Category: English

My wife Sera had started a new company in Britain and was looking for my investment. I went in undercover as a new hire to see it for myself. On my first day, I spotted a young man sauntering past, a cigar dangling from his lips, a glass of whiskey in his hand, swirling the ice. I stepped forward and confronted him. “Company policy strictly prohibits smoking and drinking in the office.” But the young man just threw the whiskey right in my face. “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” I was about to retaliate, but the HR manager quickly stepped in to hold me back. Mr. Henderson cringed, bowing slightly toward the young man. “Mr. Shaw, my apologies! He’s a new employee who just started today and doesn’t know the rules!” Then, Mr. Henderson tugged at my sleeve. “Apologize to Mr. Shaw right now! Mr. Shaw is our CEO, Ms. Vance’s husband.” I just smiled and immediately sent Sera a message: “So you have a new husband. I assume he’ll be funding your company then?” Mr. Henderson’s face was plastered with a sycophantic grin as he turned to Damian. “Please don’t mind the new guy. I just bought a bottle of Lafite yesterday; I’ll have someone send it to your office.” Then, he shot me a warning glance and pulled me aside. “You have a full day’s work ahead. You’re not leaving until it’s done!” With that, Mr. Henderson ushered me into his office. Once the door was shut, he let out a sigh. “We desperately need someone with your talent. But remember, whatever you do, do not cross Damian Shaw in this company. He’s our Vice President and our CEO’s husband.” I nodded, not ready to reveal the truth just yet. But just as I sat down and started reviewing some financial statements, Damian’s angry shouts echoed from outside. “Sera Vance chased me for years, practically begged me to be her VP, and only then did I deign to marry her. And you, a worthless newbie, actually dared to disrespect me?” With that, the office door was kicked open. Damian, clearly drunk, propped his foot up on an office chair. He pointed to his Italian handmade leather shoes and sneered, “Newbie, wipe the dust off my shoes. Do that, and I’ll generously forgive you for this morning’s stunt!” Damian’s foot dangled provocatively in front of me. The sole just so happened to reveal a long, stamped serial number. Weren’t those the custom pair I’d had made for last month’s Global Investment Forum? I’d only worn them once before misplacing them somewhere. A smirk played on my lips. “How desperate are you, clinging to my sloppy seconds? You act like you’ve found gold.” “Custom shoes mold to the first wearer. They never fit another.” Damian’s face flushed crimson like a fighting rooster’s. He roared, “You broken loser, what the hell do you know? My wife, Sera Vance, bought these especially for me!” I scoffed. “Still second-hand!” Snickers from employees outside occasionally drifted in. Damian jumped up, yelling at Mr. Henderson. “Company regulations state that new employees must first intern on the production line. He walks in and dives straight into an office? Are you playing favorites? Do you want me to tell Sera Vance right now and get you fired too?!” After that, Damian stormed out of the office, shouting to the crowd outside. “Who the hell wants to get fired? Laughing during work hours? If I catch you, you’re GONE!” Done yelling, he flipped me off. “Go haul boxes in the factory, pretty boy! I’ll make you sweat blood till you beg for mercy!” With a final slam, he shut the office door. Mr. Henderson frowned, looking distressed. “Why’d you have to stir up trouble with that walking nightmare?” “You’ll have to go through the factory tour anyway. Just bear with him a little. Our company really needs talent like you. The benefits are good.” I actually wanted to see the factory. Vance Corp going bankrupt was inevitable. If I could acquire this entire facility for my own company, it would save me a ton of hassle. As soon as I stepped onto the factory floor, Damian had already arrived, yelling, “Come on out, everyone! New guy’s here! Come teach this newbie how to behave!” At this, many employees lowered their heads, nodding respectfully towards Damian. Just as Damian was basking in his glory, he noticed one employee hadn’t moved. He immediately started scolding Leo Maxwell, the production manager. “Didn’t you see everyone else bowing to welcome their boss? Why isn’t that employee moving from their station when they see me?” Leo patiently explained, “That station is crucial, it needs to be manned 24/7, or the production line will shut down!” Damian walked up and slapped Leo across the face. “I said, get him over here!”

Leo clutched his face, his eyes, initially filled with hurt, slowly hardening into anger. He shouted, his voice ringing out, “Security! Get Damian Shaw out of here! He’s disrupting production!” I secretly gave Leo a mental thumbs-up. This guy, I wanted him. Damian pulled out his phone, filming the workshop as he threatened, “Let’s see who dares? I’m Sera Vance’s husband!” Leo pointed at Damian’s phone. “Get his phone! Filming is strictly prohibited in the factory!” Damian kicked me in the butt. “Go beat up that ignorant idiot, and I’ll promote you to production manager today!” This guy, Damian, actually wanted to use me to do his dirty work? If I had really been just an intern, caught in this impossible situation, he might have actually trapped me. The kick sent me staggering forward a couple of steps before I regained my balance. I spun around and landed a punch on Damian. Damian roared in fury, giving an order. “Hit him!” The office building was already filled with Damian’s lackeys. At his command, they all rushed out, surrounding me in a thick crowd. I grabbed Damian by his collar and slammed his head into a rubber baton held by one of his bodyguards. Damian was on a video call with Sera, whining and complaining, “Sera, maybe I should just resign! Not only is that puny production manager messing with me, but even the new intern is bullying me!” Just then, Damian’s head hit the rubber baton with a dull THUD. Damian shrieked, “Ow! He’s killing me! This intern is trying to murder the CEO’s husband!” His phone clattered to the floor. Sera Vance, on the video call, had a face like thunder. She roared, “You’ve all lost your minds! Manager Maxwell from production is suspended, and that new intern is fired immediately! I have a very important meeting right now, I’ll deal with you all when I get back!” I leaned into the phone’s view for a moment, my voice calm. “If I were you, I’d come back right away. This meeting of yours isn’t important anymore. Vance Corp’s biggest problem isn’t finding investors, it’s how many days it has left.” Sera was stunned. “Why are you at the factory?” I spoke as evenly as I could. “I’m the intern you just fired!” “Get here within ten minutes. And you’d better explain why your ‘husband’ here is named Shaw.” Damian snatched my phone and smashed it to the ground, yelling at everyone in the factory, “Everyone at Vance Corp saw it!” “Mess with me, and my wife comes flying to my rescue. Now, you all kill this arrogant intern, and I’ll make sure there are no repercussions!” Even if I was a good fighter, being surrounded meant I was at a serious disadvantage. I quickly speed-dialed my bodyguards to hurry over. Damian grinned maliciously, signaling his bodyguards to swarm me. Several men pinned me down, forcing me to my knees. “So tough now, are you? Why aren’t you so tough anymore?” Damian punched me in the stomach. I gritted my teeth, glaring fiercely at him. “Still defiant? Get me a steel pipe!” Damian grabbed my hair, driving a fist into my face. “Let’s see how tough you are after I break your arm.” Just as he raised the steel pipe, a woman’s voice cut through the air, stopping him cold. “Alexander!”

It was Sera. Through the bodyguards, I saw her rushing in, her sky-high heels clicking frantically. “Where’s that intern?” “Right here.” Damian smugly stepped aside. “What’s this, any riff-raff can get into Vance Corp now?” “This bastard even dared to impersonate your husband.” Damian put his arm around Sera, not noticing her pale face. Sera pulled away from Damian’s arm, stumbling as she walked towards me. “Let me explain…” I spat out a mouthful of blood, staring intensely at her. “Explain what? Explain that you’re keeping a mistress on the side?” “Sera, what are you scared of?” Damian frowned. “He’s just an intern. It’d be easy to crush him, wouldn’t it?” “Shut up!” Sera roared, then SLAP, she slapped Damian across the face. Her voice trembled. “He’s the Chairman of our company!” “How dare you provoke him?!” Damian’s eyes widened in horror. “Chairman?! Then…” “So what?!” Damian’s expression changed. “Even if he’s the Chairman, we’re out here in the middle of nowhere. If we quietly get rid of him, who would ever know?” He slowly tried to coax her, “Are you content always being beneath him? If he dies, that position is yours.” A flicker of struggle crossed Sera’s eyes. I realized something was wrong and yelled, “Sera Vance, don’t you dare!” “What’s there to not dare?” Damian’s lips curled into a smile, and he viciously kicked me in the knee. “I told you, out here, I’m the law.” “You mess with me, you’ll go in walking, but you’ll be carried out in a body bag!” I looked at Sera, giving her one last chance. But she avoided my gaze, took the steel pipe Damian handed her, Her voice was thick with a conflicted regret. “You brought this on yourself.” “Don’t blame me.” “Blame yourself for showing up at the wrong time.” Just as she swung the steel pipe, a red dot appeared on Sera’s forehead. A violent gust of wind roared through, and a helicopter touched down on the lawn outside. One by one, armed bodyguards spilled out of the aircraft. “Nobody move!” My people had arrived!

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My husband came home with a nanny one day, and she had a five-year-old boy in tow. He told me the child was adopted from an orphanage. But late that night, in the basement, I saw Michael savagely making out with the nanny. “Thank you, my love, for giving me a son.” The nanny trembled, whimpering softly. “So when are you finally going to divorce her and marry me?” Five years ago, I was badly burned on my back saving Michael from a fire, leaving me unable to have children. He had held me then, crying hysterically, repeating over and over that it didn’t matter if we never had children, as long as he had me. It was all a lie. I stood in the shadows, a cold, mocking smile twisting my lips. That kind of man, tainted to the core, was not worth keeping. Victoria POV Michael and I had been married for nine years, known in our social circle as the quintessential power couple. That perception shattered completely the moment I saw Michael holding a five-year-old boy. The reason was simple: that child wasn’t mine. Michael, usually so aloof in public, was now softly coaxing the child in a doting tone. “Alex, listen to your mom.” My mind went blank with a loud buzz, as if I couldn’t hear anything else. Five years ago, I was badly burned on my back saving Michael from a fire, and I lost the ability to have children after that. I remember Michael kneeling by my hospital bed, clutching my hand tightly, his eyes red as he swore, “I don’t want children, Victoria, I only want you.” Those vows still echoed in my ears, yet the scene before me crushed everything. He was holding a child, a child he had with another woman, calling his name so tenderly. I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle my sobs, and spun on my heel, fleeing. At the gallery entrance, my friend Jennifer looked startled by my pale face. I held her, my fingertips cold, my voice dry and hoarse. “Jennifer, I need you to look into Michael. He might have a son.” Only then did I finally understand: all these years he had held me like a precious treasure, it was all just a sweet, cruel deception. When I got home, I received a text from Michael. “Three more days until my business trip ends. Miss me?” followed by a kiss emoji. I stared at the message, tears streaming down my face. For the past five years, he’d always gone to Europe for a month every autumn. I always thought he was working tirelessly for his business empire, but now I understood. That month was for his other family. Outside, snow had begun to fall, silently blanketing the old oak trees beyond my window. I scrolled through the files Jennifer had sent. The woman’s name was Emma, and she’d grown up with Michael. He’d once gotten into a fight for her on the football field, breaking a bone. He’d bought her a rare antique wristwatch. He’d even defied his entire family to marry her. All those grand, dramatic gestures from our past… they just twisted the knife deeper into the gaping wound of his betrayal. My phone rang, Michael’s name flashing on the screen. I bit my lip hard, letting it ring again and again, but eventually, I answered with a trembling hand. “Why did it take you so long to pick up?” His voice on the other end was as gentle as ever. “Are you being disobedient again, not eating properly?” My fingers curled into fists. He used to hold me like this too, laughing softly as he asked, “Are you not eating properly again? If you get too thin, I’ll worry sick.” I shook my head. “No.” He would then kiss my earlobe, whispering with a low laugh, “Such a naughty girl? Victoria, do I need to keep an eye on you at all times?” I used to think we’d be like this forever. For the first time, I lied to him, my voice muffled, like I was genuinely sick. “A bit of a cold. I’m already in bed.” “A cold?” His tone immediately tensed. “Is it serious? I’ll fly back right now.” “No need.” I quickly stopped him, a hint of detachment in my voice that I hadn’t even realized was there. “I’ve taken medicine. I’ll be fine after a good sleep.” I was about to hang up when a woman’s languid, intimate voice came through the receiver. “Michael, Alex is asleep. We can-” The call was abruptly disconnected by Michael. He was with that woman right now. I stared at my silent phone, unable to hold back any longer, and burst into tears. Jennifer rushed into the room, pulling me into a heartbroken embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here.”

Victoria POV When I opened my eyes again, the window outside was dazzlingly white. “Victoria, how are you feeling? Is there anything else bothering you?” I heard a familiar voice, and as soon as my eyes opened, I saw Jennifer’s face, etched with worry. Jennifer sat by the bed, her eyes bloodshot. She must have stayed up all night watching over me. “I’m fine.” Memories from before I passed out flooded my mind, and I forced myself to sit up. “I’m sorry to have worried you.” Jennifer nodded, her voice filled with lingering fear. “You scared me half to death yesterday. I was genuinely afraid you’d do something drastic.” Mid-sentence, my phone rang. I answered, my voice already calm. “Richard.” “Victoria, why is your voice a little hoarse? Did you pull another all-nighter?” “No, Richard. Isn’t the Zurich branch short on staff? I’d like to go help out there.” My father on the other end paused. “Why the sudden urge to go to Switzerland?” “I want a change of scenery.” I glanced out the window. “Jennifer is also going back next month. I want to go with her.” My father was silent for a long time, then finally sighed. “Alright, whatever you want.” I hung up, and Jennifer looked at me worriedly. “Are you really sure about this?” I nodded. The lawyer had emailed the draft of our divorce papers. I stared at the screen, every word stinging my eyes. I still hadn’t figured out how to bring it up with Michael. Too much bound us together: the business alliance between our families, decades of friendship. As I was leaving Jennifer’s apartment and getting into my car, I saw a familiar figure. Michael. Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be away for three more days? The man wore a perfectly tailored custom suit, his figure tall and lean, but his eyes showed signs of fatigue. He walked quickly, opening the car door. “Your voice sounded off on the phone. I was worried, so I flew back last night.” He said, pulling me into his embrace. That embrace, which once brought me immense comfort, now made me tremble uncontrollably. My mind was filled with Emma’s voice and the image of that child calling him “Daddy.” I clenched my hands, forcing myself not to push him away. He used to hold me like this too, laughing softly as he asked, “What are you overthinking now? Hm?” I shook my head. “Nothing.” He pulled me closer, whispering with a low laugh in my ear, “My sweet little liar, you’re never allowed to leave me. No matter where you run, I’ll find you. Understand?” I used to think I could never escape, but this time, I wanted to leave on my own. “You look like you’ve lost weight.” He caressed my cheek with his thumb, his eyes full of tenderness. “Are you not eating properly again when I’m not home?” I couldn’t understand how a man who’d been with his mistress the night before could so calmly say such things to his wife. I didn’t want to explain, just shook my head. “No, I’m just a little tired.” I could see he was about to say more, but my gaze caught a slender figure standing a short distance away. Emma. She was in a white dress, her long hair loose over her shoulders, looking utterly fragile. Just then, Michael’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen; I saw it too. It was Emma calling. Michael’s face looked troubled. He quickly hung up and kissed my forehead apologetically. “Something urgent came up at the office. I have to go there. You wait for me at home, and tonight I’ll take you to your favorite Italian restaurant.” With that, he hurried into his car. After the car drove away, Emma slowly walked towards me in her high heels. “Ms. Victoria,” she said, introducing herself with a smile, her eyes full of scrutiny and challenge. Seeing me, Emma knew I had figured everything out, and the smile on her lips deepened. “It seems Ms. Victoria already knows about Alex and me.” She paused, her voice brimming with ill-concealed triumph. “Ms. Victoria, Michael’s wife will only ever be me.”

Victoria POV I took a taxi and followed Emma’s car to a private clinic. Her car had just pulled up to the entrance. I paid the driver and followed her inside. I walked to the end of the hallway and saw a boy lying in a hospital room. It was Alex. His face was pale, an IV drip in his arm. Michael was yelling at a doctor in a white coat. “Why did he suddenly get a high fever? Is this how you take care of patients?!” “Michael, calm down!” The doctor seemed quite familiar with Michael and tried to reason with him. “What good does it do to yell at me?!” I hid behind the wall, my heart growing colder with every word I heard. “I told you long ago, if you only want one child, you shouldn’t keep Emma around! And now? The child cries without her, and you can’t bring yourself to be firm. What kind of mess is this?” “Victoria is the only woman I love, but the family cannot be without an heir.” Michael’s voice was weary. “Emma… she did bear me a child, after all. I can’t treat her badly.” The moment he finished speaking, the hospital room door opened. Emma walked in, carrying a cup of water, her eyes red. As soon as she saw the child on the bed, tears began to fall. “It’s all my fault… I should’ve looked after Alex better.” She sobbed, shoulders trembling, looking utterly helpless. Michael’s heart softened. He stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace, murmuring comfort. “Don’t blame yourself. Alex is our child. I will find the best doctor.” “Our child.” The words hit me like a blow, crushing my heart. Emma leaned into his embrace, sobbing, “Michael, I know I shouldn’t ask for anything, but as long as I can be with Alex as he grows up, I’ll be perfectly content…” Michael was touched by her words and raised his thumb to wipe away her tears. That intimate gesture stung my eyes. I clenched my hands, my fingernails digging into my flesh, but I felt no pain. The pain in my heart had already overshadowed everything else. I turned and left, my steps numb. Snow had started falling again outside. The flakes landed on my face, melting into icy streaks, making it impossible to tell if they were snow or tears. I walked into the corporate building, drenched. The receptionist looked up, startled by my disheveled appearance. “Ms. Victoria, what happened? Should I call Mr. Michael? He’ll be heartbroken if he sees you like this.” Those words, which would sound normal to anyone else, were the greatest irony to me. Heartbroken? He was busy being heartbroken over another woman right now. I said nothing, walking directly into the conference room and locking the door. I leaned against the door, slowly sliding down until I was on the floor. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried my face in my knees and wept uncontrollably. I thought I had become numb, but seeing that little family of three with my own eyes had completely broken me. Nine years of love, a childhood sweetheart connection, those moments of life-and-death reliance… it all meant nothing compared to “the family cannot be without an heir.” I don’t know how long I cried. Only when my tears ran dry did I lean against the wall and stand up. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My eyes were raw, my skin bloodless. A laugh escaped me. What was the point of crying? I changed into a spare business suit, transforming back into the aloof corporate heiress. I didn’t even glance at the string of messages and missed calls from Michael on my phone. In the evening, I dragged my exhausted body back to the mansion. I had decided: I would pack my things and leave tonight. But when I pushed open the front door, I saw Emma and Alex sitting in my living room.

Victoria POV The crystal chandelier in the living room shone brilliantly, but my gaze was utterly cold. Emma, dressed in a brand-new maid’s uniform, stood up immediately when she saw me and curtsied respectfully. “You’re back.” And the boy named Alex was busy smashing a limited-edition model car against the floor. It was from my favorite collection, one I’d worked hard to complete. “What is going on here?” My voice was as cold as ice. Michael hurried down from upstairs, forcing an unnatural smile. “Victoria, you’re back. This is… a nanny sent by my mother. She said the house was too empty, and she’s here to look after this child.” He gestured towards Alex, telling a pathetic lie. “My mother brought this child back from an orphanage. She felt sorry for him, so she brought him home to raise.” I was trembling with rage. “An orphanage? Michael, do you take me for a fool?” I pointed at the child, who was practically a carbon copy of him, my voice shaking. “Do you find it amusing to carve away at my heart, piece by piece, like this?” Seeing my genuine anger, Michael panicked. He stepped forward and grabbed my hand. “Victoria, don’t be angry,” he pleaded, eager to state his position. “If you don’t like him, I’ll send him away immediately!” His phony love only disgusted me. Alex seemed startled and suddenly burst into tears, pointing at me and screaming, “Bad woman! You’re bullying my mommy!” “Alex!” Michael snapped sternly. Emma immediately rushed over and hugged her son, then looked at Michael with red-rimmed eyes. “Sir, please don’t blame him. He’s just… he’s just shy around strangers.” Michael’s tone indeed softened. I looked at the glaring scene before me, feeling a chill run through my entire body. I yanked my hand free from Michael’s grasp and walked upstairs without a word. The bedroom door slammed shut, cutting off everything. Michael stood by the door for a while, murmuring a few comforting words, but when he heard no response, he turned and left. Not long after, my phone received a message. It was from Emma: “Ms. Victoria, if you lock Michael out, don’t blame him for coming to me for comfort.” I deleted the message and got up to leave the bedroom. The villa was quiet. I found myself walking towards the basement wine cellar door. It was ajar, a dim yellow light spilling out. I drew closer and distinctly heard a woman’s gasps and a man’s low grunts coming from inside. “Michael… be gentle… it hurts…” “Isn’t this what you asked for? Afraid of pain, yet you still tried to lure me down here?” Michael’s voice was hoarse and impatient, but his actions didn’t stop. “I’m warning you, Emma. Don’t provoke Victoria again, otherwise…” The woman’s moans drowned out the rest of his words. I froze in place, utterly cold. I lay back in bed just before dawn, staring blankly at the ceiling. Nine years of love, a whirlwind courtship. All of it shattered in this moment. This time, I was the one who didn’t want him.

Victoria POV The next morning, when I went downstairs, Emma had already taken off that irritating maid’s uniform. She wore a sea-green silk dress, her curves exquisitely outlined. Only then did I notice that Emma’s eyes and brows bore a slight resemblance to mine. No wonder Michael had chosen her. “You’re awake? Come have breakfast.” Emma greeted me warmly, as if she were the lady of the house. As she spoke, she deliberately turned sideways, revealing faint red marks on her neck, intimate and jarring. But what truly made my pupils constrict was the brooch pinned to her chest. A vintage brooch, set with a pigeon-blood ruby, dazzling and radiant. I recognized it. It was Michael’s family heirloom, passed down only to the lady of the house. I remembered years ago, Michael had asked his mother for this brooch for me, only to be coldly refused because I couldn’t have children. “A woman who can’t even bear children, how dare she wear our family’s heirloom?” His mother’s cutting words still echoed in my ears. And now, this brooch, symbolizing status and acceptance, was blatantly worn on the chest of a mistress. In that moment, I finally woke up. My previous notion of sparing the families decades of friendship, of not wanting to make things too ugly, seemed utterly ridiculous. It turned out that in his mother’s eyes, and even the entire family’s, Emma, the woman who could bear an heir, was already their recognized daughter-in-law. And I was merely a clown, kept in the dark, clinging to a position that wasn’t truly mine. Michael walked downstairs, dressed in fresh loungewear. He first exchanged a knowing glance with Emma, then quickly approached me, reaching out to feel my forehead, his face full of concern. “Why is your face so pale? Did you catch a chill last night? Don’t go to the office today, I’ll stay and keep you company.” I watched his brilliant acting, feeling a wave of nausea rise in my stomach. Staying with him for even one more second made me feel suffocated. He felt… dirty. “No need.” I coldly pushed his hand away. “There’s still a lot to do at the office.” Just then, Emma walked over with a cup of coffee, saying softly, “Michael, your coffee.” She naturally reached out to straighten his slightly disheveled collar. And Michael instinctively lowered his head, accommodating her actions. It was an incredibly familiar, habitual gesture. More hurtful than any deliberate display. The surrounding staff all gasped audibly. Michael also seemed to realize the impropriety and immediately stepped back, creating distance between himself and Emma. He picked up his jacket, walked to my side, and leaned down to press a light kiss on my forehead. “Wait for me to come back.” He used the same doting tone he had used last night in the wine cellar when speaking to the other woman.

Victoria POV After Michael left, I calmly finished my breakfast. I didn’t spare Emma another glance, walking straight upstairs to pack my luggage. All the things Michael had given me, filling an entire walk-in closet, were packed one by one. I called my assistant and instructed him to send them all to an auction house. “All proceeds are to be donated to charity in my name.” If I was going to cut ties, I would cut them completely. “Ms. Victoria, are you planning to run away from home?” Emma appeared behind me at some point, leaning against the doorframe, a triumphant smile on her face. “Well, a woman who can’t have children, occupying Michael’s wife’s position for so many years, it’s about time she made way.” Her words hit me squarely in my most painful spot. In the past, I might have been furious, lost control. But now, I just looked at her calmly. “Michael’s wife’s position? If you want it so badly, take it.” I pulled the already signed divorce papers from my bag and handed them to Emma. “Here.” Emma’s smile froze, her face a mask of shock as she stared at the document. I looked down at her, a hint of amusement in my voice. “You know how deep Michael’s feelings are for me. Getting him to willingly sign this won’t be easy.” I spoke like a queen bestowing a favor upon a petty schemer. “I’m giving you the divorce papers. If you’re capable, get him to sign it and bring it to me. If you’re not, then be prepared to be an unseen mistress for the rest of your life!” Emma’s face changed colors, but ultimately, temptation won over reason. She snatched the divorce papers, her eyes gleaming with greed and ecstasy. Though she felt suspicious of my swift and decisive relinquishment, she believed even more strongly that I was merely bluffing. How could a woman Michael had doted on for so many years truly be willing to let go? Watching Emma rush away with the document, a flicker of mockery crossed my eyes. After packing my last piece of luggage, I sat in the living room, quietly waiting for Jennifer to pick me up. My gaze swept across the empty living room, and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t seen Alex, the child, since morning. A faint unease stirred within me. Just then, the villa’s front door was violently pushed open from outside. Michael burst in, frantic, followed by his mother, Eleanor, her face ashen, and… Emma, weeping bitterly. “Victoria!” Emma came at me like a feral thing, slamming me hard toward the sharp corner of the side table. “Where is my Alex? What did you do to him?” The blow dazed me. My vision blurred as sharp pain shot through my elbow. I steadied myself and stared coldly at the frantic woman. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “How dare you lie!” Emma suddenly grabbed a fruit knife from the bowl, pressing its sharp tip to my throat. “You can’t stand my child because of some divorce papers? Victoria, how can you be so evil?”

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The company decided to downsize using what seemed like a fair method—an anonymous online vote. Whoever got the most votes would be let go. The boss gave us one day to cast our ballots. The next day, when Mr. Reid announced the results, I was shocked. The entire company had only 198 employees. All 197 votes went to me. I stood up with a bitter smile, ready to process my termination. But Mr. Reid stopped me. “Wait. Look at this first.” He opened the online voting system’s records. All 197 votes had been cast in the exact same second. I understood immediately—this wasn’t a fair vote at all! Mr. Harrison Reid announced: “The layoff is suspended for now. IT department, investigate this voting system first.” Then Harrison glanced at me. “Clara, you stay.” Vivian Matthews, the project manager, was the last to leave. As she passed by, she lightly patted my shoulder. “Clara, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” I nodded. When only Mr. Reid and I remained in the conference room, he placed a document in front of me. “This is your performance record for the past six months.” I looked down. My rating was “Outstanding.” “Why do you think an employee with perfect performance reviews would be unanimously voted out by the entire company?” Harrison’s question hung in the air. I stayed silent, my mind racing. Vivian always presented my PowerPoint presentations during work reports as “our team’s results.” Technical problems I’d solved after working until midnight were claimed as her achievements the next day. Last quarter’s most important project—she screwed it up, and I pulled three all-nighters to salvage it. I thought if I just worked hard and treated people kindly, I’d eventually earn recognition. Turns out, in their eyes, my tolerance just meant I could be pushed around. “Mr. Reid, why are you helping me?” I looked up at Harrison. Harrison leaned back in his chair. “I’m not helping you. I’m helping the company eliminate parasites. This company needs real talent.” I understood immediately. “I’m giving you one week,” Harrison said. “Find the parasite.” “I’ll need help.” I looked at him and stated my condition. Harrison seemed to have expected this. “IT will cooperate with you. Officially, starting now, you’ve been suspended and need to process your termination immediately.” “Alright.” I nodded. When I walked out of Harrison’s office, my coworkers’ laughter stopped abruptly. Vivian was the first to react. She walked over with her coffee mug. “Clara, finished talking with the boss? How’d it go? Everything okay?” I looked at her and smiled. “It’s fine.” “Mr. Reid asked me to resign. I’m leaving.” I clearly saw a flash of barely concealed triumph in her eyes. “What? How could this happen…” She covered her mouth dramatically, pretending to be dismayed. “Well, don’t be too upset. Think of it as a vacation. You can find work anywhere, right?” The surrounding coworkers chimed in. “Yeah, Clara, don’t take it to heart.” “Vivian’s right. A new job might be better for you anyway.” I looked at these people. They were like vultures circling. “Thanks for your concern, everyone.” After speaking, I turned and went back to my desk.

Early the next morning, I began processing my so-called termination. According to procedure, I needed to transfer all my unfinished work to the project manager—Vivian Matthews. She sat at my workstation with a handover checklist, like an inspector. The project she was responsible for—I’d pulled several all-nighters last month to finish it. “Why does this data look wrong?” Vivian pointed at a report on the screen. My heart sank. I leaned in to look. That was the final version I’d submitted last Friday. I’d checked it at least ten times. There couldn’t be any problems. “I remember everything was fine when I handed it to you.” “Really?” Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m misremembering, or maybe you accidentally messed it up?” She turned to a coworker at the next desk and smiled. “Well, Clara’s been under a lot of stress lately. Mistakes are understandable.” She said “understandable,” but her expression clearly said “see, she’s just incompetent.” “But it’s a small issue. I’ll fix it.” She appeared very magnanimous, picking up the mouse to help me correct it. I watched her randomly modify my spreadsheet, and a bad feeling rose in my chest. I couldn’t confront her on the spot. I needed evidence. I straightened up and casually picked up my water glass. “I’m going to get some water.” I turned toward the break room. She didn’t know I’d already started the screen recording function on my computer. Her every move was being captured. I lingered in the break area for a moment before returning to my desk. She had “found” three of my “mistakes.” By the end, I’d become a waste of space with questionable abilities in the entire department’s eyes. And she was the perfect manager who’d salvaged everything and showed mercy to her incompetent subordinate. The handover finished. I carried my small cardboard box, ready to leave. Vivian even “kindly” walked me to the elevator. “Clara, let’s keep in touch.” She waved at me with a smile, triumph practically overflowing from her eyes. I walked to a coffee shop at the corner across from the company and found the most secluded seat. I pulled out my USB drive and copied the video I’d just recorded. Putting on headphones, I slowed the playback speed to one-third. At exactly fifteen minutes and three seconds into the video. I clearly saw Vivian’s fingers, in the gap between rapidly switching windows. Precisely click open a subfolder in my work files. Then she selected a document named “Final Backup – DO NOT TOUCH.” Without hesitation, she pressed Delete. That document was the most original, most complete backup of real data for the project she was responsible for. My heartbeat nearly stopped in that instant.

I extracted that crucial video segment and sent it to Harrison via encrypted email. Five minutes later, my phone vibrated. It was Harrison’s brief reply. “Continue.” Very much his style. He didn’t want the process. He wanted results. One video could only prove Vivian was guilty of deleting my files, but it wasn’t enough to directly link her to those 197 votes. I needed more direct evidence. I pulled out my work phone and dialed an encrypted number. The call was answered quickly. “Hello, Clara.” It was Lucas Gray from IT, the person Harrison had assigned to help with my investigation. He was a recent college grad with great technical skills but an introverted personality. He rarely spoke at the company. I’d once helped him out when older employees were giving him a hard time. “Lucas, can you check if there were any unusual operations on Vivian’s work computer yesterday between nine and ten AM?” I asked in a low voice. “Sure, give me a moment.” Lucas agreed readily. I picked up the now-cold coffee in front of me. My brain was like a machine running at high speed, replaying every detail of the situation. Why would Vivian do this? Just to get rid of me and eliminate a potential competitor? No, the cost was too high. The file she deleted must hide a bigger secret. Half an hour later, Lucas called back. “Clara, I checked. There’s nothing.” His voice sounded a bit dejected. “She just sent and received emails, browsed the intranet—exactly like a normal employee.” The lead had gone cold. But I wasn’t giving up. I leaned back on the coffee shop sofa, forcing myself to calm down. Same-second voting. That absolutely couldn’t be 197 people manually clicking. It must have used some kind of script or program that completed all operations instantly through a single command. If there was no problem with Vivian’s own computer… Then where was the “server” that executed this program? That platform that could centrally control, or rather, could be exploited for unified operations… A thought suddenly flashed through my mind. Cloud server! The company had rented a large cloud server so employees could work remotely anytime, anywhere. All employee accounts could log in through specific ports and authorizations. That platform had extremely high permissions. Theoretically, if someone obtained high enough access, they could absolutely perform batch operations. I immediately grabbed my phone and called Lucas again. “Lucas, don’t check individual computers! Check the cloud server! Check all backend login logs at exactly 9:31 AM yesterday!”

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I hit the $100 million lottery jackpot. I came home for the holidays, ready to share the news with my family. But Mom beat me to it with an announcement of her own: “I sold the rental property for top dollar! I’m giving Derek two million, and Jessica two million!” She glanced at me sideways. “You’ll stay here with me. Take care of me in my old age.” I was confused. “What about me? What’s my share?” She frowned impatiently. “That’s four million total. It’s already been split… Family resources should go to those with the most potential.” “You’re just a high school dropout with no future. How dare you compare yourself to them? Derek has his Ivy League PhD, and Jessica has her MBA from a top business school. Only they deserve it.” I clutched the lottery ticket in my pocket and asked: “So if you become worthless in my eyes, does that mean I don’t have to care for you when you’re elderly?” Mom shot to her feet and pointed at my head, screaming: “Clara, you ungrateful brat! Over some money from selling a property, you won’t even care for me in my old age!” I sat there, looking up at her. “You abandoned me first!” “How did I abandon you? Didn’t I raise you? Didn’t I pay for your high school?” Mom’s expression turned dark. I actually laughed, I was so furious. “Mom, you left me with Grandma when I was in elementary school. I only came back after Grandma passed away when I was in middle school.” “When I started high school, all you gave me was a set of used bedding from Jessica. I paid for tuition and living expenses myself by working summer jobs and part-time gigs.” When I was in kindergarten, Mom forced me to complete the entire elementary school curriculum. But in my last year of kindergarten, I couldn’t grasp physics and chemistry no matter how hard I tried. Mom pointed at my nose and called me mentally challenged with an IQ of only 70. Said I couldn’t hold a candle to Derek and Jessica. She tossed me aside like garbage to Grandma’s place in the countryside. She decided I had no potential and wasn’t worth investing in. Mom still looked down at me with that condescending attitude: “Didn’t I visit you in the countryside? Didn’t I bring you food and clothes?” My nose stung and I felt even more hurt: “When I was in the countryside, you visited once a month. Each time you brought 15 loaves of bread and some hand-me-downs.” “Did you really think half a loaf of bread a day was enough to keep me full?” “I followed Grandma around collecting cans and recyclables just to barely put food on the table!” “And those old clothes you gave me—did you think they even fit? I got made fun of by my classmates all through elementary school!” Mom rolled her eyes. “You’re just holding a grudge! Don’t you know I was teaching you to be resilient and work hard!” “Besides, I fed you, didn’t I? How is that not raising you?” Hearing this made me even angrier: “You raised me? By making me do endless chores every day just to earn scraps of leftovers?” “You raised me? By sending Derek and Jessica to extracurricular classes while I collected recyclables to save up for my own textbooks?” Mom glared at me again. “Their IQs are almost 140. Can you even compare?” I broke down crying. “Just because my IQ isn’t as high as theirs, I don’t deserve to be your child?!” Mom remained unmoved. “Cut the drama! The fact is they’re better than you and more valuable.” “Mom! Enough!” I completely lost it. Mom snorted and sat down, crossing her arms. “You idiot, go wash the dishes in the kitchen. Don’t distract Derek and Jessica from studying!” I wiped my tears and looked at my brother. “You think this is fair too?” Derek glanced at Mom and mumbled, “I… I don’t know, don’t ask me… I just do what Mom says.” I laughed bitterly and turned to my sister. “What about you?” Jessica frowned and stated flatly, “I listen to Mom too.” “Besides, that property was Mom’s. She can distribute the money however she wants. I respect her decision.” I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. I slowly stood up, clutching the multimillion-dollar lottery ticket in my pocket, and looked at them: “Fine. You all respect her, so I will too. I won’t fight over that money.” I took a deep breath. “But if you’re taking all the benefits, don’t expect me to care for her in her old age.” “Let’s cut ties from now on!” The moment I finished speaking, Mom jumped up and slapped me hard across the face: “You ungrateful brat! You’re just being bitter because you don’t want to care for me, aren’t you?” “Get out of this house right now!”

I walked through the streets as heavy snow fell. Christmas Eve. All the shops were closed. I couldn’t even spot a single lit-up motel sign. I huddled under a bus stop shelter, clutching the lottery ticket in my pocket. That was the only thing that gave me a glimmer of hope. I had planned to announce on Christmas Eve that I’d won $100 million in the lottery and promise each of them $20 million. So Derek could buy a house in New York without worrying and focus on his research. So Jessica could freely pursue her finance career dreams, and Mom could live comfortably in her old age. Maybe God took pity on me and didn’t want them to take advantage of me. At the last moment, He let me see them for who they really are. Letting that false sense of family love I’d been clinging to completely fade away. It was for the best. Not too late. After searching for a long time, I finally found a small motel still open. I checked in and had just finished eating some bread when my phone rang. I looked at the screen. It was my uncle—Mom’s brother. As soon as I answered, his loud, accusatory voice came through: “You brat! Why did you make your mother angry? You have no respect!” I shot back, “Mom kicked me out.” He continued blaming me. “That was just angry talk! Why would a child argue with their parents like that?” “Do you know how hard it was for your mom to raise you? So what if she didn’t give you any money?” “That’s your mom’s money. She can give it to whoever she wants!” “Derek has his Ivy League PhD, Jessica has her top MBA. They’re the ones who deserve it. You’re just a high school dropout with nothing going for you!” My chest felt tight: “Just because I didn’t do as well in school, I don’t deserve fair treatment? I should just be a servant and smile while watching them take everything?” Richard got even angrier: “Why are you being so petty with family? You need to think of the bigger picture!” “Go home right now and apologize to your mother. Someone like you should be the family caretaker!” I was furious. “Why should I?” Richard was breathing heavily with anger: “You brat, how dare you talk back to me! Don’t you understand respect? How can you be so dense!” I hung up and blocked his number. The world went quiet.

The next day was Christmas. My phone rang again. It was my sister Jessica calling. I hesitated for a few seconds but answered. She got straight to the point. “Clara, Mom slipped and fell looking for you last night. She broke her leg. Come home and take care of her.” My mind was still foggy. “Broken leg? Where did she look for me? Why didn’t she call me?” “Hurry up. Derek and I still have dissertation work. We don’t have time.” I sat up and rubbed my temples. “Didn’t she give you both four million total? Can’t you hire a caregiver?” Jessica got defensive. “Clara, what’s that supposed to mean? She’s your mother too, right? Taking care of her is your responsibility.” “Derek and I have studies to focus on. We don’t have time for this pointless argument.” I smiled. “So you take the money and I do the work? I’m just a free caretaker, is that it?” “Have you no shame?” Jessica’s voice suddenly rose. “Clara! Mom raised you and you don’t even care about her—” I gripped my phone tighter. “The way she raised me was making me collect recyclables for textbook money, making me eat leftovers and do all the housework, giving all the property money to you two, and then expecting me to take care of her in old age?” “Do you have a conscience? Is this fair?” “Fair?” Jessica laughed bitterly. “The world isn’t fair.” “You’re a high school graduate. How much can you make in a month? I have an MBA from a top business school. My starting salary will be several times yours. My future social status is something you can’t even dream of.” What’s wrong with Mom investing money in people with more potential?” As I listened, my heart sank more and more. So in their eyes, people really were only worth what they could earn. “So because I have no value, I deserve to be sacrificed, is that it?” Jessica’s voice was full of impatience: “Good that you understand. Cut the drama and just get over here!” “I’m not coming.” I said firmly. “What did you say?!” “I said I’m not coming.” I enunciated each word. “You took the money. You take care of her yourselves. As of last night, she’s not my mother anymore.” Jessica cursed at me through the phone: “Clara! You’re such a bitch!” “I’m telling you, if you don’t come today, don’t ever think about stepping through that door again!” I laughed dryly. “I never wanted to go through that door again anyway.” I hung up. Then I blocked her too. I hadn’t slept well last night and had a bit of a headache. I turned over, planning to sleep a bit more. Just as I was dozing off, the phone rang again. This time it was my aunt—Mom’s sister calling. I was annoyed as hell and almost hung up immediately. But she’d been relatively decent to me before. I didn’t know what I was hoping for, but I answered. Her voice was a bit hoarse. “Spending Christmas alone out there… You’re not freezing, are you?” My heart softened slightly. I answered quietly, “I’m okay.” She paused, her voice gentler: “Your mom fell. She’s lying in bed and can’t move… Can you come back and take care of her?” That little bit of warmth in my heart felt like it had been pricked with a needle. I didn’t know what to say. “I know you’re hurting.” She sighed. “But honey, she’s your only mother. Can you really be so heartless? What if you regret it later?” She was here to persuade me too. My heart instantly went cold. I didn’t want to say anything else. Only the sound of breathing remained on the phone. “…Think about it carefully. Call me if you need anything.” She sighed and hung up. I held my phone in silence for a long time, then went through my contacts one by one, blocking all those relatives’ numbers. I took a deep breath and pulled back the curtains. Outside was a white expanse. From today on, I would only live for myself.

In the afternoon, some convenience stores opened. I went to buy some food. As soon as I came out, I heard a familiar voice: “Clara!” My heart skipped a beat. I saw Richard standing not far away, smoking a cigarette. I turned and walked away, my steps getting faster and faster, almost running. “Clara! Stop right there!” His voice chased after me. I turned into a narrow alley, my heart pounding like a drum. Just as I caught my breath, at the other end of the alley, the men he’d brought blocked my way. I was trapped. They were like two walls, trapping me in the middle. Richard snatched the bag from my hands. The bread I’d just bought scattered all over the ground. “Come back with us!” “I won’t!” I tried hard to shake off his hand. “You don’t have a choice!” He grabbed my arm, his grip so strong it hurt my bones. The two of them dragged me back, half pulling, half carrying. When we entered the house, I saw Mom lying on the couch eating cookies. “Here’s your girl.” He pushed me forward. “Kneel down!” Richard shouted and kicked me to the ground. I lifted my head and glared at Mom with hatred. “What are you glaring at?” Mom sat up. “Raised you all these years for nothing? My leg is hurt this badly and you run faster than a rabbit! Did a dog eat your conscience?” I smiled. “You’re talking to me about conscience? Did your conscience go with that four million to your two precious kids?” As I spoke, I looked at her perfectly fine legs. “You broke your leg but you can sit up? Why isn’t it in a cast and elevated?” “How dare you talk back!” Mom slapped me. I immediately tasted blood in my mouth. Richard looked at me with disgust. “Keeping this brat around is just trouble. Might as well…” He lowered his voice, but I heard every word clearly: “I know some people in rural areas who are desperate for wives.” “This girl may only have a high school diploma, but she’s pretty enough. We could get twenty or thirty thousand for her. That money would be enough to keep you comfortable in your old age.” A chill ran through my body. I looked at them in disbelief. Mom pressed her lips together and lowered her eyelids. From her throat came a muffled: “…That could work.” My whole body trembled. I was filled with hatred. I struggled to get up and saw the fruit knife next to the fruit bowl on the coffee table. They were still quietly discussing the details of selling me. Just as Mom reached out to grab me again, I lunged forward, grabbed the knife, and held it against my own throat. I screamed: “You want money, don’t you? You want to sell me?!” My eyes were red as I looked at each of their faces: “If you keep pushing me, I’ll die right here and now. Let’s see if the police can figure out that you drove me to it!” “Clara! Are you crazy! Put down the knife!” Mom’s voice trembled with fear. I smiled. I knew she wasn’t worried about me. She was worried that if something happened to me, it might affect Derek and Jessica’s reputation. Holding the fruit knife, I backed toward the door. My eyes never left them: “Don’t follow me.” “Anyone who follows me, I’ll fight to the death.”

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Right after my check-up, I scrolled past a help post: “The college student I’m seeing has kidney failure. The only matching donor is my wife. How can I get my wife to willingly donate her kidney to her?” Someone in the comment section replied: “Easy! Just tell your wife she’s the one with kidney failure, and your mistress is a kind stranger volunteering to donate. Your wife will definitely agree!” Just as I was thinking what poor woman was unlucky enough to have such a husband, My husband, Dr. Alex Harper, the Chief Surgeon, suddenly approached me with a fake medical report: “You have kidney failure, Claire. You need immediate surgery. But luckily, we have a kind donor here at the hospital who’s a perfect match. I’ve already scheduled the surgery for tomorrow!” I watched Dr. Alex Harper stand before me, holding the report, his face a mask of pained concern and forced relief. For a moment, I was stunned. It must be a coincidence, right? Alex and I had dated for five years, married for two—a total of seven years. He had always been incredibly thoughtful. He never once let me step foot in the kitchen or do a single chore. That morning, I’d merely coughed twice, and he’d rushed me straight to his hospital for a check-up. He was the best man in the world to me, besides my own parents! I looked at him, testing the waters: “Honey, could there be a mistake?” “I feel perfectly fine. How could I suddenly have kidney failure?” Alex gently stroked my hair, reassuring me: “Most kidney diseases don’t show obvious symptoms, sweetheart. It’s a good thing we caught it early, otherwise, it could have been really bad.” His expression was sincere, his tone earnest. But the sight of him sent a chill down my spine. I was silent for two seconds, still unwilling to give up hope: “Who is this ‘kind donor’ who’s giving me a kidney?” Alex answered without hesitation: “A college student.” My heart plummeted. It clicked. Alex. He was the one who posted it. He was cheating. And now, he wanted to trick me into donating my kidney to save his mistress. My blood ran cold, but I kept my face carefully blank as I asked Alex: “I don’t know this college student at all. Why would she agree to donate a kidney to me?” Alex smiled warmly: “That girl is incredibly kind.” “She said her own mother died of kidney disease, and she doesn’t want to see anyone else go through that same pain.” “So, as soon as she found out she was a match for you, she immediately offered to donate.” Even though Alex’s words were a lie, The undeniable tenderness in his eyes when he spoke of that girl was all too real. I knew that look. I’d seen it when he traveled thousands of miles just to see me. When I was sick, and he stayed by my side for days and nights without sleep. At our wedding, when he knelt on one knee and made his solemn vows. He had always gazed at me with that same devoted look. Seeing my silence, Alex comforted me softly: “Don’t be scared, darling.” “I’ll perform your surgery myself.” “With me there, you’re going to be perfectly fine.” Hearing Alex’s words, I couldn’t help but recall when he first chose medicine, promising me with the same earnestness: “Claire, I swear, I’ll study hard so I can protect you from illness and pain your whole life.” How laughable. The man who once vowed to study medicine just to keep me safe. Now, he was willing to personally remove my kidney for another woman.

I looked at Alex, my voice calm: “Can I meet her? She is my benefactor, after all. I’d like to thank her properly.” Dr. Alex Harper was renowned in medical circles as the devoted, perfect man. Young, accomplished, and devastatingly handsome, he never lacked attention from women. Even the hospital director’s daughter, a powerful socialite, openly pursued him. She’d even publicly stated that if Alex would just be with her, he could have the entire hospital. But Alex had always been completely unmoved. He’d even offended her, almost getting blacklisted by the medical community. Despite all this, he remained unwavering, telling me: “I could lose the whole world, but I can’t live without you.” I was intensely curious. What kind of woman could make Alex, a man who held loyalty as a sacred vow, change his heart? Alex paused for a second, then chuckled: “She left the hospital right after signing the donor consent form.” “After the surgery tomorrow, I’ll take you to thank her properly.” Clearly, Alex didn’t want me to meet her. But the more he resisted, the more curious I became. I didn’t press, nodding obediently: “Okay, I’ll trust you.” “I’m a little tired. I want to go home first.” Alex breathed a sigh of relief: “I’ll drive you.” I shook my head, forcing a weak smile: “No need. With the surgery tomorrow, you must have a lot of preparations. You go ahead and get busy. I can just take a cab home.” A flicker of emotion crossed Alex’s eyes, and he said earnestly: “Claire, marrying someone as understanding and thoughtful as you is truly the greatest blessing of my life.” If I hadn’t seen that post. If that college student hadn’t existed. I might have actually been moved by the sincerity in Alex’s eyes. But now, looking into his seemingly loving gaze, I felt nothing but profound irony. Love, it seemed, could truly be a masterful disguise. I didn’t say anything, just quietly turned and walked away. But I didn’t go far. Instead, I went to a coffee shop downstairs from the hospital, ordered a coffee, and sat silently. A few minutes later, Alex changed out of his white lab coat and hurried out of the hospital. I put down my coffee and quietly followed him. Alex seemed ecstatic. He was walking and talking on the phone, gesturing animatedly—clearly announcing good news to the person on the other end. I followed Alex to a high-end apartment complex near the hospital. Just as Alex reached the bottom of one of the buildings, a girl practically flew down the stairs and threw herself into his arms. The moment I clearly saw her face, My eyes widened in shock. How could it be her?!

I had wondered why Alex, who seemingly loved me so much he’d risk his own life for me, had suddenly started an affair. It was because of her! It dawned on me. Now I finally understood why Alex had gone to such lengths to trick me into donating my kidney to her! I couldn’t bear to watch Alex and the girl’s intimate display any longer. I practically fled back home. Once home, I sat on the couch, unable to calm down. The girl’s face kept flashing before my eyes. Making me realize that this situation was far more terrifying than I had imagined! My hands trembling, I pulled out my phone and called several people in quick succession. Half an hour later, my parents, Alex’s mother Anne, and his sister Amy, all rushed to the house. “What’s wrong, Claire? You called us all over so suddenly. Did something happen?” The four of them sat around the sofa, looking at me with worried expressions. I took a deep breath, looked at them, and directly told them about Alex’s affair and his plan to trick me into donating a kidney to his mistress. Hearing this, Anne shot to her feet, livid: “That scoundrel! How could he do this to you?” “Claire, don’t be sad. I’m going to go teach him a lesson right now!” My mom held Anne back. She looked at me cautiously: “Claire, could there be a misunderstanding?” My dad also nodded: “Alex, that man, everyone could see how much he loved you. How could he possibly be cheating?” Amy, too, echoed in disbelief: “Exactly! You’re the only woman my brother has ever loved, since we were kids.” “He treasures you more than his own life. How could he possibly remove your kidney for some other woman?” I knew they wouldn’t believe it. So I pulled out the photo I’d secretly taken of the girl when I followed Alex: “What if he cheated with her?” The moment they saw the girl’s photo, the four people who had been so certain Alex couldn’t possibly be cheating, instantly went pale. “How can this be?” “Why her?” Anne murmured, her face ashen, her eyes filled with shock. Amy’s confident expression instantly vanished, replaced by a dazed look: “So it was her… No wonder Alex would do something like this…” My parents went completely limp, their voices trembling: “It’s over. Everything’s completely over!”

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After my husband left for his business trip, I got a call: “Hello, I’m a clerk from a sex toy store. May I speak with Mrs. Miller? Your husband’s payment for the sex toy he bought yesterday afternoon failed. Could you please complete the payment?” I immediately called Alex, my husband, probing: “Weren’t you on a business trip yesterday? Why were you buying a sex toy yesterday afternoon?” He paused for a second, then chuckled lightly: “Oh, I was going to surprise you, but I guess you found out early.” After we got married, Alex had always been so proper in bed, never once buying any sex toys. He hadn’t even given a second glance to the sheer nightgown I bought last week. I hung up, then called the sex toy store again: “Send me your address. I’ll come down and pay now.” When I arrived at the sex toy store, the clerk pulled out the bill and said: “Hello, that’ll be $200.” I didn’t pay immediately. Instead, I said to the clerk: “I’d like to see the security footage first, just to confirm it was my husband who made the purchase.” The clerk looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. “Of course, please wait a moment.” He pulled up the monitor, and a familiar figure quickly appeared on the screen. It was Alex, my husband. Beside him stood a young woman, wearing a tight-fitting bodycon dress that highlighted her sensual curves. Alex and the young woman picked out handcuffs, a whip, candles, and even a nurse’s uniform. The woman gave a shy smile. Alex gently stroked her head. My heart instantly twisted into a knot. On the screen, the woman’s necklace caught my eye. My gaze locked. The pendant on that necklace was the letter “A”. I had designed the sketch myself and had it custom-made. It was one of a kind. It was my wedding anniversary gift to him. I made sure to save the footage. Then I handed the clerk my bank card: “It’s definitely my husband! Take the payment!” Back home, silence hung heavy in the air. I walked into Alex’s study, opened the company’s internal messaging app, and clicked on the list of female employees. One young face after another scrolled by. Finally, my finger stopped on the profile picture of a woman named Chloe Young. It was the same woman from the security footage. I closed the app and made a call. My best friend, Bella King, answered on the other end: “Hey, Rory, what’s up? How come you’re free to call today?” “I need you to look someone up for me, a new intern at our company, Chloe Young.” My voice was eerily calm. “Also, pull up all of Alex’s private account statements, hotel records, and immigration information from the last six months. Don’t miss a single detail.” Bella was quiet for two seconds. “…Did something happen with Alex?” “Worse than that.” After I hung up, Alex’s call came through. “Rory, are you busy?” His usual gentle voice came through. “No, just got off work.” “How was your day? Tired?” “It was fine.” “I’ll be back tomorrow. I brought you a gift, I promise you’ll love it.” He was still using that gentle tone. Listening to him, my stomach churned. The next day, as soon as I arrived at the office, Bella’s encrypted email landed in my inbox. “Everything you asked for. See for yourself.” I opened the attachment. It was Chloe’s social media account. The latest post featured *my* necklace. The caption read: “Boyfriend says I’m his muse. I absolutely adore this necklace.” I scrolled down further. One photo showed her in the background of our living room, holding my cat, grinning innocently. “Cuddling with my boyfriend’s cat at his place. Feeling totally cured.” Another showed her in my car, holding my favorite car diffuser. “Boyfriend’s car smells so good. He says it’s his sanctuary.” Every photo, every word, was a blatant claim of ownership. I closed the photos, my face expressionless, and opened another folder. It was Chloe’s background, dug up by Bella. A regular university, a completely unremarkable resume. Getting an internship at a top-tier design firm like ours was nothing short of a miracle. Her only notable achievement was a first-place prize in a campus competition for a city landscape design report. That report sparked a memory. I scrolled further, and when I saw the last photo, my body stiffened. In the picture, Chloe was holding a printed design sketch, a look of triumphant satisfaction on her face. The title on the blueprint was unmistakably – “South Side Project.” This was the core design proposal I had poured my heart and soul into for three months, for the company’s most important annual bid. It was the most crucial project of my entire career.

The next day, I arrived at the company’s annual key project proposal meeting. I found an inconspicuous corner and sat down, watching Alex lead Chloe to the most central seats in the front row. He was impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, his hair neatly combed. He leaned over, talking to a client representative beside him, completely at ease. Chloe sat next to him, clad in a white professional suit, her face adorned with exquisite makeup. Gone was her previous innocent look, replaced by the sharp competence of a rising professional. The way she looked at Alex was filled with adoration and worship. The two chatted and laughed, looking every bit like a dazzling duo working in perfect sync. Soon, the presentation began. Chloe, as the lead presenter for the “South Side Project,” walked onto the stage. She took a deep breath and began to articulate the design concept. “The core of our South Side Project lies in its unique ‘ecological sky bridge’ design. It will act like a vibrant, green artery…” These were the exact words I had told Alex on countless late nights, fueled by coffee. I had once believed those conversations were our deepest connection, a true meeting of minds. Now, I realized he was just the most patient thief. Chloe’s presentation was a success. When the final renderings were displayed on the PPT, a collective gasp of admiration rippled through the room. The presentation ended, followed by thunderous applause. The host stepped onto the stage: “Thank you, Ms. Young, for your brilliant presentation! Now, let’s move on to the Q&A session.” In the audience, a distinguished real estate mogul, Mr. Davis from City Development Group, raised his hand. He was known in the industry for his incredibly sharp eye. “Ms. Young, hello,” Mr. Davis began. “Given the importance of this project, isn’t it a bit risky to have a newcomer lead it? I recall Ms. Vance’s previous ‘Riverside Gate’ project was an industry benchmark.” Chloe’s face visibly faltered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself, glancing pleadingly at Alex in the audience. Alex gave her a reassuring smile, then picked up the microphone in front of him. “Mr. Davis, thank you for your question.” He stood up, his gaze sweeping across the room, finally resting on Chloe, full of pride. “Aurora Vance, my wife, is indeed very seasoned in design. But architecture needs new life. Chloe’s proposal, its biggest highlight, is its creativity—something experience alone can’t replicate.” The entire room fell silent. Then, an even more enthusiastic round of applause erupted. My world went silent, save for the dull thudding of my heart in my chest. I never imagined my husband would publicly discredit me. Mr. Davis raised an eyebrow but said no more, taking his seat. The host smiled, taking over: “It seems Mr. Miller has great confidence in Ms. Young! So, are there any other guests who would like to ask a question?” The room remained quiet. After Alex’s full endorsement of Chloe, it seemed no one else had anything to ask. Chloe bowed on stage, her face radiating undisguised triumph and joy. I put away my phone and picked up the microphone on the table. Instantly, all eyes turned to me. The host paused, bewildered: “Ma’am, may I ask who you are?” The smile on Alex’s face froze. Chloe’s gaze, directed at me, also held a hint of wariness.

I didn’t answer the host, walking directly to the podium. My heels clicked crisply and rhythmically on the polished floor. Each step echoed, striking a chord in Alex and Chloe’s hearts. The host on stage looked a little flustered, instinctively trying to stop me. I merely gave him a look, and he pulled his hand back. I took the microphone from him. “Hello, everyone.” My voice, amplified through the speakers, filled the entire room, clear and steady. “First, I’d like to thank Mr. Davis for his excellent question earlier.” I paused, my gaze sweeping past everyone, landing precisely on my husband, Alex. “Secondly, I’d like to add a point to Mr. Miller’s recent statement.” I turned to face Chloe, whose face had already started to pale, and smiled. “Ms. Young, I’m delighted that you have such a deep understanding of the South Side Project. As the original creator of this project, I am truly gratified.” *Boom!* The entire room erupted into a stunned murmur. Countless eyes darted between me, Alex, and Chloe. Alex’s face instantly turned ashen with fury. “Aurora! What are you talking about!” he hissed in a low, furious whisper. Chloe panicked too, hastily explaining: “No, everyone, don’t listen to her nonsense, this proposal is mine…” “Is it yours?” I cut her off. I gestured for my assistant to connect my USB drive to the projector. On the large screen behind me, Chloe’s exquisite renderings vanished. They were replaced by the original files from my computer. Folder after folder, neatly arranged by date. “This is the first conceptual model for the South Side Project, created in October of last year.” I clicked open the earliest folder, revealing rough sketches brimming with raw, original ideas. “This is the first version, and this is the second version.” Each file I opened, Chloe’s face grew a shade paler. Finally, I clicked open the blueprint page for the “ecological sky bridge” core structure design. “As for the ecological sky bridge that Ms. Young so proudly showcased, I have the complete data calculation process. Since you claim this was your inspiration, perhaps you can explain it to everyone?” All eyes in the room shot towards Chloe. She stood there, her lips trembling, her meticulously made-up face flushed crimson, unable to utter a single word. She wouldn’t understand any of it. Alex finally couldn’t sit still. He quickly strode onto the stage. “Enough, Aurora!” he squeezed out, his voice laced with a warning, “Is this a company internal matter you have to cause a scene about here?” He wanted to dismiss it as a marital dispute and an internal company problem. “Internal matter?” I picked up the microphone. “Mr. Miller, have you forgotten how you publicly assessed me just now?” He choked. Immediately, he tried to compose himself and turned to the client representatives in the audience, attempting to smooth things over. “Everyone, my apologies, this is just a private matter between my wife and me.” “Private matter?” I held up the microphone. “Director Miller claimed that he spent the past few days in a neighboring city conducting final on-site inspections for the South Side Project.” I paused, watching his eyes widen in terror. “But I just received news that Director Miller and his intern have been staying in the Presidential Suite at the Ritz-Carlton here in the city for the past few days. I wonder what ‘project’ the two of you were ‘inspecting’ in the hotel?” At the same time, I played the security video from the sex toy store. The sex toys in their hands made the entire room erupt into chaos.

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Mom always said my birthday was her day of suffering, so she never allowed me to celebrate it. But Chloe… she always had a grand birthday party every year. I cried, begging Mom to let me celebrate just once. Mom, however, pulled out the annual statement and threw it in front of me: “This year, I’ve spent a whopping five thousand eight hundred fifty dollars and six cents on you.” “You useless burden, after all the money I’ve poured into you, you still expect a birthday celebration?” I didn’t understand. Our family wasn’t poor, yet Mom remembered every penny, even the cost of an ice cream. “If it weren’t for having you, how would my body be ruined and covered in stretch marks? How else would your father have gone out and found a mistress?” “All my suffering, it’s because of you. If you truly want to repay me, you should just die.” “I almost died in the operating room giving birth to you, and not only are you ungrateful, but you want to celebrate my suffering? Do you even have conscience?” I pulled the covers tightly over myself, afraid to even cry out loud. To make Mom happy, I jumped from the rooftop. But even after I truly died, Mom and Dad still weren’t happy.

Mom angrily threw the annual statement in front of me. My eyes were swollen from crying, and I knelt on the floor, sobbing continuously. “Mom, I’ll earn money when I grow up and pay you back…” Mom didn’t even hesitate, slapping me across the face. A burning pain flared on my cheek, followed by Mom’s furious roar. “Pay back? Can you ever pay back all the years of youth and energy I spent raising you?” “If you really want to pay me back, you should just die sooner and set me free.” Mom smashed everything she could get her hands on, then left the house with Chloe, leaving me alone, kneeling amidst a pile of shattered debris. I could only pin my hopes on Dad. Dad came home drunk, flopping onto the couch to scroll on his phone. I stopped cleaning the mess and got up to get him some water. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Mom’s SnapChat Story on his phone. In the photo, Mom was embracing Chloe, smiling happily, as if nothing had happened moments ago. The caption read: “No matter what happens, never bring your bad mood to your child! That’s our promise!” She couldn’t bring her bad mood to Chloe, but she could unleash all her fury on me. My hand, holding the glass, trembled, and the water spilled directly onto Dad. Dad quickly lifted his phone away, looking up at me angrily, his voice sharp as he yelled. “Lily, are your hands useless? You can’t even do a simple chore right. What good are you?” My nose stung, and tears welled up again. “Dad… I didn’t mean to…” Dad shot me an impatient glance, pointing at the door and shouting, “Oh shut up with the crying, you’re annoying as hell, just get out!” I sobbed, trying to explain to Dad, but he didn’t give me a chance, getting up and heading upstairs. I mustered all my courage and yelled after him, “Dad, today… it’s my birthday.” Dad’s footsteps on the stairs stopped. He turned to look at me, and I thought he finally remembered, that he would celebrate my birthday just once. I watched him, filled with hope and anxiety, but what Dad said was, “Birthday? What birthday?” “I never even heard of birthdays when I was a kid. You just haven’t known hardship.” Dad went upstairs without another look. I sobbed my way out of the house and knelt in the snow. Mom and Dad, you always said I was a jinx, that I was your curse, that you fought every day because of me… So, Mom and Dad, if I leave, will you stop fighting?

That night, I came down with a high fever. I tried to ignore the discomfort, crawled out of my room, and knocked on Mom’s door. Mom impatiently yanked the door open, her voice full of annoyance: “What now? Keeping people awake in the middle of the night? Are you happy only when I drop dead from exhaustion?” I quickly shook my head, explaining, “No, Mom, I just feel really unwell, I wanted to…” Before I could finish, she cut me off: “Unwell? What’s there to feel unwell about? Chloe fell and hurt her leg today, and she didn’t say she was unwell. Why are you acting unwell?” Chloe’s crying came from inside the room. Mom quickly rushed in, holding Chloe and comforting her. “Chloe, what’s wrong? Does it still hurt?” Chloe buried her head in Mom’s arms, sobbing, “Mom, it hurts! It’s all Lily’s fault for fighting with you today. I was so upset, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and that’s why I fell…” Mom wiped her tears, her angry gaze turning to me: “It’s all your fault. You’re just a jinx. Why don’t you just die?” Tears blurred my vision. I heard Mom close the door, and I lay there on the floor all night. Before, when Mom used to hit me for Chloe, I thought it was just because Chloe looked like Mom, so Mom doted on her especially. But my appearance wasn’t something I could control, so I tried to achieve perfection in other things. From the time I started school, my grades were always at the top of the class, but when I showed my report card to Mom, Mom was busy comforting Chloe, who had ranked last in her class. My report card, showing I was first in the whole school, was casually tossed into the trash. I made many more efforts, winning countless awards, but in Mom’s eyes, there was still only Chloe. The teacher assigned an essay about our mothers. I wrote and tore, tore and wrote on the paper. I could never remember a single time Mom had been gentle or caring towards me… In the end, I turned in a blank piece of paper. The teacher made me stand at the front of the class for an entire period and lectured me in front of everyone, saying I was heartless. I stood there, listening to all my classmates’ essays, and thought for the whole class if Mom truly loved me. As I got older, I gradually began to understand that Mom didn’t love me, not because I wasn’t good enough. It was because she simply didn’t like me, didn’t like my existence. I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t. I continued to live cautiously like that in the house for half a year. Half a month before Chloe’s birthday, Mom started preparing everything for Chloe’s party and her birthday gifts. My eyes red, I walked past her. Mom sighed helplessly, then called me back. “Who are you putting on that long face for?” “Chloe’s birthday is in a few days. You better be happy. Don’t let me see that sour expression on your face again.” I wanted to ask Mom why she held such grand birthday parties for Chloe every year but wouldn’t allow me even a small celebration. But the words caught in my throat. I nodded obediently and returned to my room. Behind me, Mom happily hummed a tune, continuing to prepare. Chloe merely mentioned wanting Dad to celebrate her birthday with her, and Mom, who usually fought with Dad the moment she saw him, actually cooked a meal herself and humbly invited Dad to the birthday party. Even more surprisingly, Dad agreed. I crouched in the kitchen, crying silently, tears dripping into my rice bowl. I lost all appetite. So I just poured the remaining rice and pickles into the trash. Mom, furious, smashed my bowl, pointing at my nose and yelling, “Lily, if you don’t want to eat, get out! What do you mean by secretly throwing it away? Is my cooking not good enough for your royal taste?” I looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, trying to explain, “No, I just wasn’t hungry…” Before I could finish, a stinging slap landed squarely on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw many pieces of meat, barely touched, discarded on Chloe’s plate…

At the birthday party, Chloe invited many classmates and friends. I carefully presented a thoughtfully chosen gift to Chloe. Chloe didn’t even look, knocking the gift box to the floor. “What is this junk? I’m your older sister, and this is how you treat my birthday?” “Have you forgotten how many pretty dresses I gave you for your birthday?” Chloe did give me many dresses, but among them, not a single one was new. They were all dresses Chloe had worn, or her friends and classmates had worn… I sobbed, picking up the gift and wiping off the dust with my sleeve. “Chloe, you look best with hair clips.” “I saved money for months to buy this. Please take it…” My words were again cut off by Chloe. She forcefully snatched the box and threw it to the ground, her eyes full of disdain. Watching the hair clip fall to the floor, my heart suddenly twisted in pain, making it hard to breathe. I crouched down, trembling, reaching out to pick it up. But then I saw Chloe stomp on the hair clip several times until it broke into two pieces. Chloe stood with her arms crossed, looking down at me with contempt. “Mom says you’re a jinx. If I wear a hair clip from you, who knows what bad things might happen!” “A jinx like you should take all your bad luck and get out of our house.” “Mom and Dad have lived such good lives, I don’t know how we ended up with a jinx like you. You even almost killed Mom in the operating room. Ugh, a jinx!” I collapsed to the floor, Chloe’s voice becoming increasingly muffled in my ears. When I woke up, Mom and Chloe were sitting by the bed, waiting. I was incredibly excited. This was the first time Mom had stepped into my room since I could remember. But before I could even speak, Mom slapped me hard. I looked at her, confused, tears flowing against my will. “Mom…” I hadn’t done anything wrong, why… “Don’t call me Mom. I don’t have a jinx daughter like you. Look what you’ve done! If you’re going to die, do it outside! What’s the deal with dying at Chloe’s birthday party?” “Your dad finally agreed to celebrate Chloe’s birthday, and now it’s all ruined because of you.” My smile froze. So Mom came into the room not to care for me, but to punish me for Chloe. I tried to get up from the bed but accidentally fell off. I just stayed there, kneeling in front of Mom. I carefully reached out and tugged at Mom’s clothes: “Mom, I… I didn’t mean to.” Mom kicked me hard. My head hit the corner of the bed, and a lot of blood flowed. But Mom showed no remorse, turning and rushing out of the room. When Mom came back in, I saw a torn piece where I had tugged at her clothes. Mom, I’m not dirty. I shower every day. Do you despise me that much? Chloe is your child, and I’m also flesh and blood from you… Why don’t you feel any pity for me at all? Mom, you always said I should die. If I die, will you finally be happy? And Dad, will he stop fighting with you? If that’s the case, then I’m willing to die.

I wanted to say goodbye to Mom in person, so I covered my still-bleeding head and went to the banquet hall. When Mom saw me, her eyes were filled with nothing but anger. “What are you doing here? What happened to your head?” Hearing Mom care about me, I was overjoyed. “I’m fine…” My words hadn’t even fully left my mouth when Mom cut me off. “How unlucky. It’s Chloe’s birthday party today. What are you trying to do, making yourself look like this on purpose?” “Do you want our whole family to catch your bad luck? A perfectly good birthday party, and you’ve ruined the atmosphere. I shouldn’t have brought you.” Mom glared at me, then turned and went into the banquet hall. The doors closed. As the doors shut, I saw through the gap Mom gently putting a birthday hat on Chloe’s head. I had ruined the birthday party Mom had painstakingly prepared for Chloe, and made Mom angry. I wanted to make Mom happy again. I asked many people, and they said that death meant one’s soul flew to heaven. So I climbed onto the rooftop. It was so close to the sky here. If I jumped from here, would I fly to heaven? Just as I was about to jump, someone called out to me. I turned to look, and it was a very beautiful woman. Her voice trembled uncontrollably: “Child, you can’t play there. Come here, Auntie will take you to your mom and dad.” I politely thanked her, then asked, “Auntie, if I jump from here, will I fly to heaven?” “I asked many people, and they all said dying means flying to heaven.” “Mom always says I’m a jinx and tells me to die. I don’t want Mom to be unhappy all the time…” The woman was scared but didn’t dare to make any sudden moves. She extended her hand towards me: “Child, come here, Auntie will take you home.” I shook my head: “No, Auntie, Mom will be unhappy if she sees me again. I don’t want Mom to be unhappy.” I didn’t say anything more, gathering strength and leaping towards the sky. Mom, don’t be angry. I listened to you. I’m obediently going to die. But it wasn’t quite what I imagined. My body plummeted rapidly. Through the window, I saw Mom affectionately kiss Chloe’s forehead. Mom’s gaze briefly flickered towards the window. I wanted to wave to Mom, but the speed of my descent was too fast. Before I could even reach out, Mom disappeared from my sight. A flicker of shock crossed Mom’s eyes. Someone beside her shouted, “Someone jumped!” Mom seemed disbelieving: “Chloe, where’s your sister?” Mom scanned the banquet hall, but didn’t see me anywhere. She panicked, quickly running to the window to look. As my eyelids closed, I saw Mom. Her eyes seemed to be filled with tears, and her lips were moving. Mom, did I do something wrong again? If not, then why are there tears in your eyes?

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After Dad went bankrupt, Mom was demanding a divorce. I didn’t fight or argue, just watched coldly as my younger brother Asher pushed me aside and ran to Dad: “Don’t be sad, Dad. I’m here for you!” In my past life, after Mom and Dad split up, Asher went with our wealthy mother while I stayed with our bankrupt father. But Mom remarried a real loser who not only squandered all her money but kicked her out too. Asher suffered right along with her. Meanwhile, Dad built a successful business and got rich again. Consumed by jealousy over my good fortune, Asher caused my death in a car crash. When I opened my eyes again, we’d both gone back to the day the divorce was finalized. This time, Asher gave me a provocative smile and quickly announced, “I love Dad, and I want to go with him.” He had no idea I was smiling even wider inside. I was so done with running and hiding all the time! Asher looped his arm through Dad’s, pouting playfully. “Dad, please let me stay with you! I love you more than anyone, and I’m not scared of hard times.” Coming from Asher—who’d been spoiled rotten and totally self-centered his whole life—those words actually moved Dad. He didn’t even notice Mom’s furious expression beside them. “No way! Asher will suffer if he stays with you. The court will side with me for custody,” Mom stepped forward to object. So Asher would suffer with Dad, but I was just some afterthought? Disposable? In the courtroom, they fought tooth and nail over Asher’s custody, with lawyers throwing around all kinds of documents. I might as well have been invisible—a ghost in the room, completely ignored. In the end, maybe it was Asher’s own firm declaration to the judge that made the difference. Mom reluctantly settled on me, like an afterthought. I got into my stepfather Mr. Waylon’s sleek luxury car with Mom. Asher skipped along, holding Dad’s hand. Before we left, he shot me a smug, challenging look. I didn’t care one bit. After all, Mom was loaded now, and Dad’s situation was a total disaster. In my past life, he dragged me from one hideout to another every day just to avoid creditors. I couldn’t focus on school at all. The business failure and Mom leaving hit him really hard. He completely checked out, drowning himself in cheap booze in our run-down apartment, ignoring everything. Even though I was a straight-A student, I couldn’t afford tuition and had to take care of him, forcing me to drop out early and get a job. Asher, though? He had it way easier than me. He was good-looking and knew how to charm our parents. They both spoiled him rotten. Plus, being the younger one, they always used that old line: I was the big sister, so I had to be responsible and always put my little brother first. Even after the divorce, both parents only wanted him. But this time, he ultimately chose Dad, giving Dad a moment of petty triumph in front of Mom. Sitting in the car, Mom immediately started complaining. “You’re always so quiet and withdrawn. Now that we’re moving in with Mr. Waylon, you need to learn to be more flexible, more clever.” Whatever. The car pulled into an upscale neighborhood with mansions. I knew Mr. Waylon was rich in my past life, but I hadn’t realized he was this loaded. Mr. Waylon enrolled me in the city’s most prestigious private school. I had a private driver taking me to and from school every day. To make up for the education I’d lost in my past life, I hit the books hard. I excelled, maintaining a perfect GPA. Mom, who’d always ignored me before, suddenly couldn’t wait to attend parent-teacher conferences. When she went, other parents would envy her, and teachers would praise her for having such an outstanding kid. And since Mr. Waylon had no kids of his own, I was living pretty comfortably here. I also started thinking about studying abroad. “You’re too young to go overseas. Don’t think good grades mean you can actually take care of yourself.” Before Mr. Waylon could even say anything, my own mother was already shooting down the idea. Later, I learned that real hatred doesn’t need a reason. Not even between a mother and her child.

Mr. Waylon wasn’t the moody, controlling, violent monster Mom and Asher had made him out to be in my past life. In fact, he was incredibly sharp—though definitely proud and strong-willed. It didn’t take long after we moved in for his issues with Mom to surface. Mom was a total trophy wife—all looks, no substance. Honestly, her and Dad had been perfect for each other. Dad had been a trust fund kid with more money than sense. He’d landed Mom purely with his charm and fat wallet. When Grandpa and Grandma were alive, they kept everything together. After they passed, Dad got roped into terrible investments by his so-called “friends.” He gambled away his entire inheritance—everything Grandpa and Grandma left him. Mom immediately found a new sugar daddy and divorced him. My study abroad plans were on hold thanks to Mom’s meddling. But with my grades, I was confident I could get into a top local university. “Asher’s here!” “Ms. Evans, is Mom home?” “Your mom went shopping, but your sister’s upstairs reading.” I heard Asher’s footsteps heading toward my room. He opened my door without knocking. “Leo, cut the act. Nobody’s home—who are you trying to impress with all this studying?” He walked right in and snatched my books. Asher was supposed to be living with Dad, yet almost every month he’d show up demanding money from Mom, plus jewelry and clothes. Every time he left, his car would be loaded up. But the next month, he’d still be wearing ratty clothes. Dad, now a full-blown gambling addict, had long since pawned all his nice stuff for cash to blow. In this life, Dad wasn’t just a drunk—he was a gambler too. Mom actually felt sorry for Asher living such a hard life with Dad. She even talked to Mr. Waylon about letting Asher move in with us. Mr. Waylon actually agreed, but surprisingly, Dad refused to let Asher go. After all, he was using Asher to milk Mom for stuff to fund his lifestyle now. “You’ve studied yourself stupid. What’s the point of all these books? You’re not as good-looking as me, and even Mom and Dad don’t really like you.” “And this good life you’re living? I handed it to you on a silver platter. Enjoy it while it lasts, ’cause it won’t.” He started rummaging through my stuff like he owned the place. He wasn’t wrong—this room had been his in my past life. He searched everywhere. “You don’t even know how to enjoy the good life. What kind of crap is this you’ve got?” “All you do is bury your head in these books every day.” I ignored him, letting him throw his little tantrum. “Is that my sweet Asher I hear?” I watched coldly as they put on their ‘loving mother and son’ act. Mom saw my room was completely trashed. “What good stuff could you find in her room? Come on, let’s go to my room—I just bought tons of clothes and jewelry. Take whatever you want.” With that, she dragged Asher out. She didn’t even look at me, let alone say something like “Are you okay?” Ms. Evans, the housekeeper, brought up a glass of fresh orange juice. She came into my room and started tidying up like it was nothing. “I’ve never seen such a biased mother.” Whatever. Her good times were about to run out anyway.

A few days later, I heard a huge argument downstairs. “You absolute disgrace! Living off my money, wearing my clothes, and you still have the nerve to cheat on me!” Mr. Waylon backhanded Mom hard across the face. Asher immediately jumped in to break it up. Mr. Waylon was so mad he shoved Asher to the floor. “And don’t get me started on your precious son! Didn’t we agree—one kid each?” “Why does he keep showing up here, and every time he does, half my stuff goes missing!” Mom shot back, “My son is taking my things. It’s none of your business!” “Yours? Look at yourself! Everything you’re wearing, every piece of jewelry—I bought it all! Now I have to support your whole freeloading family?!” “Mr. Waylon, how dare you lecture me! If you weren’t sterile, would I even be in this mess?!” Mom’s words pushed Mr. Waylon over the edge. He lost it completely, grabbing Mom’s stuff and throwing it everywhere. She tried to stop him but ended up getting pushed down too. No one in the house dared to interfere. Asher hid in the corner, too scared to move. Mr. Waylon had married Mom because she was beautiful and already had two kids. After we moved in, he treated me more like a protégé—someone he could mentor and trust. But in my past life, Mom had taken advantage of that trust, recklessly wasting Mr. Waylon’s money. Asher, good-looking as he was, had zero common sense. That alone wouldn’t have been so bad. But these two—greedy and stupid… Not only was Mom cheating, but Asher was going around telling everyone Mr. Waylon’s entire fortune would one day be his. Word got back to Mr. Waylon fast. He wasn’t even dead yet, and they were already eyeing his money. Anyone would be ticked off. Mr. Waylon had no choice but to bring in his niece Rachel to train as his business assistant, and kick Mom and Asher out. In this life, Mom still got thrown out. But Mr. Waylon didn’t kick me out. “Leo, you’re better off with me than with your short-sighted, ignorant birth mother.” All my hard work had paid off. Mr. Waylon knew I was smart, driven, and had good judgment. I always put his interests first, consulting him before making any big decisions. I even casually mentioned that I saw him more like a father figure. Of course, my shopaholic mother had no clue about any of this, and she didn’t care anyway. Mom refused to leave, saying she’d rather die than step out of the house. She had no idea who she was dealing with. A self-made man like Mr. Waylon was nothing like my spineless trust-fund father. He wouldn’t fall for her little games. “Ms. Evans, go to the bedroom and pack some of her clothes.” Then he called security. And just like that, Mom and Asher got escorted out. As Mr. Waylon walked past my room, he patted my shoulder. “Leo, focus on your studies. This grown-up drama isn’t your problem.” I nodded. Idiots. No matter how many chances they got, they’d always be this stupid. My life wasn’t affected at all—in fact, Mr. Waylon started trusting me even more. Mom tried to get me to beg Mr. Waylon to take her back. Of course I said no. She called every day, screaming the most horrible things at me. Ms. Evans heard her once and wondered if I was even her real kid. In Mom’s eyes, only Asher existed. Without Mom’s money, Asher’s life got rough. He flunked all his classes and hated school. Dad just let him drop out. But Dad was drowning in debt, and their lives were a total mess. I was focused on studying for college entrance exams. Mr. Waylon had been super busy lately, barely ever home. Not long after, some thugs jumped me on my way to school. Our car was in the shop that day, so I was walking home alone. Right after school, a woman blocked my path. “You Leo?” Before I could answer, someone covered my mouth from behind and dragged me into an old warehouse. As soon as they took the blindfold off, someone kicked me to the floor. “Well, well, big brother. Enjoying life in that fancy house?” Asher walked over, looking down at me like I was dirt.

Asher backhanded me hard. “You bastard. I seriously underestimated you. That old man treats you like a king, and you’re still living there even after Mom got kicked out.” “I want to know exactly what you did to pull this off.” He pulled out a pocket knife, waving it inches from my face. When they saw he had a real knife, the other girls got nervous and stepped in. Maya was Asher’s delinquent girlfriend. Those other girls might have been troublemakers, but they weren’t about to get mixed up with weapons. Maya stepped in to break it up. “Asher, knock it off with the knife. He’s still your brother.” “This piece of trash? He’s not my brother.” He spat right in my face. But he did put the knife away, at least. They beat me until I couldn’t stand, then finally let me go. I limped to a taxi and headed back to the mansion. Only Ms. Evans was home, and she looked horrified when she saw me. “You left this morning perfectly fine. What happened to you?” I was covered in bruises. She cleaned me up gently. That evening, Mr. Waylon showed up after being gone for a while—with Mom, all dressed up like nothing had happened. They’d gotten back together. When Mr. Waylon saw me, he asked what happened. Mom, standing next to him, snapped: “Always getting into trouble. Never learning. Not like your brother, who knows how to behave.” He had his goons beat me up this afternoon, and now he’s walking around our house like he owns the place. “Mom, why don’t you ask who did this to me?” I shot back, angry. “Who else? You must have been messing with the wrong people…” “Leo, what happened?” Mom kept badmouthing me, but Mr. Waylon cut her off. I pointed at Asher. “He had a bunch of guys jump me right outside school.” “Are you crazy? What kind of lies are you telling?” Asher acted all innocent, trying to turn it around on me. I told Mr. Waylon and the police there might be security cameras near the school entrance and the warehouse. The police checked the footage and found Asher’s group on camera. They didn’t catch the actual beating, but it was enough to show what happened. Mr. Waylon looked shocked. He couldn’t believe someone would hire people to kidnap and beat their own brother. “This is sick. This isn’t just some prank.” “How does that prove Asher did it? Leo, you’re unbelievable! I know I haven’t been around much lately, but you don’t have to frame your brother like this!” Mom tried to turn it around, blaming me instead. “Asher, do you know these people?” Asher denied it, saying he was just passing by and had nothing to do with it. “Mom, you have to believe me.” Asher, looking even more upset, suddenly slapped me. I didn’t see it coming. After hitting me, he collapsed into fake sobs. The whole time, he played the victim while I was the one who’d been beaten. “Look what you did! You made your brother pass out! You’re so cruel—I don’t know why I ever had a monster like you!” She helped Asher to his room and even called the family doctor. I was hurt and bleeding, and she didn’t even say a word to me.

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The call came just before the wedding, from our wedding planner Amy. Her voice buzzed with excitement. “Miss Seraphina, we’ve finished the edit of Mr. Blake Harrison’s proposal video. It’s stunning. May we share it on our company account for promotion?” I froze for a second, then smiled. Blake and I had been together seven years. Our proposal was simple and spontaneous, just a casual suggestion after dinner. I thought this video was his secret, romantic surprise for me. “Of course,” I agreed cheerfully. After hanging up, I clicked on the planner’s social media. The latest video’s thumbnail showed Blake’s handsome profile. The caption read: “A Timeless Love Story. Seven Years Strong, He Gave Her the Surprise Proposal of a Lifetime.” I pressed play. The video was beautifully shot. Blake’s eyes held deep affection, enough to drown in. Then the camera shifted to show the woman in front of him. She stood in a white dress, hands clasped over her mouth in delight. My breath caught. The woman wasn’t me.

Seraphina POV By the time I fully registered her face, all the blood in my veins ran cold. It was Willow. Blake’s “bestie,” the one he swore was “like a sister.” In the video, he was kneeling, sliding the diamond ring-my ring-onto her finger. The comments section drowned in heart emojis and cries of “True love goals!” I closed the app. Two weeks ago, Blake had said he needed to do a favor for Willow, who was “so scared of commitment.” So this was the favor. A proposal more elaborate than the one he’d ever given me. Right then, a notification lit up my screen. A message from Blake. “What should we do for dinner tonight?” I left it on read. I screenshotted their embrace and posted it on Ins. My caption was brutal: “Dreams come true. Congrats to my fiancé Blake Harrison and his ‘bestie’ on their happy ending. Enjoy!” Blake called instantly, his voice seething. “Seraphina! What is this? Delete it now!” “Who’s the crazy one here, you or me?” I fired back. “I told you! It was a favor for Willow! She wanted to experience it! As her best friend, how could I refuse?” When I stayed silent, Blake seemed to hear his own anger. He took a breath, softening his tone slightly. “You know Willow’s ‘anti-marriage.’ She’s family to all of us. Nothing is going on. Don’t be dramatic.” His words struck me as utterly absurd. “Dramatic? So, unless you help her ‘experience’ her wedding night too, I’m ‘dramatic’?!” Blake roared, his anger flaring. “Seraphina! Don’t be so disgusting! Do you think everyone’s as high-maintenance as you? Willow has always been upfront; she’s not as twisted as you are!” “Fine, I’m twisted. I’ve desecrated your sacred friendship.” At that moment, I just felt exhausted. “I’m not marrying you.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore. I just hung up.

Seraphina POV Half an hour later, the door was swung open. Blake stormed in, rage burning in his eyes. “Seraphina!” He pointed at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Explain yourself! What do you mean, ‘not marrying you’?!” I sat on the sofa, not even glancing his way. Blake grew even angrier. “Delete that Ins post immediately and go apologize to Willow! Otherwise, this wedding…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I stood up and slammed our wedding invitations onto the coffee table in front of him. Blake froze. “What are you doing with those?” I didn’t answer. Right in front of him, I pulled out one card and tore it forcefully. “Are you insane?! Stop that!” Blake reacted, trying to snatch them away. It was too late. I didn’t stop. I shredded all the remaining invitations, then tossed the pieces into the air. I watched Blake’s stunned expression and calmly told him, “I said, I’m not marrying you. So these things are useless now.” Blake was completely stunned by my actions. His shock quickly turned into furious indignation. “Fine! Seraphina, this is your choice. Don’t you dare regret it!” He threw the harsh words at me, then slammed the door shut as he left. I looked at the mess on the floor and felt, instead, a sense of lightness. When did I start losing myself, becoming so utterly pathetic in this relationship? My own proposal was Blake’s casual “Let’s get married” after dinner. I even picked out my own ring. For seven years, I’d numbed myself with the excuse that “he’s just not romantic.” But that meticulously planned proposal for Willow on TikTok? It ripped my lies to shreds. He wasn’t unromantic; he just couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort for me. Memories flooded back. Willow always rode shotgun in Blake’s car. His excuse? “She gets motion sickness in the back.” We’d make plans for a movie, but one call from Willow saying her game needed another player, and he’d ditch me in an instant. The money we’d worked so hard to save? He even suggested we lend it to Willow first for her “startup.” My every complaint was met with Blake’s dismissive “Why are you always so petty?” Seven years. I changed so much for Blake, learned to tolerate so much. I didn’t lose to love. I lost to him, and to his best friend who clearly didn’t understand personal space. Now, I refused to tolerate it anymore. Picking up my phone, I started making calls, one by one, canceling everything related to the wedding. “Amy, I’m so sorry, the wedding is off. Please keep the deposit.” “Hello, I need to cancel the wedding banquet for next month.” With every call, a layer of that seven-year weight fell away. Seven years wasted on a dog, but at least it wasn’t a lifetime. The relief was real. I’d gotten out in time.

Seraphina POV After Blake stormed out, my Instagram notifications blew up. Willow had just posted. The photos were a series of goofy selfies of her and Blake, but their poses screamed intimacy. The caption was a masterpiece of fake nonchalance: “Oops, got a little carried away living out a ‘what-if’ scenario! So sorry if it confused anyone. We’re just two chronically single besties who got a bit too into the bit. Back to our regularly scheduled programming!” Immediately, my phone began to ring off the hook. The messages were all from our mutual friends, their wording almost identical. “Seraphina, it was just a joke, don’t take it seriously.” “Seven years of a relationship isn’t easy, delete your Ins post and give Blake a way out.” “You know Willow’s personality, she’s like one of the guys, don’t overthink it.” I looked at these messages and let out a cold laugh. Everyone was on their moral high horse, telling me to “be the bigger person.” I saw it clearly: they were protecting that little circle centered around Blake. These people were Blake’s and Willow’s friends, never mine. I didn’t reply to a single message. I opened each chat, found their names, and blocked them, one by one, with resolute finality. After purging them, my phone rang again. It was Mrs. Harrison, Blake’s mother. I answered. “Hello.” On the other end, Mrs. Harrison’s voice was laced with that familiar maternal pressure. “Seraphina, Blake told me you two had a fight. Why are you breaking up over a silly little joke?” “It wasn’t a joke.” “Willow’s like a daughter to us, I watched her grow up. She and Blake have always been a bit wild together, you should be more understanding.” Mrs. Harrison’s words were all about defending Willow. “As Blake’s future wife, you need to be more understanding.” “Listen to me, delete that Ins post, and this whole thing can be over. Don’t let relatives and friends make fun of us.” And just like that, I understood exactly where Blake’s complete lack of boundaries came from. Willow’s presence was openly condoned. If I actually married him, the future was suffocating just to imagine. I cut her off. “This isn’t a joke; it’s a matter of principle. Blake and I have broken up. This decision won’t change.” Mrs. Harrison’s displeasure was palpable. “You child, why are you being so unreasonable?” I didn’t want to argue anymore. “Sorry, I have to go.” I hung up and blocked her number too.

Seraphina POV After hanging up with Mrs. Harrison, I thought of the wedding dress. It was my main gown, the one I’d personally helped design, making over a dozen trips to the studio. Now that I’d decided to break things off, I needed to deal with it-at least pay the final balance or see if it could be returned. I took a cab to the haute couture bridal shop. As I approached the VIP fitting room, before I even pushed the door open, I heard a familiar laugh from inside. “Wow, Blake, does it look good?” My hand froze on the doorknob. It was Willow’s voice. Then came Blake’s voice, full of doting affection. “Gorgeous! It looks custom-made for you, Willow. You’re beautiful in a wedding dress.” I shoved the door open. In front of the full-length mirror, Willow was twirling around, wearing my fishtail white gown. The layers of lace, the intricate details-I’d stayed up late sketching and refining those. Now, they were on another woman. And my fiancé, Blake, was holding his phone, finding angles to photograph her. Hearing the door, they both turned. Seeing me, a flicker of awkwardness crossed Blake’s face. “Seraphina? What are you doing here?” Willow, holding up her skirt, approached me with a sickeningly innocent smile. “Seraphina, don’t get the wrong idea! I just saw this dress. It was too beautiful not to try. You know I’m against marriage. I’ll never have a real wedding. So I thought, why not have a little pretend moment before yours?” She twirled, her skirt brushing my feet. “Seraphina, you don’t mind, do you? I’ll only wear it for ten minutes.” I looked at her, then at Blake. “Take it off.” Blake frowned. “Seraphina, what’s with the temper tantrum again? Willow was just curious; it’s not like she’ll ruin it.” “This is my wedding dress,” I stared at Blake. “It was custom-made for me. I was going to wear it on my wedding day. Blake, do you have any sense of decency at all?” “Are you done yet?” Blake impatiently put down his phone. “Willow is my best friend. It’s just a dress. Is it really worth getting so angry over? Fine, maybe I’ll just give her this dress for her to take pictures in later.” Give it to her? I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. My custom-made wedding dress, in his mouth, had become an item to appease another woman. “Oh no, Blake, don’t yell at Seraphina, it’s all my fault.” Willow put on a tearful act, trying to grab my hand in feigned panic. Just then, the glass of bright red strawberry fruit tea in her hand slipped. The red tea splashed out, most of it spilling onto the pristine white skirt of the wedding dress. Large, dark red stains rapidly bloomed across the snow-white lace. “Ah!” Willow shrieked, covering her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Blake’s first reaction wasn’t even to look at the dress. He immediately pulled Willow closer, anxiously checking her hands and clothes. “Are you okay? Not burned, are you? Did you get your clothes dirty?” After confirming Willow was fine, he finally turned to the ruined dress and frowned at me. “See what you did? You had to come over and yell at her, scaring Willow so much she couldn’t even hold her cup steady. It’s fine. It’s just a little fruit tea stain, the staff can just send it for dry cleaning. Don’t make such a fuss.” I looked at the destroyed dress, my heart sinking further. “No need to clean it.” I looked up. “I find things that have been dirtied disgusting.” Blake froze. “What do you mean?” I turned, walked directly to the counter, and slapped the unpaid balance receipt onto the table. “Manager, I’m not returning this wedding dress. I’m paying the full balance now.” “Since Miss Willow likes it so much and also stained it, then Mr. Harrison can pay for it in full. Blake, didn’t you just say you wanted to give it to her for photos? Pay up.” Blake’s eyes widened. “Seraphina, are you insane? That’s hundreds of thousands of dollars!” “What? You don’t want to spend money on your dear ‘sister’?” I said. “Weren’t you so generous just now?” The surrounding staff and customers all stared, whispering and pointing. Blake gritted his teeth, pulled out his credit card, and slammed it onto the table. “Swipe it! It’s just a damn dress! Only you would treat it like a treasure! I’m buying it for Willow, so you can stop being sarcastic.” The card went through. Willow was still feigning reluctance. “Blake, it’s too expensive, I can’t take it…” “Take it!” Blake, scrambling to salvage the situation, barked the order. “Wear the damn thing whenever you like!” I met his gaze and gave a single, slow nod. “Remember you said that. The dress is yours now.” Then I turned and walked out of the bridal salon His frustrated shout chased after me. “Seraphina! Get back here! What is this now? You’re being impossible!” I didn’t stop. Tears fell, but I quickly wiped them away.

Seraphina POV When I got home at night, I felt a chill seep into my bones, and my stomach churned with spasmodic pain. Perhaps the anger from the bridal shop, combined with not eating all day, had triggered my chronic gastritis. I forced myself into the bedroom and pulled out my suitcase. I didn’t want to stay in this house for another minute. I began to shove my clothes into the bag. The cramping in my stomach continued, and I just wanted to finish packing quickly. Just then, I heard the sound of the key turning in the front door. Blake was home. He was carrying a few takeout containers. Seeing me pack, Blake paused, then a flicker of impatience crossed his face. “What now? I bought the dress, I paid for it, and you’re still not over it? Are you running away from home now?” In his mind, I was merely throwing a childish tantrum. I barely had the strength to argue with him. Clutching my stomach, I slowly sank to the floor. “Blake, do we have any medicine? Can you get me some water?” Blake frowned, walking over. “Don’t act like this. You were fine at the store earlier. How are you suddenly sick now that you’re home?” “My stomach hurts.” “It really hurts.” Blake scoffed. “Save it, Seraphina. How many times have you played the sick card when we argue? Can’t you come up with something new?” Though he said this, he still placed the takeout on the table and turned to get some water. Just then, his phone rang. Blake’s expression changed instantly. He answered the call. “Hello, Willow?” Willow’s tearful voice came through the phone. “Blake, the power suddenly went out at my place, I’m so scared…” Blake’s voice instantly softened. He patiently cooed, “Don’t be scared, I’ll be right there!” Blake hung up, grabbed his car keys, and started to rush out. “Blake…” I lay sprawled by the bed, using the last of my strength to tug on his pant leg. “I really don’t feel well, take me to the hospital…” Blake stopped, looking down at me. He spoke with irritation. “Stop faking it!” He roughly shook off my hand. “The power’s out at Willow’s, and she has claustrophobia. What if something happens to her? You just have a stomach ache. There’s stomach medicine in the cabinet; you can take a couple of pills yourself. Are you really going to die?” “You just had to put on a show right now. There’s a time and place for drama!” With that, he didn’t spare me another glance, striding out of the bedroom. BANG! The front door slammed shut. The pain in my stomach felt like it was tearing me apart, but the coldness in my heart was far worse than the physical agony. I curled into a ball on the floor, tears silently soaking into the carpet. It turned out that in Blake’s heart, half of my life was less important than a power outage at Willow’s place. This was the man I had loved for seven years. This was the man I wanted to spend my life with. After a long while, my hand trembling, I dialed 911. “Hello, emergency services, I’m having severe stomach cramps, my address is…” After hanging up, I struggled to my feet, rummaged through a drawer for painkillers, and dry-swallowed two pills. A bitter taste spread in my mouth. I looked at the empty room and suddenly laughed. Blake, since you love being with her so much, then stay with her forever. This home, this place, I don’t want it anymore. By the time the ambulance arrived, I had regained a sliver of strength. I refused the stretcher and walked into the ambulance myself. I was on an IV until midnight at the hospital before the stomach pain finally subsided. I pulled out the needle and went home alone.

Seraphina POV The next morning, Blake pushed the door open. I sat on the sofa, not even looking at him. Blake announced as he changed his shoes, “Willow was scared last night, so she’s staying in our guest room for a few days.” No sooner had he spoken than Willow poked her head out, wearing Blake’s oversized shirt and carrying the bag with the stained wedding dress. “Morning, Seraphina! Blake gave me this dress, I’m thinking of shortening it to wear as a party dress. You don’t mind, do you?” I glanced at the loose men’s shirt; it was Blake’s, now on someone else. I smiled. “Not at all. If you like picking up other people’s unwanted old clothes, keep it.” Willow’s face stiffened. She hadn’t expected me to hit back. Blake frowned, rebuking me with displeasure. “Seraphina, don’t be so nasty. It’s just a dress.” I scoffed, too tired for further argument, and turned to go back to my room. That evening, a pungent, spicy aroma filled the living room. Blake emerged carrying two bowls of noodles. Willow, already seated at the table, eagerly took one. “It smells amazing! Blake, you’re the best, you knew I was craving this.” Blake placed the other bowl in front of me. “There’s plain porridge in the pot, help yourself. Your stomach isn’t well, so no spicy food for you.” Willow ate, sighing dramatically. “Poor Seraphina, can’t even eat this delicious ramen, stuck with tasteless porridge.” I stood at the bedroom door, looking at the starkly divided dinner, and suddenly burst out laughing. I walked to the dining table and looked at Blake. My laughter clearly unnerved him. He impatiently looked up. “What are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing at your bad memory,” I said. “Blake, who told you I naturally love bland porridge?” Blake froze, then slammed his cutlery onto the table. “What new tantrum is this? You’ve been eating like this for three years! I’m doing this for your health, don’t be ungrateful.” “For my health?” I said. “I spent three years eating nothing but bland food with you. Did you seriously think I enjoyed it?” I leaned down, staring into Blake’s eyes, enunciating each word. “Blake, in these three years, did you ever once ask me if I wanted spicy food?” Blake was speechless, his mouth opening and closing. Then, he flushed with anger. “If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t! Eat it or don’t, I don’t care!” I straightened up. “Indeed. Things I don’t like, I won’t touch again.” With that, I turned to leave. “Wait.” Blake stopped me, his tone shifting to a calmer one. “Liam and the others are having dinner tomorrow night, at the usual spot. You should come too.” I paused, my back to him, saying nothing. Blake, assuming I was being stubborn, grew impatient again. “Don’t be difficult. This whole wedding dress thing has upset everyone. If you come tomorrow, it’s the perfect chance to make up with Willow, and then we can just move past all this.” He expected me to quietly show up tomorrow, bow my head, and then he’d forgive my “unreasonable behavior” of the past few days. Willow’s saccharine voice chimed in from behind him. “Exactly, Seraphina. Everyone’s waiting. Don’t be rude.” I turned to face them, this sudden united front. “Alright.” I looked at Blake and smiled. He frowned, but at my agreement, some of the tension left his shoulders. “Good. You’re finally being reasonable.” I didn’t answer and turned back to my room. Go? Of course I’m going. I had seven years of messy history to settle. Why would I leave out the supporting cast? I was going to let everyone know what kind of jerk Blake really was!

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After Jason lost his memory in a car crash, he forgot our ten years of love. He was welcomed back by his powerful birth family, matched with a perfect fiancée, and I became the gold-digging stranger clinging to his past. My flower shop was destroyed. He watched coldly as his fiancée pushed me to the floor. The child in my womb became a pool of blood. He only wrinkled his nose in disgust. “A gold-digger’s daughter, daring to dream above your station.” When fire trapped us both, he rushed to his fiancée without hesitation. As flames burned my skin, I heard his final dismissive words. “Amber, I never lost my memory. You owed me this.” “If there’s a next life, I hope we never meet.” In the darkness, I heard a sterile, mechanical voice. “Jason Thompson has traded his life for your rebirth.” I opened my eyes again. I found myself back to the day he woke up from the car crash, his memory gone. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t try to prove I was his girlfriend. Instead, I offered a calm smile. “Mr. Thompson. I am Amber Reed, your patron.”

“What did you say?” Jason stared at me, rigid, as if taken aback by my answer. Next to him, his fiancée, Sarah, scoffed. “Who are you?! A pauper like you, sponsoring someone? Don’t bring your stench of poverty around us.” But this time, I spoke clearly. “I am Mr. Thompson’s patron from the past ten years.” “The itemized expenses for the last ten years come to one hundred twenty thousand. My lawyer will send you the breakdown.” In my previous life, I’d cried, grasping his hand, recounting our decade of memories over and over, begging him to look at our matching rings. Who would have thought the man who swore to love me forever would publicly rip off his ring and toss it into the trash? Then, he had his bodyguards drag me to the police station, where I was held for 24 hours. The hospital room fell silent, everyone staring at me in shock. Jason’s face shifted, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists. He must have expected me to break down like before, begging him to remember me. That way, he could comfortably use his so-called amnesia like a knife, torturing me without end. His fiancée, Sarah, spoke up. “Is money all you care about?” “Exactly. Between him and me, it’s purely a financial arrangement.” I smiled, then turned to leave. Just then, my phone buzzed, the screen flashing to life, displaying a cherished photo of Jason and me as the wallpaper. Sarah snatched my phone with startling speed, smashing it to pieces, just like my ten years of youth. Then, a cup of scalding hot coffee was poured down, drenching me from head to toe. The hot liquid trickled down my hair and neck, a burning pain that made me tremble. “Who do you think you are, aspiring to his money?” I gasped, about to retaliate, but Sarah shoved me hard. Jason didn’t stir. Suddenly, I felt utterly bored. I pulled a set of keys from my pocket and tossed them at him. “This is the place you used to live. Get your things out within twenty-four hours.” “Otherwise, I’ll treat them as trash.” Jason, still on the hospital bed, his expression frozen. It was just that I’d been so deluded in my previous life that I hadn’t noticed these obvious cracks in his story. He opened his mouth, as if to speak. But I walked out of the room without looking back. A hand grabbed my arm from behind. “Amber!” I stopped, turning back to him. “Didn’t you lose your memory? How do you know my name?” A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but he asked again, “Was our relationship just about sponsorship?” I nodded. Isn’t this what he wanted? Last life, he denied our love. This life, I gave him what he wished for. The hospital room door wasn’t fully closed, and Sarah’s voice drifted out. “Jason, would you really settle for someone like that?” The room was silent for a moment. Then, Jason sighed. “Back then, I was dependent on their charity, with no real say.” “Calling her my girlfriend is generous; it’s more like I was a pet their family had ‘adopted’ and controlled.” He hurled insults at me, one after another, from my personality to my daily habits, as if demeaning me would solidify his current status. I remembered him once saying he couldn’t live without me. Burning his hands, leaving them covered in blisters, just to cook for me. Scrimping and saving for months just to buy me the necklace I liked. Yet, he could watch our eagerly awaited child turn into a pool of blood right before him and remain utterly indifferent. I touched my lower abdomen, tears silently falling to the ground.

I processed the flower shop transfer and contacted a private investigator. Back home, everything was still familiar. The wind chimes he made by hand hung in the living room, and the succulents on the balcony were neatly arranged-plants he watered every weekend. The fridge was filled with my favorite drinks, plastered with sticky notes. “Remember to eat breakfast.” “Temperature dropped today, wear more layers…” I traced those yellowing notes, then peeled them off one by one and tossed them into the trash. That night, I dreamt. In the dream, we still lived in this little house. He was in the kitchen, wearing an apron, experimenting with delicious recipes for me. I wanted to help, but he shooed me away to watch TV. He never let me get involved in household chores. He’d even wash fruit and bring it right to my mouth. When our passion burned brightest, we’d spend entire days nestled together at home, lost in each other’s kisses and embraces. I didn’t want to wake up until the doorbell jolted me. When I opened the door, a bank card slapped against my face. “Here’s your money.” “I’m here to get my things.” Jason stood there in a sharp suit, his face cold and unyielding, a completely different man from the one in my dream, wearing an apron. He had brought Sarah with him. The giant wedding photo in the living room hadn’t been taken down yet. Jason paused for a moment as he walked past it. If I hadn’t wanted to postpone our wedding after my parents passed, we would have been married last year. Everything was ready, just one step away from the final ceremony and registering our marriage at the government office. “You even manipulated Jason into taking wedding photos, still fantasizing about marrying into wealth, huh?” Seeing this, I grabbed the baseball bat from the corner and swung it hard. The glass of the photo frame shattered across the floor. “Amber! What are you doing?!” Jason’s face darkened. He instinctively grabbed Sarah, pulling her behind him, as if afraid I’d swing the bat at her. He pushed me away with his hand. I instinctively protected my stomach, and as I fell, my hand accidentally landed on the shattered glass. He looked at the twisted, broken wedding photo and scoffed. “So why were you faking it at the hospital?!” His gaze landed on me, as if asking why I wasn’t confessing. I didn’t speak, enduring the pain, and pulled all his belongings out in a heap. “Jason Thompson, do you still want this junk?” Sarah emerged from behind Jason, walking over in her heels, and kicked over a box. It was the first gift he ever bought me, a music box with a dancing figurine inside. The music box hit the floor with a crisp, shattering sound. Something I usually cherished fiercely was now split in half, but I felt nothing. Jason never answered, only instructing his bodyguards to move everything out. It wasn’t until he was leaving that he asked in a low voice, “Are you really going to let me go so easily?” I lowered my head and gave a bitter laugh. “Mr. Thompson, you’re joking. Isn’t this what you wanted?” In my previous life, if he’d just been honest, said he was tired of me, I wouldn’t have clung on. But he chose to act, giving me cold shoulders, letting Sarah target and humiliate me. Even when I had a miscarriage right there, he didn’t hold Sarah accountable. Instead, he blamed me for scaring her and demanded I apologize. He played me for a fool, tormenting me, and I could feel a subtle undercurrent of hatred from him. But I never knew where that hatred came from. Sarah grabbed my arm then, thinking I was still clinging to him. I couldn’t resist, and slapped her across the face. The slap echoed sharply, and the next second, Jason’s hand swung out. “What the hell are you doing?!” My head snapped to the side from the impact, my vision went black for two seconds, and my stomach throbbed faintly. My hand trembled, but I managed a smile. “You’ve got your things. Now get out.” I pushed them out the door, tears tracing the red mark on my cheek. My chest ached with pain and nausea. I couldn’t help but rush to the bathroom and retch. That slap felt like it settled the score for Sarah pushing me into miscarriage in my last life. Jason and I were finally even.

Sitting on a cold bench in the OB-GYN department hallway, I waited for my number to be called for my prenatal check-up. “What are you doing here?” Hearing Jason’s familiar voice, I clutched my three-month pregnancy check-up report tightly in my hand. “Doctor’s appointment.” He stared at the OB-GYN sign, his face changing, a hesitant look in his eyes. Just as he was about to say something, Sarah interrupted him. “Jason!” She scurried over in flats, grabbing his arm. “The doctor said you need to come in with me.” “My baby is three months along, and the doctor wants to go over some things with you, the expectant father…” My breath hitched. Three months. So early. In my past life, three months ago was the peak of his startup’s struggle. He was out constantly, and I’d felt so sorry for him, I’d even put my own flower shop on hold. I learned to cook all his favorite meals, tried to make things easier. It wasn’t the business that was consuming him. He had already found his wealthy birth family. He already had a child with another woman. No wonder he was so frantic when I struck Sarah. And in my past life, when I lost our baby…he showed nothing. No grief, no anger. He already had a spare. Sarah noticed me, her expression mocking. “What, are you pregnant too?!” “Don’t think you can come to the hospital with some fake report and trick your way into marrying Jason Thompson.” I forced a smile. “Ms. Sinclair, if you have trust issues, you should see a psychiatrist. Not everyone is desperate for your man.” Sarah’s face instantly flushed, and she started to play the victim. “Jason, why is she talking to me like that?” “Last time, if it weren’t for her slap, I wouldn’t have had unexplained stomach pain and bleeding!” Jason’s face was colder than ice. Then, with his silent permission, two bodyguard-like men walked towards me and dragged me into the stairwell. Without a word, they grabbed my hair, forcing my head back. A loud slap landed on my face, and another bodyguard raised his leg, aiming for my stomach. I’m pregnant too! I struggled desperately, but the bodyguards slapped me several times. I closed my eyes in despair, instinctively protecting my lower abdomen. But it was useless. They kicked my stomach with full force. My stomach hurt so badly. Sarah still wasn’t satisfied. But Jason stepped in front of me first. “Sera, the doctor said you shouldn’t get too agitated; it’s not good for the baby. Let’s leave it at that for now.” Jason’s voice was gentle as he held her shoulder, half coaxing, half escorting her away. He never once glanced at me, curled up on the ground. Blood flowed all over the floor beneath me, my stomach was in agony, and I felt the tiny life inside me slowly fading away. Finally, a passing nurse found me and helped me onto a stretcher. Ding. My phone screen lit up. It was a message from Jason. I didn’t open it; I just dragged his number straight into my blacklist. I lay on the hospital bed, tears silently tracing paths down my face. My baby was gone. I stayed in the hospital for two days, until my flower shop employee called me, saying someone had trashed my store. My body hadn’t fully recovered, but I endured the pain and rushed over. … Just like in my previous life, Sarah came to the flower shop to cause trouble. Even after what happened at the hospital. She wasn’t someone who would let things go. I stood at the doorway, calmly watching everything unfold. Sarah imperiously directed everyone, smashing my flower shop to smithereens. Glass shards exploded, grazing my calves, but I felt no pain. I remembered once, while arranging roses, my finger was pricked by a thorn, and a bead of blood appeared. Jason saw it, held my hand, his brow deeply furrowed. He ran to find a bandage, muttering for me to be careful in the future. But now, he merely stood beside Sarah, oblivious to the destruction, letting her vent. His gaze fell on me, devoid of guilt or concern. In his eyes, I saw a struggling resentment. He hated me. I didn’t know what he hated me for. Did he resent our seemingly unequal relationship from the past? Or did he resent my family for having sponsored him, making him feel indebted and unable to hold his head high? I looked up, meeting Sarah’s gaze. “When you’re done smashing everything, remember to pay for the damages.” Sarah laughed as if she’d heard a joke. “Pay? Jason, did you hear that? She actually wants money. Is this cheap woman insane from poverty?” As she spoke, she grabbed an unbroken vase nearby and threw it at my head. I dodged, and the vase shattered against the wall behind me. I stepped forward, intending to fight back, but Jason’s hand clamped down on my wrist. Jason’s eyes blazed with fury, and he roared, “What right do you have to fight back?!”

He shoved me hard, and I laughed. “Jason, I never intended to cling to you. Why won’t you just leave me alone?” “I’ll be leaving here soon, and I won’t appear again…” Jason’s eyes, however, were full of doubt and disbelief. Sarah scoffed. “Who are you trying to fool? You think you’ll give up that easily?” “And your deadbeat parents, using sponsorship as an excuse to force Jason to marry you. Your whole family was scheming against him.” “Let me tell you, if you dare show your face in front of Jason again, I’ll have someone desecrate your parents’ graves.” My face turned cold. This time, I grabbed Sarah’s hair and slammed her head into the mangled, scattered roses. She shrieked. Her eyes were dangerously close to being pricked by the thorns. Jason wrapped his arms around me from behind, dragging me back. Finally, the bodyguards who rushed in pinned me to the ground, screaming hysterically. Sarah took the opportunity to play the victim, crying as she hugged Jason. “Jason, I’m so scared! She tried to kill me and our baby…” “If you touch my parents’ graves, I swear I won’t let you go!” Jason held her tightly. His face was cold, his eyes like ice. “Amber, how do you know I wouldn’t?” My pupils contracted. My parents had brought Jason home, sponsored his education, and treated him like their own son. He had knelt before their ashes, sobbing, vowing through tears that he would never forget their grace, that he would protect me until his last breath. But now, his words were utterly merciless. I had thought, at the very least, he would spare their memory. It wasn’t until a bodyguard handed him a phone, displaying a picture of my parents’ desecrated graves, the tombstone shattered. Jason’s eyes showed no flicker of emotion, silently condoning the insult. My heart wrenched, and my whole body convulsed with pain. My eyes, fixed on him, felt like they would bleed. “Jason, why?! What did they do wrong…” What did I ever owe him? He shifted his gaze, avoiding my question. “You provoked Sera. She’s carrying my child.” I laughed. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Despair, powerlessness, and suffocation drowned me. Even a second life didn’t make me worthy of the truth. “Just let me go. I won’t bother you again.” Jason’s gaze wavered for a fraction of a second. Then it hardened. “Sera will cover the cost. But you will apologize to her.” I took a deep breath and stood up. Under his doubtful gaze, I slapped him hard across the face. He looked at me in disbelief, mixed with anger and hurt. But I’d had enough of his performance. I turned and left the flower shop. Jason moved to follow me, but Sarah cried out that she felt faint. He had to quickly scoop her up and get into the car. Then, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to his assistant. “Check Amber Reed’s hospital records.” … Days later, en route to the airport, the investigator’s encrypted file hit my inbox. As I read the contents of the first page, my hand trembled violently, and my blood ran cold. So that was why. That was why he’d changed overnight, faking amnesia to look me in the eye and lie. That was why he’d tossed away a decade like it was nothing!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “343217”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn