothed out the hem of my blazer. “Fine. The wedding is off.” 3 “What did you just say?” Tristan stood frozen in place. The furious color instantly drained from his face. He probably thought my desperation for marriage was my ultimate weakness. He thought dropping the ultimate ultimatum would force me to surrender immediately. “I said, the wedding is off.” I repeated it slowly, keeping my voice perfectly flat. “As for my suspension, feel free to convene the board whenever you want. Assuming you can scrape together a majority vote.” Tristan’s face shifted from green to pale white. His finger trembled as he pointed at me. “Brian, do not regret this! You really think you can keep this empire running without me?!” “You are just bluffing to save face. Let me tell you right now, I am done tolerating your ego!” He spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls vibrated. I sank back into my chair and rubbed my throbbing temples. Suddenly, the landline on my desk rang. “Hello, is this the family of Jack?” An urgent, panicked female voice came through the speaker. “This is the West End Psychiatric Facility. Your brother was severely triggered a few minutes ago. He went into a manic episode and smashed his head against the wall.” “He needs stitches right now. You need to get here immediately!” “I am on my way!” I grabbed my car keys, sprinting out of the office. I blew through two red lights and screeched into the hospital parking lot. The second I stepped into the inpatient hallway, a shrill, hysterical voice echoed off the linoleum walls. “Don’t you dare block me! I am going to show everyone exactly how this psychopath beats people up!” “His sister is trying to murder my dad, and he is sitting here faking insanity to assault people!” I shoved my way through the crowd of nurses and patients. At the end of the hall, my brother Jack was pinned down on a bench by two large orderlies. Thick layers of gauze were wrapped around his forehead. Fresh, bright red blood was already seeping through, staining the white fabric. He was violently shaking, mumbling incoherently through chattering teeth. “I won’t steal anymore. I promise I won’t steal again. Please don’t hit my mom…” And right there, shoving her phone aggressively into my bleeding brother’s face, was Hailey. She was practically shouting into the lens. “Look at this, guys! This is the evil CEO’s actual brother!” “He is an absolute lunatic! He just tried to strangle me!” The blood rushed straight to my brain. I lunged forward, snatched the phone right out of Hailey’s grip, and smashed it mercilessly against the concrete floor. The screen exploded into a million shards. Hailey shrieked and jumped back. “What are you doing?! You have no right to break my phone!” She lunged at me like a feral cat, her manicured nails aiming straight for my eyes. I sidestepped her sloppy attack, raised my hand, and slapped her hard across the cheek. The crack echoed sharply down the corridor. Hailey stumbled, completely stunned. She clutched her red cheek, staring at me in pure disbelief. “You hit me. You actually hit me!” She threw herself onto the dirty floor and started thrashing around, kicking her legs. “Murder! The evil boss is trying to murder me!” Heavy, frantic footsteps echoed from the other end of the hall. “Stop it right now!” Tristan sprinted over, breathless. He didn’t even glance at my brother, whose head was still leaking blood. He went straight to Hailey, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her up. “Hailey, are you okay?” Tristan’s voice was dripping with intense, protective concern. There was absolutely no way these two were just strangers or ’employee and family’. Hailey immediately collapsed against Tristan’s chest, sobbing into his shirt. “Tristan, she hit me! She smashed my phone into pieces and slapped me!” “I just came here to check on her brother. How was I supposed to know he was a dangerous psycho who attacks people unprovoked…” Tristan whipped his head around, his eyes burning with disgust. “Brian, have you completely lost your mind?! Why the hell did you break her phone?!” “She is just a naive young girl! Why are you bullying her?!” “Your brother is a certified lunatic. For all we know, he bashed his own head against the wall just to cause a scene!” I watched Tristan instinctively shield Hailey with his body. I looked at his absurd, self-righteous expression, and the absolute last shred of warmth I had for him turned to ice. “She intentionally triggered my brother. Smashing her phone is letting her off easy.” I pointed a rigid finger at Hailey. “She showed up at a psychiatric ward with a live stream, deliberately provoking a severely mentally ill patient.” “Tristan, are you legally blind?” Tristan shoved Hailey further behind him. “Brian, stop spewing venom! Hailey is innocent. She doesn’t understand how these things work!” “You are so consumed by hatred you have become completely unhinged!” He pointed dismissively at my brother. “Look at him. He is a pathetic ghost. All he does is drag you down and cause nightmares for everyone around him!” “Besides, he is literally insane. Who knows if he didn’t just snap and attack her?!” 4 Hailey peeked out from behind Tristan’s broad shoulders, a sickeningly smug smile pulling at the corner of her lips. The elevator doors chimed at the end of the hall. Gary slowly limped out, leaning heavily on a cane, supported by two people. His cloudy eyes locked onto Jack’s blood-soaked bandages. A flash of pure, venomous malice crossed his shriveled face. “Oh my, how on earth did that happen?” He let out a fake, dramatic sigh, hobbling closer to drop his voice into a sinister whisper. “Brian, look at your brother. That is what we call karma.” “You can’t be too ruthless in this life. You push people to the edge, and the heavens will strike you down.” I curled my hands into tight fists, my nails biting deeply into my palms. A nurse walked over holding a clipboard. “Family of Jack? The laceration is very deep. We need to suture it immediately.” “We also need an emergency CT scan to rule out internal bleeding.” “Please go down to the first-floor billing department right now. The total is eight thousand six hundred dollars.” I snatched the invoice from her and pulled out a joint debit card from my wallet. It was a dedicated medical account Tristan and I had set up specifically to cover Jack’s facility bills. I ran downstairs to the billing window and handed the card to the clerk. She swiped it once. Her brow furrowed. “Ma’am, this card has been frozen.” I froze. “That is impossible. There is over a hundred grand in that account.” The clerk slid the card back under the glass. “The system shows the primary account holder reported it lost and froze the assets thirty minutes ago.” The primary account holder was Tristan. I grabbed the card and spun around to face the lobby. Tristan was slowly walking down the grand staircase. He held a thin stack of papers in his right hand. Gary and Hailey were following closely behind him like loyal shadows. Tristan stopped right in front of me and held out the papers. It was the legal letter of forgiveness. “Brian. All you have to do is sign your name right here.” Tristan’s voice was eerily calm. He possessed the sickening confidence of a man who held all the winning cards. “The second you sign, I will make the call to unfreeze the account.” “And your brother can get his life-saving surgery.” I stared dead into his eyes. “You are using my brother’s medical emergency to blackmail me?” Tristan frowned, acting highly offended by my phrasing. “Don’t make it sound so ugly. I am looking out for the big picture here.” “Your brother’s life matters, but Gary’s life matters too.” “Sign the paper. Everyone wins.” Gary leaned heavily on his cane, shuffling forward until his rotting breath hit my ear. “You stupid little bitch. Did you really think becoming a CEO meant you could step on me?” “Thirty years ago, your mother smashed her forehead against the concrete outside my butcher shop, and I still didn’t bat an eye.” “Let’s see if you drop to your knees today.” He pulled his lips back, exposing a row of yellowed, decaying teeth. “If you don’t sign, your brother bleeds out. I have all the time in the world. Let’s see if your brother does.” The memories of thirty years ago violently crashed into my brain. The greasy cobblestones. My mother’s agonizing wails. The thick wad of spit Gary shot onto the dirt. The sheer terror in my brother’s eyes as the police shoved him into the cruiser. It all played out perfectly clear in my mind. I looked at Gary’s twisted face. I looked at Tristan’s arrogant, triumphant smirk. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number.

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Three years ago, for the sake of my fiancé Jason Grayson’s bright future, I willingly took the blame for a hit-and-run and went to prison. On the day I was sentenced, he sobbed uncontrollably through the iron bars, swearing that when I got out, he would give me the most magnificent wedding and lay everything he had at my feet. Three years later, I was released early for good behavior. I was overjoyed, wanting to surprise him—only to see on the city’s largest LED screen that he was hosting a live stream with millions of viewers. In the stream, he was tenderly pushing a wheelchair carrying my “sickly” younger sister, Amy Lowe, announcing their engagement to the whole world. I let out a cold laugh, hailed a taxi, and headed straight for that glittering live event. 0″Let’s give a round of applause to Mr. Jason Grayson and Ms. Amy Lowe! Mr. Grayson’s devotion to Ms. Lowe is truly a model of modern romance!” The host’s passionate voice traveled clearly through the heavy doors of the hotel ballroom. I stood outside, glancing down at my faded old clothes, then at the dazzling light spilling through the crack in the door. A bitter, ironic smile tugged at my lips. I pushed open the heavy doors. Before me was a scene of suffocating luxury. Streaming equipment from top influencers was set up all over the venue, with countless cameras aimed at the center of the stage. Jason Grayson stood there in a tailored suit, tall and handsome, wearing that gentle smile I once knew so well. He leaned slightly forward, his hands on the handles of a wheelchair. In it sat my sister Amy, dressed in a pure white gown, her delicate makeup designed to look fragile and ill. “Jason, thank you for taking care of me all these years,” Amy said, her eyes reddening, her voice so frail it seemed a gust of wind could knock her over. “If it weren’t for you, I might not have made it. My sister… if she knew how happy we are now, I’m sure she’d be happy for us too.” “Don’t mention her. Today is our day.” A flicker of barely concealed disgust passed through Jason’s eyes, then he gently slid a diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg onto Amy’s finger. “Amy, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for all the suffering you’ve endured.” On the big screen, comments scrolled wildly. The whole internet was weeping over this perfect, fairy-tale romance. I took a deep breath and stepped forward, walking into that light that didn’t belong to me. The click of my heels echoed across the marble floor. At first, no one noticed this uninvited guest. Not until I reached the edge of the stage and, from a stunned crew member, took a spare microphone. Screech— A sharp feedback screech cut through the room, drowning out the soft background music. Dead silence. Every camera, every pair of eyes, locked onto me at once. Jason and Amy’s smiles froze on their faces, as if struck by lightning. The color drained from them, leaving them pale as paper. “Mr. Grayson, Ms. Lowe. Quite the performance.” I gripped the microphone, stepped up onto the stage, and walked right up to them, my eyes cutting into Jason’s hypocritical face like knives. “Anyone would think I’d died in there.” “Amanda?! How… how are you out?!” Jason was the first to react. He instinctively shielded Amy behind him, his handsome face twisting with fear and rage. “Security! Where the hell is security?! Get this crazy woman out of here! Cut the stream! Now!” I watched the panic in his eyes, and it felt incredibly satisfying. Crazy woman? Yeah, in their eyes, I went to prison for him, and seeing this, I was supposed to throw a tantrum like a hysterical mess. But I wouldn’t. I turned to the camera, flashing a brilliant smile, my voice steady and clear: “Hello, everyone watching online, and all the media friends here. My name is Amanda Lowe. I’m the former girlfriend of this deeply devoted Mr. Jason Grayson. And I’m also the ex-convict who took the blame for his hit-and-run three years ago—and was just released from prison.” The ballroom erupted like a bomb had gone off. “Oh my god! She took the blame?!” “What did she just say? Jason Grayson was the one who did the hit-and-run?!” “This is huge! Record it! Hurry!” The security guards froze, unsure what to do. “Sis…” Amy finally snapped out of it. She struggled to stand halfway from her wheelchair, then collapsed back into it weakly, tears streaming down her face like broken beads. “Sis, please don’t say that! I know you hate me for taking Jason, but… but you were the one driving that night! Don’t destroy everything Jason has built just because you’re jealous!” She looked so pitiful, sobbing like that, that it stirred a protective instinct in many of the onlookers. My mother, Karen Shaw, rushed out from somewhere, grabbing my arm with nails digging into my flesh. Through gritted teeth, she hissed at me: “You ungrateful child! You had to show up now of all times?! Your sister is sick—she can’t handle this stress! Are you trying to kill her? Get out of here right now!” I turned to look at my biological mother. Her eyes held only tenderness for her younger daughter—and disgust for her elder one. I yanked my arm free, so hard she stumbled back several steps. “Don’t touch me. You make me sick.” I looked at her coldly, then turned back to Jason, raising the mic to my lips, mimicking the tone he’d used with me three years ago in that visitation room: “Jason, what are you so nervous about? Three years ago, you said to me through that glass—’Amanda, trust me, wait for me.’ So now I’m waiting. And what do I find? You using the money from selling my freedom to marry my sister?” Jason’s body went rigid. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Amanda, what the hell do you want?!” he hissed, voice low enough for only the three of us to hear. “Is it money? I’ll give it to you! Ten million—is that enough? Take it and get out of the country. Forever.” “Ten million?” I laughed, the sound carrying through the microphone. “Grayson, do you think three years of my life—and an innocent person’s life—is worth ten million?” I stepped back, facing the flashing cameras, and dropped the biggest bomb of the night: “Since my sister says I’m jealous, as her older sister, I should give her an engagement gift. Here it is—the original footage from the dashcam from that accident three years ago, the one you two tried so hard to destroy. Jason, guess what’s on it?” Jason’s pupils shrank. He looked like he’d been plunged into freezing water. The bomb had detonated. I didn’t give them a chance to respond. I tossed the microphone to the floor with a harsh thud. And with everyone’s shocked, curious, and frantic eyes on me, I straightened my back, walked out of the ballroom like a victorious queen, and never looked back. Behind me was utter chaos—and Jason’s furious roar. 0

The night air hit me as soon as I stepped out of the hotel. Only then did I realize my back was soaked through. The rush of revenge faded like the tide, replaced by a deep exhaustion and wariness. I knew that once my words spread online, Jason would come after me like a rabid dog. I had to disappear. Now. I hurried into a dead-end alley with no cameras and was about to pull out my SIM card when my phone screen lit up. A text from an unknown number. Just one line: “The dashcam footage you mentioned—is it the original copy?” My heart sank. My blood ran cold. The only people who knew about that dashcam, aside from me and Jason, were a few of his trusted people from back then. Jason wouldn’t text me like this—he’d just send men to grab me. So who was this? They were in the shadows. I was in the open. Not only did they know I had leverage, but they were even questioning whether I’d been bluffing on that live stream. The word “original” hit me right where it hurt. I didn’t reply. I shut off the phone, yanked out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and flushed it down a sewer grate. I couldn’t go home—that place belongs to Karen and Amy now. I didn’t reach out to any old friends either. I knew Jason’s methods too well. I couldn’t drag anyone else into this. With the little cash I had left, I found a small motel on the outskirts that didn’t require ID, then bought a cheap burner phone and an untraceable prepaid SIM from a used electronics shop. By the time I was done, it was late at night. The room was small and damp, smelling of mold. I sat on the stiff mattress and stared at the neon lights blinking outside the window, my eyes cold and empty. Less than half an hour after I turned on the new phone, it rang. I looked at the unknown number flashing on the screen, let out a cold laugh, and answered. “Amanda, where the hell are you hiding?!” Jason’s voice on the other end was hoarse and distorted with rage and fear. He had already tracked down my new number that fast. I clearly underestimated his reach in this city. “Mr. Grayson, in such a hurry to find me—are you inviting me to your wedding?” I leaned against the wall, my tone light as if we were talking about the weather. “Cut the crap!” Jason was breathing heavily. “Let’s talk. Name your price. How much do you want for the footage? Houses, cars, cash—just name it. But don’t make me do this the hard way. You know what I’m capable of.” “The hard way?” I scoffed. “Like what you did to my brakes three years ago?” Silence. Dead silence on the other end. “Listen to me, Jason.” I dropped the smile, my voice cold as a blade dipped in ice. “Three years ago, you tricked me into taking the fall, promising to take care of my mom and sister. Now, I want the penthouse downtown—the one worth eighty million. By noon tomorrow, I want to see the deed transferred to my name. One dollar short, one minute late, and you’ll be dealing with the police.” “Eighty million?! Amanda, you’re insane! That’s extortion!” Jason completely lost it. With his company’s current cash flow, pulling out eighty million in a single day would be like ripping out his spine.. That was exactly what I wanted—to make him hurt, to make him panic, to make him lose his cool. “Then don’t pay. We’ll see each other in court.” Without another word, I hung up and blocked the number. I could picture him smashing up his office in helpless rage. But this was far from over. I put down the phone. The mysterious text message came back to mind. Then my phone buzzed again. Same unknown number. This time, they were calling. I took a deep breath and answered. “Miss Amanda Lowe, hello.” A low, raspy male voice came through—weary, but sharp. “I’m Leo Meyers. My father was the truck driver killed in that accident three years ago. I think we need to meet.” My eyes went wide. Leo Meyers. The boy who’d stared at me in that courtroom with bloodshot eyes, wanting to tear me apart. 0

Leo’s words hit me like lightning, cutting through the fog. If it was him, it all made sense. He had every motive to investigate the truth, and every reason to hate Jason to the core. “When and where,” I asked with no hesitation. “Tomorrow, 8 a.m. The abandoned auto shop garage south of the city.” I couldn’t sleep all night after I hung up. The next morning, I arrived at that desolate, rusting garage on the south side. The air stank of oil and rust. Leo stepped out from behind a beat-up van. Three years had aged him—stubble, weary lines—but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. He looked at me, his gaze complicated—hatred, yes, but also a trace of curiosity. “Ms. Lowe. Brave of you to come alone,” he said flatly. “You reached out to me. That means you’ve found something. My enemy’s enemy is my friend. Why wouldn’t I come?” I held his gaze without flinching. Leo paused, then pulled a thick stack of papers from his worn backpack and tossed them onto a rusted oil drum. “See for yourself.” I stepped forward and opened the files. After just a few pages, my hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Financial statements. Money trails. A few shady double contracts. “My dad wasn’t just a truck driver,” Leo’s voice echoed through the empty garage, heavy with suppressed rage. “He was an early logistics contractor for Jason’s company. He stumbled onto evidence that Jason was using shell companies to launder money—massive commercial fraud. My dad was an honest man. He was going to report it. And on his way to the police station—that ‘accident’ happened.” My mind went blank. Commercial fraud? Money laundering? Murder?! I stared at those documents. The cold numbers and signatures slithered like vipers. So that wasn’t just a hit-and-run. Jason wasn’t just afraid of jail—he was covering up a premeditated murder. And I, like a complete fool, had taken the fall and even felt grateful to him. A wave of nausea and dread shot up from my feet. “Jason cleaned up the scene well. Cameras were broken and no witnesses,” Leo continued, his voice cracking, eyes bloodshot. “You took the blame. He played the victim’s family and gave me a settlement check like he was being generous. Amanda, do you realize you helped a killer escape justice?” “I didn’t know…” I whispered, my nails digging into my palms so hard they drew blood. “I really didn’t know…” “Now you do.” Leo took a breath, steadying himself. “I’ve been digging for three years. These documents prove financial crimes, but they’re not enough for a murder conviction. But your dashcam footage can change that. If it proves he was driving, proves he hit my father on purpose—then he’s done for.” I looked at Leo, the same fire igniting in my eyes. “Okay. I’ll work with you.” I said each word deliberately. “We’ll make him pay.” After I left Leo, I didn’t go back to the motel. My prison-honed instincts told me I was being followed. I deliberately took a winding route through a residential area, and sure enough, spotted two shady men in black trailing me. Jason was faster than I’d expected. Using my knowledge of the area, I lost them and immediately contacted Leo. He picked me up and took me to a basement apartment he’d rented on the outskirts. “You’re safe here for now.” Leo handed me a bottle of water. “What’s your next move?” I turned on my phone. Online, the tide of public opinion had already flipped completely. Jason’s PR team had moved fast. They’d not only buried the buzz from my live stream, but they’d turned it against me. The top trending post was a video of Amy crying in a hospital bed. Pale and fragile, she said: “My sister was under a lot of stress in prison, her mental health has been unstable. She just loves Jason too much. I don’t blame her—I just hope she gets the help she needs…” Then came my mother Karen’s interview. She wept on camera: “My eldest daughter has always been extreme and violent. I failed to raise her right. I’m so sorry she did this to her sister and brother-in-law…” They’d painted me as a lovesick, mentally unstable lunatic. The comments poured in—thousands of people cursing me. Someone even doxxed me, vowing to take matters into their own hands. “Those animals!” Leo slammed the table. I stared at my mother’s hypocritical face on the screen, and felt nothing. Shockingly calm. When you’re past the point of caring, nothing hurts anymore. “Let them talk.” I turned off my phone, a cold smile curling at my lips. “The higher they climb, the harder they fall. Leo, I need a micro camera and a drone. Tomorrow, I’m sending Jason a special gift.” I used the burner number to text Jason: “Tomorrow 3 p.m. Abandoned chemical plant, west side. Bring five million in cash. Come alone. Otherwise, the dashcam footage goes to every police department in the city.” 0

The abandoned chemical plant on the west side was overgrown and crumbling. I arrived at 2 p.m. I hid the micro camera on a rusted iron shelf on the second floor, with a clear view of the entire open area below. Leo was parked in a car a few miles away, piloting the drone as it circled above the plant, monitoring every movement in the area in real time. So we have a Plan B stand by. At exactly 3 p.m., a black Maybach pulled up in a cloud of dust. The door opened and Jason Grayson stepped out, carrying a silver briefcase. He wore a black trench coat, his eyes dark and predatory. I stood in the shadows on the second floor, watching him coldly. “Amanda! I’m here! Get out here!” His voice echoed through the empty building. I walked down the rusted iron stairs, step by step. The clang of my heels on the metal was sharp and unnerving in the silence. “Mr. Grayson, punctual as always.” I stopped about fifteen feet away. Jason’s eyes were fixed on me, burning with murderous intent. He threw the briefcase on the ground—thud—and flipped it open. Stacks of cash. “Five million. Every dollar.” He ground out the words. “Now give me the footage. Take the money and disappear.” I stared at that suitcase of cash and suddenly started laughing, so hard tears nearly came. “Five million? Jason, are you tipping a waitress?” I stopped laughing, my eyes cutting like blades. “All that money you laundered through shell companies, the life you took to cover it up—that’s worth five million to you?” Jason’s face went pale, his pupils contracting. “What… what the hell are you talking about!” “Am I talking nonsense? Was Leo’s father’s death really an accident?” I stepped closer. “You were afraid he’d report you, so you ran him down on purpose. Then you used my feelings for you to make me take the blame. Jason, you’re a monster.” “Shut up!” Jason, cornered, finally dropped all pretense. He raised his hand and four burly men with iron pipes rushed in from outside, surrounding me. “Amanda, you had your chance! Did you really think I’d come alone?” Jason’s face twisted into a manic grin. “Since you know too much, go keep that dead truck driver company! Beat her—leave her breathing, and find that footage!” The four men closed in. Then, at that exact moment, the factory doors were shoved open again. “Stop! Jason, no!” Amy was in her wheelchair, pushed by my mother Karen, both of them rushing in with panic written all over their faces. “Amy? Mom? What are you two doing here?!” Jason froze. Amy threw herself at Jason, gripping his arm desperately: “Jason, you can’t kill anyone! My sister just made a mistake—please let her go!” Karen rushed forward too, jabbing her finger in my face. “You jinx! Are you really going to drag this whole family down with you?! Just give him what he wants and walk away! If you want to destroy yourself, don’t you dare take us with you!” I stared at the scene unfolding in front of me and felt nothing but a hollow, bitter amusement. How did they know to come here? The answer was obvious — either Amy had been following Jason, or Jason had brought them here on purpose. Amy was putting on a show. In front of Jason, she played the role of the gentle, caring angel. But underneath it all, she couldn’t wait to see me gone. And my mother — she had always been Amy’s most loyal accomplice. “Family?” I laughed coldly and stepped back. From my pocket, I pulled out a black USB drive and held it high. All eyes locked onto that tiny device. Jason’s eyes lit up with greed. “You want it?” I looked at them, a wild smile on my lips. “Amanda, don’t do anything stupid! Give it to me!” Jason lunged forward. “Stay back!” I shouted. Then, in front of all of them, I smashed that USB drive onto the ground. Crack! The USB drive exploded into pieces. I lifted my foot and ground every last fragment into dust with my stiletto heel. Dead silence fell over the room. Jason froze. Amy froze. Karen froze. A few seconds passed, Jason burst into manic laughter: “Hahaha! Amanda, you stupid bitch! You just destroyed your only evidence! Now what are you going to threaten me with?!” He raised his hand and barked at his men: “Grab her! I’ll make her wish she was dead!” I watched his smug, ugly face, completely calm. And then I gave him a look of pure pity. “Jason, do you really think three years in prison rotted my brain?” I smiled, speaking slowly and clearly: “Did you really think I’d carry the original on me? It was a throwaway drive with a couple of pop songs on it.” Jason’s laughter died in his throat. His face went rigid. “Ten minutes ago, the real dashcam footage—along with all the evidence of your financial crimes—was personally handed over to the detectives at the Economic Crimes Division and the Criminal Investigation Division by my partner.”

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When I found out my online boyfriend was actually my stepbrother, I panicked and posted a frantic listing online. Giving away my online boyfriend for free. He’s clingy and talks constantly. We’ve never met in person. Is anyone willing to take him off my hands and meet up with him? Urgent, urgent, urgent! Just then, my stepbrother walked up, a teasing, dark smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t you say you wanted to bury your face in my chest and kiss me raw the second we met? And now you’re just giving me away to someone else?” I trembled violently and bolted. Later, at a family dinner, in a dimly lit corner, my stepbrother slowly unbuttoned his cuffs and backed me against the wall. “Viv, breaking a promise isn’t a good habit. Come here.” 1 I had spent the last three months dating a guy who was six-foot-two, had an insane six-pack, and possessed the absolute sweetest, most nurturing golden-retriever energy. After three months of heavy flirting, he happened to be in my city on business, so we agreed to finally meet up over the weekend. As I rode the train over, even the breeze outside felt sweet. On a whim, I posted a quick update on a social media app to document the moment. Heading to meet my online boyfriend. If it goes well, I’ve hit the jackpot. If it doesn’t, I’m just a clown. Beneath the text, I attached a photo he’d sent of himself wearing an apron. His massive chest practically strained the fabric, throwing his ridiculously broad shoulders into sharp relief. The comments section instantly went wild. That V-taper is insane. You are eating so good, girl! I could never land a guy like this. Do us a favor and scream for the rest of us! Drop the tutorial, sis! I am literally on my knees! Right then, messages from my online boyfriend started flooding my screen. Where are you, Viv? Just thinking about seeing you today has completely ruined my concentration. I can’t even focus on my meetings. My head is entirely filled with you. I’m in my office right now, so nervous and excited. I’m pretty average-looking, though. Are you going to be disappointed when you see me? Maybe I should send you a photo first so you can prepare yourself? I texted back: Of course not, honey. It’s your heart I fell for. Looks don’t matter to me. In three months of dating, we had exchanged voice notes and teased each other with body shots, but we had never actually shared our faces. But honestly, with a physique like that, I would happily take him with my eyes closed. Then, he sent another photo. My jaw hit the floor. A massive man was sitting in an office chair, thighs spread wide, his suit trousers stretched tight enough to show the faint outlines of shirt-stays. His left arm was slightly bent, hand resting on his thigh, veins bulging across the back of his hand and up his forearm where his sleeve was rolled to the elbow. His other elbow rested on his knee, holding a prop gun I had teased him into buying. He gripped the barrel, pointing the stock toward the camera. He leaned forward slightly, his black vest hugging the prominent chest muscles beneath his white shirt. The sheer power radiating from the image was overwhelming. The posture was pure dominance, dripping with raw tension. I felt hot just looking at it. He was teasing me, plain and simple. Since the train was packed, I couldn’t do much, so I quickly typed: Are you going to use that gun stock to tap my backside? He sent a voice note immediately. I scrambled to plug in my earbuds. A smooth, deep voice rumbled in my ears. “One minute you want to bury your face in my chest, and the next you want a spanking. You’re getting greedy, sweetheart.” I typed: Please? Pretty please? He let out a low, breathless chuckle. “We’ll see how well you behave, Viv.” That laugh absolutely destroyed me. I wanted nothing more than to tear through the screen and throw myself at him. 2 Finally, the train pulled into the station. I grabbed my suitcase and practically sprinted out. He had told me he would be waiting near the exit. But the moment I stepped onto the platform near the street, I spotted a painfully familiar figure. Slicked-back hair, a perfectly tailored suit, looking utterly severe and strictly business. It was my incredibly intimidating stepbrother, Gideon. We were from a blended family. My mother had married his father, Robert, when we were younger. Although I called him my brother, we weren’t close at all. First, he was older than me, deeply traditional, and a man of exceptionally few words. By the time I was in school, he was already working at the family firm. We rarely saw each other, and when we did, it was nothing more than polite, brief pleasantries followed by heavy silence. Second, his features took after his father, only sharper and far more imposing. One look from those cold, dark eyes was enough to make my stomach drop. The only upside was that he occasionally acted as an ATM when I was short on cash. In fact, the money for this trip had come straight from his pocket. He had no idea I was traveling to meet an online lover, and I had absolutely no intention of telling him. So, I lowered my head, avoiding his line of sight, and blended into the crowd. He seemed to be waiting for someone, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. Ooh, a girl, I thought, a mischievous grin tugging at my lips. If his father knew Gideon was dating, he would probably throw a party. I found a quiet corner far away from Gideon and sent a text to my guy. I’m here, babe. My phone rang almost instantly. “I’m right by the main exit,” his deep voice said, a trace of nervous anticipation bleeding through the speaker. “You should see me the moment you walk out.” I scanned the crowd, my brow furrowing. There was absolutely no one around who matched his description. “I don’t see you. I’m right outside the main gates.” The line went quiet for a second before he suggested, “Do you want to FaceTime?” “Sure, let’s do it.” We had to face each other eventually, and with a body like that, there was no way he could be hard on the eyes. As the call connected, I quickly patted down my hair, checked my makeup in the reflection, angled myself toward the best light, and hit accept. It took exactly one second. I slammed my hand over the camera lens. My smile froze instantly. “Viv?” That single word sent a violent shiver down my spine. I turned around slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Sure enough, not far away, Gideon was holding his phone up, staring intensely at the screen. “Viv, what’s wrong?” My mind raced as I came to a terrifying, impossible realization. My online boyfriend was Gideon. My online boyfriend was my own stepbrother. 3 It took me several agonizing moments to find my voice. “Um, so… what did you say your name was again?” Gideon’s deep voice drifted through the speaker. “Gideon. I told you before.” Refusing to accept reality, I stammered, “Right, but… how do you spell it? Is it G-I-D-E-O-N?” “Yes, Vivian. Gideon Cross. I’ve never lied to you about that.” I closed my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. My entire world was collapsing. When we first started talking, we had exchanged names. He had sent me a brief, one-second voice note. I remembered feeling a brief flicker of familiarity back then, but the slight unease had been quickly swept away by the gorgeous fitness photos he posted on his feed. To flirt with him and bridge the gap between us, I had given him my nickname. Viv. It was a name my mother had given me when I was a child, though she rarely used it these days. I had never in a million years imagined that the man on the other end of the line was Gideon. Gideon was always so cold, so distant. My online boyfriend, on the other hand, was incredibly suggestive, clingy, and had an insane physique. Sure, the name Gideon wasn’t incredibly common, but I figured it was just a coincidence. But of all the people in the world, it had to be him. If only I had insisted on seeing his face while I was still on the train. Regret washed over me in suffocating waves. As I stood there utterly paralyzed, Gideon’s voice came through the phone again, sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Viv? Did you change your mind after seeing my face? I told you I wasn’t much to look at. I’m sorry. I should have sent you a photo sooner.” The raw disappointment in his tone made my chest ache. “No, it’s not that. I was just… really surprised. You just look a little intimidating.” Gideon wasn’t unattractive by any means. He had sharp, striking features with a dangerous, dark edge. But those intense, heavy-lidded eyes could look incredibly fierce when he stared at you without expression, often sending a chill straight down your spine. The very first time my mother brought me to the family home, I had burst into tears out of sheer terror just looking at him. Hearing my response, Gideon softened his voice. “I’m sorry, Viv. I was afraid of scaring you off, which is why I waited so long to show you. Most people around me… they’re terrified of me. If you don’t like what you see, I won’t bother you. But could you give me a chance? Let’s just sit down, have a quiet dinner, and then I’ll make sure you get home safely. After that, you can decide whether you want to keep talking to me.” My heart melted a little at his gentleness. But… he was my stepbrother. “I need to use the restroom. Can you wait for me for a minute?” “Of course.” I ended the call, but the panic in my chest didn’t subside. I peered out from behind the corner to steal a glance at him. Gideon was looking down at his phone, his face unreadable, completely lost in thought. A dull ache settled deep in my chest. I had genuinely fallen for my online boyfriend. Why did it have to be Gideon? Ever since my mother married into his family, she had constantly pressured me to please both Gideon and his father. I had done my best to follow her instructions, but the pressure was agonizing. I crouched down, burying my face in my hands. Suddenly, my phone buzzed, reminding me of the post I had made earlier. In just two hours, the update had garnered over ten thousand likes, and the comments were blowing up with people begging for an update. I quietly changed my username to: Holy crap, he’s my stepbrother. Then I drafted a new post: Giving away my online boyfriend for free. He’s clingy and talks constantly. We’ve never met in person. Are there any girls near Riverport Central Station who want to take my place? Urgent, urgent, urgent! I’m sorry, Gideon, but I don’t see any other way out of this. Just as my thumb hovered over the publish button, a deep voice shattered the silence behind me. “Vivian?” I gasped, leaping to my feet. Gideon was standing right there, towering over me, his face carved from ice. “G-Gideon!” My tongue felt like lead as I frantically locked my screen. Gideon studied me, his sharp gaze scanning me from head to toe before he spoke. “What are you doing here?” His voice was cool and distant. Those piercing eyes pinned me to the spot, making it impossible to lie. “I… I came to meet someone I met online…” I swallowed hard, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry, Gideon, I…” The words caught in my throat. My palms were slick with sweat. Gideon adopted his usual authoritative stance. “An online boyfriend? Who is he? What’s his name? How long have you been together?” Every single question made me want to curl up and disappear. I looked away, forcing myself to spin a lie. “We broke up just now. He didn’t think I was good enough for him.” A ghost of a smirk played on Gideon’s lips, sending a shiver down my spine. His light voice drifted down over me. “What a coincidence. I was just dumped, too.” 4 My heart skipped a violent beat. A terrible suspicion crept into my mind that he already knew everything. But Gideon merely stared at me, keeping perfectly silent, his overwhelming presence wrapping around me like a tight coil. I clutched at the hem of my shirt, fighting back tears. “I’m… I’m sorry, Gideon. She must have been blind to let you go. You’re the best brother in the world.” The lie nearly choked me. Gideon didn’t look particularly pleased by the compliment, but he let out a noncommittal grunt and turned on his heel. I let out a silent breath of relief, only for him to stop and look back over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming? Or are you planning to go search for that online boyfriend who didn’t think you were good enough?” He placed a heavy, deliberate emphasis on those last few words. Before my brain could process the situation, my hands had already grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and my feet were moving to keep pace with him. When we reached his car, I noticed the beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting sadly inside a trash bin. I bit my lower lip and quietly opened the passenger door. Gideon placed my suitcase in the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat. Once the doors closed, a heavy, tense silence filled the cabin. Desperate for a distraction, I pulled out my phone. Ensuring Gideon was focused on the road, I quickly swiped away from the social media app. My finger accidentally swiped down the notification shade, revealing two unread alerts from our dating app. 12 minutes ago: Your partner has started sharing their location. 7 minutes ago: Your partner has stopped sharing their location. I froze entirely. He had been right there, but he had already turned it off several minutes ago. I was so dazed that I barely registered Gideon speaking to me. It wasn’t until his voice cut through the fog that I blinked. “Vivian.” I snapped out of it, my face pale as I turned to him. His brow furrowed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong? Still missing that online guy?” I parted my lips but found nothing to say, swallowed by intense awkwardness. I couldn’t tell if he knew the truth. If he did, he shouldn’t be acting this calm. But if he didn’t, why would he say he had been dumped? Perhaps noticing how shaken and miserable I looked, Gideon sighed, his tone softening slightly. “I asked you what you wanted to eat. Let’s get some food, and then I’ll drop you off at a hotel so you can rest. I’ll drive you back home tomorrow.” The gentle cadence of his voice sounded remarkably like my online boyfriend now. If we hadn’t been so distant at home, I probably would have recognized his voice the moment we first spoke. I mumbled, “Whatever you think is best, Gideon. I don’t mind.” “Alright.” He spared me a brief glance before focusing on the road. The silence stretched all the way to the restaurant. My mind was a chaotic mess, and I could barely taste the food. Gideon remained as quiet and aloof as ever. As we neared the end of the meal, he spoke up again. “I don’t have any work left for today. Is there anywhere you’d like to visit?” He had told me online that he had cleared his entire schedule for the next few days just so we could spend uninterrupted time together during our meeting. Guilt and anxiety gnawed at my conscience. I shook my head slowly. Gideon’s expression didn’t change. “Then I’ll take you to your hotel.” “Okay.” 5 When we arrived at the hotel room, Gideon lingered at the doorway. “Stay safe. Call me if you need anything.” He paused, shifting his weight. “You’ve been messaging me on my work profile. It gets cluttered with business inquiries, so it’s not very practical. Let’s exchange personal accounts.” He retrieved his phone and brought up a QR code. Looking at the familiar profile picture, my stomach did a slow flip. I was currently logged into my secret dating profile on my messaging app, and there was no way I could switch accounts right in front of him. I scrambled for a terrible excuse. “Give me a second, Gideon. I really need to use the restroom. I can’t hold it.” I rushed inside, shut the door, and frantically switched back to my primary messaging profile. Over the past two years, my mother’s desire for control had become suffocating. She micromanaged everything from the clothes I wore to the posts I shared and the people I spoke with. Once I started college, she demanded daily updates on my schedule down to the smallest detail. She was obsessed with grooming me into a perfect, flawless, and utterly submissive socialite. The sheer pressure had driven me to create a secret account where I could let off steam and speak my mind. When I first added Gideon on his personal account, he had seen my erratic posts and probably thought I was losing my mind. Honestly, I probably was. Once the account was switched, I stepped back out and scanned his QR code. “There we go. Thanks, Gideon.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but seeing my eager dismissal, he simply nodded and turned to leave. I watched him walk down the hallway, closed the door, and slumped against it, completely drained of energy. Crawling onto the bed, I reopened the social media app. The draft of my giveaway post was still sitting there. After a moment of hesitation, I deleted it. Since my username change, the post about meeting my online boyfriend had gained even more traction, and the comments were getting wilder. Oh my god, a forbidden stepbrother romance in real life? This is too wild! I demand a daily log of this! I need to know every single detail! Naturally, some accused me of baiting for engagement. People will really invent anything for clout these days. Totally fake. How do you not recognize your own brother’s body? A few users even sent nasty direct messages, accusing me of promoting something sick. Feeling incredibly hurt, I pinned a comment to clarify: We aren’t biologically related. We’re a blended family, and he’s five years older than me. We barely know each other and only see each other once a year during the holidays. I created a secret account to vent because of extreme personal stress, and by some insane stroke of luck, I ended up adding his private profile without realizing it. It’s not what you think. Please stop the hateful comments; I’m incredibly sensitive and this is really stressing me out. Shortly after pinning the comment, an anonymous user with a default avatar messaged me: Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault at all. But I have to ask, do you actually have feelings for your online guy, or was he just a distraction for you? Assuming the user was a supportive girl, I replied: I genuinely fell for him. His voice, his look, his sweet personality, everything about him is absolutely perfect. I’m completely head over heels. But he’s my stepbrother. Even if we don’t share any blood, my family would absolutely destroy me if they found out, especially my mother. The moment I pressed send, a text from Gideon flashed across my screen: Open the door. 6 I frantically exited the app, setting my phone to Do Not Disturb to keep any incoming notifications hidden. When I opened the door, Gideon was standing in the hallway, holding the handle of my suitcase. A rare, gentle smile touched his lips. “You left your bag in my car,” he said. I had never seen him smile like that before, and it felt almost surreal. He walked past me into the room, the wheels of the suitcase clicking softly against the floor. I stood there, utterly bewildered. “Gideon?” “Yeah?” His phone was unlocked in his hand, hanging loosely at his side. I couldn’t see the text clearly, but I caught a glimpse of that familiar default avatar on his screen. An epiphany hit me like a physical blow. He knew. He had known the entire time. He had likely stumbled across my post, turned on his location sharing to confirm it, and tracked me down. Every single word he had said since then, every action, had been a deliberate test. And that anonymous user asking if I genuinely liked him? That was him. It made perfect sense why he was standing at my door the exact second I replied. Panic seized me. “Gideon, listen, I can explain…” Gideon sat down on the edge of the bed, watching me with a calm, intensely tender gaze that made my throat close up. “Take your time, Viv,” he said softly. The moment he called me by my nickname, all pretense evaporated. The fragile string keeping my composure together snapped completely. My knees buckled, and I nearly fell to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. Gideon immediately stood up, looking alarmed. “I’m not angry with you, sweetheart. Please don’t be afraid.” He took a step toward me, but my instinct made me flinch back. His hand froze in midair, a look of profound regret crossing his face as he slowly lowered his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Those fierce eyes were suddenly filled with deep affection and sorrow. “When I first realized you were my online girl, I was completely stunned. I felt anxious, conflicted, and confused. But it took me only five minutes to make peace with it. I love you, Viv. No matter who you are, I love the real, unfiltered version of you that you shared with me.” His absolute certainty left me speechless. “But… I’m your stepsister.” He let out a soft chuckle. “I know. But it doesn’t change how I feel. If anything, it makes me understand why you were always so emotional when we talked, and why you would cling to me and say the wildest things. It just makes me ache for you even more.” His gaze was incredibly tender. “At home, you always walked on eggshells, hiding your true self. I never understood why you were so terrified of me. Every time I tried to reach out or show you kindness, you seemed to interpret it as… a threat?” He sighed deeply. “So, I stopped trying. I figured keeping my distance was the only way to make things easier for you.” I looked away, biting my lip as memories from years ago flooded my mind.

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My mother-in-law, Elizabeth, spent three years turning me into the perfect obedient trophy wife of a wealthy family. I thought she despised me — until she personally dragged me to a high-end restaurant to catch my husband in the act. She didn’t scream or make a scene like some unhinged woman on the street. Instead, right in front of the other woman, she made one phone call and cut off every card my husband had. She pulled me behind her, her eyes cold as a blade: “The heir I spent three years grooming with my own hands was not meant to be disrespected by trash like you.” I thought my mother-in-law was my salvation — my ally, the one who would pull me out of the quicksand of my marriage. But years later, when I held complete control of the entire corporation, the woman who had disappeared for so long called me out of nowhere — and revealed a truth that sent ice down my spine. “Evelyn, hold those tears back. Crying is the most useless thing in this world.” Outside the private dining room of an upscale French restaurant, Elizabeth shot me a cold glance. She wore a perfectly tailored dark gray couture suit, a flawless luxury watch on her wrist, and carried herself with an authority that was almost suffocating. I bit down hard on my lip, my whole body trembling. Just on the other side of that door, my husband William was having dinner with a young, beautiful girl. Her name was Daisy — a new intern at his company. Half an hour ago, Elizabeth had suddenly pulled me out of the house without a word of explanation and brought me straight here. Through the gap in the door, I watched with my own eyes as William cut a piece of steak and fed it into Daisy’s mouth, his gaze so tender it could melt. That tenderness. He hadn’t shown it to me in a very long time. “Mom…” My voice came out hoarse, my mind completely blank. Bang! Elizabeth ignored me and kicked the door open. The crash startled everyone inside. William spun around, and the moment he saw us, his knife and fork clattered onto his plate and the color drained from his face. “Mom? Evelyn? What are you two doing here…” Daisy looked just as stunned, shrinking into her chair like a frightened rabbit, her eyes going red almost instantly. Elizabeth didn’t shout. She didn’t lunge forward. She walked in on her heels, one deliberate step at a time, and stood over the table, looking down at William. “The Wellington here is excellent. Too bad you don’t deserve it.” Her tone was flat, but it carried a chill that cut to the bone. She took out her phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker. “Alfred, cancel every supplementary card under William’s name and freeze his personal accounts. Also, notify Legal — pull his signing authority on the North District project. Effective immediately.” The voice on the other end confirmed without hesitation. William shot to his feet, panic breaking through. “Mom! What are you doing? If you have something to say, we can talk at home — don’t do this here—” “Home?” Elizabeth let out a short, cold laugh. Her gaze swept across Daisy’s face like a blade. “Do you still have a home? I spent three years personally grooming a daughter-in-law to help protect this family’s legacy — not so you could go out and embarrass me with something like this.” Daisy flinched as if she’d been struck, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Ma’am, you’ve got it wrong, Mr. Sterling and I are just—” “Shut up.” Elizabeth didn’t even look at her. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that? Go handle your resignation tomorrow and get out of the company. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you can’t find work in this city — not even waiting tables.” With that, Elizabeth turned and grabbed my wrist, her grip startlingly strong. “Did you see enough?” She held my gaze, each word deliberate. “That is the man you’ve devoted yourself to for three years. Let’s go.” I followed her out of the restaurant like a puppet on a string.

Back at the sprawling, hollow villa, I collapsed onto the couch, my mind flooded with images of William and Daisy together. William was a self-made star in the business world — he’d founded Sterling Group in his early thirties and built it into a billion-dollar empire. I, on the other hand, came from an ordinary family. When I married him, everyone said I’d won the lottery. After the wedding, Elizabeth ordered me to quit my job. “A Sterling wife has no business working outside or putting herself on display. Your job is to take care of Will and take care of this home.” From that point on, she scheduled every hour of my life. She had me up at six every morning to make breakfast and iron clothes. Mornings were for cleaning the house and accompanying her to the salon. Afternoons were filled with etiquette lessons and wine tastings, or playing hostess at her social gatherings. And every evening, I had to come up with new, elaborate nutritious meals. Elizabeth had severe OCD and mysophobia. Not a single hair could be on the carpet. Every cup handle had to face the exact same angle. One small mistake, and she’d tear me apart with her cold, cutting remarks. “You can’t even mop a floor properly. What’s the point of Will bringing you home?” “This soup tastes like plain water. Are you trying to starve us?” I swallowed my grievances every time. Whenever I poured my heart out to William, he’d hold me gently and speak to me in that soft, soothing voice of his. “Eve, my mom raised me on her own. It wasn’t easy. She’s got a difficult personality — just be patient with her. You’re the only one I care about.” “Baby, you work so hard at home. Once things settle down at work, I’ll take you to the Maldives.” His tenderness was the only comfort I had in that cold, hollow mansion. I believed we were in love. I believed that if I endured enough, I would eventually earn this family’s acceptance. But now I understood. William’s tenderness was a lie. So was his “busy schedule.” He was out there cutting steak for another woman, while I sat alone at home, drowning in endless loneliness. “Done crying?” Elizabeth had changed into a loungewear set at some point. She walked toward me, a glass of red wine in hand. I looked up. My eyes were so swollen they felt like they were about to burst. “Elizabeth, why did Will—” “Because men are dogs at their core.” Elizabeth cut me off, her voice flat and cold. “Feed them a five-star meal every day, and they’ll still go sniffing around for street food. You think waiting on him hand and foot would make him grateful? Wrong. It just makes him think it’s your job. Like you’re some soulless housekeeper with no life of your own.” Her words hit like a blade straight to the chest. “So what am I supposed to do? Get a divorce?” My voice was shaking. “Divorce?” Elizabeth let out a cold laugh and looked down at me. “You walk out with nothing, and that little home-wrecker moves right into your house, spends your husband’s money, and sleeps in your bed. Is that really what you want?” I clenched my fist so hard my nails dug into my palm. It stung. No. Absolutely not. I gave three years of my life to this marriage. Why should I be the one to step aside and make room for someone else? “Then get up!” Elizabeth snapped. “Tears won’t give a man a conscience. In this world, the only thing that can protect you is the leverage you hold in your own hands.” She walked to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a document, slapping it down on the coffee table. “This is a share transfer agreement for five percent of Sterling Group. Sign it, and starting tomorrow, you come to the company with me.” I stared at it, stunned. “Are you… what is this?” “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for the family’s interests.” Elizabeth’s gaze was sharp. “William has completely lost his mind. I’m not going to stand by and watch him let some woman destroy this company. I need you to pull him away from her — and then crush him under your heel.” I stared at the document, my heart pounding. Then, without warning, a violent wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I clapped a hand over my mouth and bolted to the bathroom, retching over the sink. Elizabeth followed. She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes dropping to my stomach. “How many days late is your period?” My whole body went still. I counted the days. A week. I was a week late. “Go check.” She held out a pregnancy test. Five minutes later, I was sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at two bright red lines, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. On the night my marriage fell apart, I found out I was pregnant. Elizabeth stepped in and looked at the test. Her face was unreadable. “Good,” she said simply. “Now you have the strongest leverage of all.”

From that day on, Elizabeth put me through what could only be described as boot camp. She stopped asking me to do any housework. Three housekeepers were hired to take care of the estate. My entire daily schedule was restructured. Six in the morning — morning runs with her. “Your body is your most important asset. You’re carrying two lives now. Take care of yourself.” In the mornings, she brought in a top-tier financial advisor and a business mentor to teach me how to read financial reports and analyze market trends. “You have to keep control of the money yourself. If you can’t even read a balance sheet, how are you going to hold your own against William?” Afternoons were packed with intensive courses — etiquette, negotiation tactics, and psychology. “Wipe that pitiful look off your face. Straighten your back, lift your chin. You are a co-ruler of this family, not William’s accessory.” In the evenings, she would personally walk me through Sterling Group’s recent operations, breaking down every decision William had made. I was like a dried-out sponge, soaking up everything desperately. I stopped crying, because Elizabeth was right — tears solved nothing. And William? After that night at the restaurant, he completely fell apart. His cards were frozen, his signing authority stripped, and at the company, Elizabeth had him boxed in at every turn. He came crawling to me for peace. He started coming home on time every day, buying me designer bags, jewelry, even dropping to his knees begging for forgiveness. “Eve, I was wrong. I swear, things with Daisy are completely over. That day, I only took her to dinner because I felt sorry for her…” I sat on the sofa, watching him sob and break down, and felt absolutely nothing. If this had been before, I would have caved immediately. But now, all I felt was a deep, nauseating disgust. “William, do you think that just because I’m pregnant, I can’t leave you?” I stared at him, my voice ice-cold. He froze for a moment, his eyes shifting away. “Eve, how can you say that? I genuinely love you. I love our baby…” “Save it.” I stood up and looked down at him. “Starting today, we sleep in separate rooms. You’d better pray you don’t make any mistakes at the company — because if your mother can freeze your cards, I can have you thrown out of Sterling Group entirely.” William stared up at me, like he was looking at a stranger. He probably never imagined it — that the wife who had once bent to his every wish could turn into someone like this. Elizabeth watched it all unfold, a faint, cold smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She began lifting me up in every public setting she could. She brought me to top-tier business dinners, introducing me to the heavyweights of the industry. “This is my daughter-in-law, Evelyn Woods. Going forward, she will be taking full charge of several of Sterling Group’s investment projects.” At first, the looks people gave me were dismissive — they assumed I was just some trophy wife who’d secured her position by getting pregnant. But after a few exchanges, they realized I could negotiate entirely in English without missing a beat, and I could pinpoint the weak spots in any deal with precision. My reputation began to spread through the circles. I was no longer Mrs. Sterling. I was Ms. Woods. The way William looked at me shifted — from guilt, to shock, and finally to a deep, uneasy mix of wariness and flattery. He was beginning to see it. The business empire he was so proud of was slowly being carved away, piece by piece, by me and Elizabeth. He started working overtime to prove himself, desperate to win me back. He took over every chore around the house, fussed over my every need, and if I so much as furrowed my brow, he’d spend the next half hour on edge. But I knew the truth. He wasn’t afraid of losing me. He was afraid of losing his position. “That’s how men are. The more you give in to them, the less they value you. Leave them out in the cold, and suddenly they’re begging.” Elizabeth said, cradling her coffee, watching William wash my car in the driveway, her tone laced with mockery. I looked at her, and something complicated stirred inside me. “Why are you helping me like this?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting somewhere far away. “Because I don’t want you to end up walking the same road I did.” Her voice dropped. “William’s father was exactly the same. I built this company with him from nothing, side by side. And on the day it went public, he walked in with his mistress right in front of me.”

I stared at her, stunned. I had never known — that someone as formidable as Elizabeth had once carried a humiliation like that. “I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I spent five years methodically stripping him of every decision-making power he had, and in the end, I pushed him out of the company completely.” Elizabeth turned to look at me, her eyes sharp as a blade. “Eve, remember this — marriage is a game. There’s no such thing as both sides winning. Either you win, or you lose. Never put your faith in a man’s conscience.” Daisy hadn’t given up. A woman who had spent her life using men as shortcuts — how could she ever let go of a tree that had been feeding her so steadily? When William cut off her money, she found other ways to harass him. When he stopped answering her calls, she kept dialing from different numbers. And then, one Saturday afternoon, a call came through on the house landline. At the time, Elizabeth was in the living room having tea, and I was going over documents for an acquisition deal. William had just come downstairs. The butler answered the phone, then paused. “Ma’am, it’s a call for Mr. Sterling.” William’s expression shifted instantly. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, reaching for the phone to hang up. But I was faster. I walked over and hit the speakerphone button. “Will! Why are you ignoring me? I’m pregnant!” Daisy’s sharp, wailing voice echoed through the spacious living room like a bomb going off, sucking all the air out of the space in an instant. The color drained from William’s face. His knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed to the floor. “What the hell are you talking about?! We’ve been over for a long time!” he screamed at the phone, his voice shaking. “I’m not making this up! I’m two months along! Will, you can’t just abandon me — you told me you’d divorce that frump of yours and marry me…” I listened calmly. Strangely, I didn’t feel even a flicker of anger. Just a hollow kind of amusement. I glanced over at Elizabeth. She set down her teacup, rose slowly and deliberately, and walked over to William. Crack. A sharp, vicious slap landed across William’s face. He stumbled from the force of it, blood immediately trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You disgusting piece of trash.” Elizabeth’s eyes were ice cold. “You’ve dragged this family’s name through the mud.” “Mom, I didn’t know — I swear I didn’t know she was pregnant…” William pressed a hand to his face, his words tumbling out in a panicked mess. “You didn’t know?” Elizabeth let out a cold laugh. “You couldn’t keep yourself in check, so now you deal with the consequences. Call the lawyers. Now. I want the remaining thirty percent of Sterling Group transferred entirely into Eve’s name.” William’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with horror. “Mom! Are you out of your mind?! That’s the backbone of the company! If you give it all to her, what does that leave me?” “It leaves you nothing — because that’s what you are.” Elizabeth jabbed a finger at him. “Starting today, you’re just a salaried employee. Eve is Sterling Group’s majority shareholder. And if you don’t like it, get out of this house right now. Go find your little mistress and figure it out on your own.” William completely fell apart. He knew Elizabeth never made empty threats. He dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud, wrapping his arms around my legs and holding on for dear life. “Eve. Honey. Please. Talk to my mom for me. I can’t lose the company — I can’t. I will never acknowledge that child, I swear. I’ll make her get rid of it right now. The only child I’ll ever claim is the one you’re carrying.” Watching him grovel like that made my stomach turn. I shook him off with a firm kick and looked down at him. “William, you’re pathetic.” I turned toward the phone. “Did you hear that, Daisy? He wants you to terminate the pregnancy. If you want money, take him to court. Though I’ll warn you — there’s nothing left in his name.” Then I pulled the phone cord out of the wall. That afternoon, the lawyers arrived. William signed the share transfer agreement with red-rimmed eyes and trembling hands. From that moment on, I was the true power behind Sterling Group. And William became just another salaried employee working under me.

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My boyfriend keeps choosing his bitch intern over me. So I cut his place in my future. I stand next to the self-check-in kiosk in Boston South Station and tell my boyfriend, Gavin, we’re done. “Because your seat isn’t next to mine?” He laughs. “Yes.” He’s still laughing. He pulls out his phone and taps record. “Fine. You said it. Don’t take it back.” We’ve known each other since we were seven. Together since eighteen. He thinks I can’t leave him. He doesn’t know this train ticket is just an excuse. I refunded the one he booked for me. I changed my destination. This time, I’m out. In a few hours, we’ll be in two different cities, living two completely different lives. … Gavin holds the phone in front of my face. The recording bar is still moving. I don’t change my expression. “May 23, 2026. Day 2,591. Aria Bennett and Gavin Hayes are broken up.” He freezes for a second. Then shakes his head, almost amused. “Okay. How long is it this time? Three days? Four?” He scrolls back through his phone and taps another recording. “Gavin… I miss you so much… I take it back, please don’t break up with me…” My own voice spills out — drunk, crying, loud enough that people nearby turn to look. “This one’s from three months ago,” he says, smiling. He keeps scrolling. I push the phone away from his face. “I mean it this time.” He looks up. The smile fades. “Just for a seat.” His voice drops. “Really, Aria?” Yes. Really. …… A group of us planned this Cape Cod trip for this weekend. Gavin’s intern, Lily Sutton, insists on tagging along. So he refunded everyone’s original tickets and rebooked the entire group on Amtrak Acela. He and the rest are all in Car 2. I’m in Car 10. Alone. The seat next to him? Saved for Lily. And just to make sure I saw it — he posted the screenshot on Instagram. Who’d drop everything to travel with you on a whim? Two seat numbers, side by side. Like two needles in my chest. …… “Aria, don’t be like this.” He sighs. “I missed you the first time I booked. By the time I noticed, Car 10 was all that was left.” “It’s four hours. You don’t need to be jealous.” He says it like I’m overreacting. Like I’m the unreasonable one. I take a breath. “You don’t get it. I’m not jealous about who sits next to you for four hours.” “Got it, got it.” He cuts in. “Then how about this — I book flights right now, just you and me. Done?” “Gavin! Are you switching to flights? Can I come? I’ve never flown before.” Lily slides up out of nowhere. She hands Gavin an Americano like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then sips her own iced latte through the straw. She notices the tension and adds, sweetly: “Sorry, Aria — I didn’t know what you liked. I’m so used to grabbing his Americano and my latte, I forgot to ask you.” I turn to leave. She grabs my arm. “Aria, please don’t get the wrong idea.” “I’m just an intern. Gavin and I are just friends. My finals are coming up and I’m super stressed. He’s only inviting me out so I can decompress.” “Don’t let stuff like this come between you two.” “Stuff like this?” I laugh, cold. “Asking my boyfriend out to a movie. Alone. That’s stuff like this?” “Sending him photos of you trying on dresses. Stuff like this?” “Forcing yourself onto our trip when no one wants you there. Stuff like this?” “You’re not clueless. You’re just shameless. You know exactly where the line is, and you walk right over it every time.” “You want him so badly? Take him.” Lily’s eyes fill up instantly. She drops her head and bites her lip. “Aria, enough!” Gavin pulls out a tissue and hands it to her. “I get that you’re upset. Take it out on me. Why are you yelling at her?” Her tears roll right on cue. “Gavin… don’t fight. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come.” She turns and walks toward the exit. Gavin sighs and goes after her. The station is loud. Crowded. I can’t breathe. I watch his back disappear into the crowd. Seven years. And I might as well have been no one.

I packed until 5 a.m. last night. My head is splitting. I walk past the Starbucks to grab a coffee and I hear them before I see them — Gavin’s friends, all sitting together near the gate. “Where’s Aria? Why isn’t she with you guys?” “They’re fighting again. She’s threatening to walk out again.” A short laugh. “Before the trip even starts? What is it this time?” “He didn’t save her the seat next to him.” “That’s it?” Someone shrugs. “Honestly, dude. Only you could put up with her.” Gavin pushes his hair back from his forehead. “Yeah, I need a minute. I’ll deal with her once we hit Cape Cod.” Another guy chimes in. “Aria’s only like that because you let her be. You made your bed.” “Honestly? Lily’s a way easier kind of girl. Sweet. Chill. Hey Lily, what’s your type? Could you go for a guy like me?” Lily covers her mouth and laughs. Looks like Gavin already smoothed things over with her. Before she can answer, Gavin kicks the guy’s shin under the table. “Back off.” Then he turns to Lily, softer now. “Stay away from guys like him. He’s burned through more girlfriends than he can count. If he tries to add you on Instagram — don’t accept it.” The whole group erupts. “Damn, Gavin. A little protective?” “You bring her along but won’t let her near any of us? What’s your deal?” “Saving her for yourself?” Lily blushes hard. “Guys, stop. Even if I liked someone like Gavin — he wouldn’t go for me.” Every head turns toward Gavin. He just smiles. Says nothing. Lily laughs at herself. “See? He’s not denying it. So fine, guys — someone set me up, please.” Then Gavin says, slow and easy. “I never said that.” Someone whistles. The whole group cracks up. “Oh — wait. Oh no.” Lily suddenly counts heads on her fingers. Pulls out her phone. Her face changes. “God. I underbooked the rooms.” “I just looked at the headcount when I booked. Four guys, three girls. I only got three rooms…” She scrolls fast. “Everything’s sold out now. What are we gonna do?” She looks up, sees me, and walks straight toward me. “Aria, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” “The hotel next door still has one room. It’s like a thousand dollars more — but Aria, you’re richer than me, right? Could you grab it?” I look at her flatly. “You messed up. Why am I paying for it?” Her face crumples. “Aria… I’m just an intern. I’m not even out of school. I don’t make much…” I cut her off. “You’re the one who insisted on booking everyone’s rooms. Everyone paid you. If you can’t handle it, don’t volunteer for it.” She drops her head and starts crying. “Enough.” Gavin walks over, voice light. “It’s just a room. Just book another one. Aria, you’re not a kid. Relax.” I smile. “Relax while your intern walks all over me?” Lily looks up at Gavin through her tears. “I swear I didn’t mean it.” Gavin lowers his voice and turns to me. “Aria. Lily’s not playing games. You’re being unfair to her.” “I’ll book you a sea-view room. End of discussion. Drop it.” “I’m the one who needs to drop it?” I laugh again. Louder this time. My phone rings suddenly. I turn to walk away and answer it. Gavin grabs my wrist. Hard. “Aria.” His voice is low now. “We got through seven hard years together. And now you’re throwing a fit over a seat?” My skin goes pale where he’s holding me. I yank my arm free. A red mark blooms across my wrist. I stare down at it. I see it clearly. Seven years. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I was his charity case.

I step outside the station and pick up. “Aria, what time do you land at LaGuardia? I’ll come get you.” My best friend Naomi laughs on the other end. “Two in the afternoon.” “You’re actually moving to New York? Gavin’s letting you?” “I broke up with him.” She pauses. “Fine. But — are you really gonna be okay leaving him?” I think about it for two seconds. “Yeah. I am.” I’m serious. When I was seven, I was in a car accident. It wasn’t bad. But it scared me so much I stopped speaking. For three months, I didn’t say a single word. The boys at school made it a game. They tore up my notebooks. Hid my backpack. Pushed me around. Gavin dragged the worst one into the principal’s office himself. He came out with a bloody nose. Wiped it on his sleeve. Grinned at me. “It’s done. Anyone messes with you, they go through me.” I stared at him for a long time. And then I said my first word in three months. “Thank you.” He froze. Then he took off running down the hallway, yelling to everyone he passed. “She talked! She just talked!” After that, we were inseparable. Sixteen years. He was woven into every part of who I was. Until three months ago. Gavin’s firm hired a new intern — Lily Sutton. That’s when everything changed. He changed his lock screen. He swapped it for a landscape shot. From a team retreat at his company. It used to be us on Cape Cod — a wave crashing in, him hoisting me onto his back, me laughing so hard I’m crying. I didn’t ask why. He didn’t explain. Later, Lily kept causing fights, and they kept leading to breakups. Every time we split, I couldn’t sleep. I had to drink myself into bed. Until last month. I was leaving the office at eleven at night. Just as I was about to head home, I heard footsteps behind me. I walked faster. So did they. I called Gavin. Once. Twice. Thirteen times. He didn’t pick up. I panicked. I missed a step on the curb. My ankle rolled, and I hit the pavement hard. My finger must have hit something — because suddenly, the line was ringing. I just realized that my screen had cracked, but the call screen was still open. It connected in under two seconds. The background on his end was dead quiet. I could hear him stand up. “Aria. Don’t hang up. Keep talking to me. Tell me where you are.” I told him what happen to me. “Give me ten minutes.” He was in front of me in nine. His hair was damp at the temples from the run. He crouched down and lifted my ankle into his hands like it was glass. His thumb pressed lightly against the swelling. “Does this hurt?” I nodded. He didn’t say anything. Just stood up. Turned around. Crouched again with his back to me. “Get on.” Later, Gavin explained why he didn’t hear the call. He said Lily had bought an extra movie ticket. Said it would’ve been rude to waste it, so he went with her. He’d put his phone on silent. I looked at him. I could feel something just shift between us. The big screen in the station cycles to a new ad now. It’s the new Forbes cover. From across the waiting area, one of Gavin’s friends points. “Hey — isn’t that Sebastian Crowe?!” I look up. I look at his face. Then I look toward Gavin. He’s scrolling on his phone. Lily is leaning into his side. He doesn’t move away. My phone buzzes in my pocket. “I’ll be waiting in New York.” A second one comes right after. “Pick you up at LaGuardia.”

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