Category: English

At our company gala, Felix, the three-year sales champion, stood stunned under the spotlight. The prize he had just drawn left the room in shock: the boss’s wife. Panic flooded his face. He insisted it was a sick joke and shot me a desperate look. I walked on stage, patted his shoulder, and told him it was a gift I had prepared just for him. A heavy silence fell. Felix stood frozen, trembling. He begged me to stop joking, saying it would kill him. I calmly straightened his tie, feeling his racing pulse. I said I wasn’t joking. He was my best employee, and that was why I was rewarding him with my wife. Long before the gala, my wife Serena had already prepared his bonus: a villa, a Porsche, and a million in cash. When I joked if she wanted to give him the company too, she just frowned and told me to be more generous. I smiled and said nothing. 1 The suffocating silence in the room was suddenly sliced open. “Victor… Blackwood…” The sharp clatter of Serena’s stiletto heels parted the crowd like Moses parting the sea. She wore a stunning crimson evening gown, looking like a violent spark of fire burning its way straight toward the stage. “There is a limit to your twisted sense of humor!” She raised a hand, pointing a trembling finger so close to my face it almost grazed my eye. “Apologize to Felix. Apologize to me. Right now!” I lowered my gaze, landing on the emerald bracelet wrapped around her slender wrist. I had won it at a Sotheby’s auction for our anniversary last year. The piece was called Eternity. I used to believe that the love between us would live up to the name of those jewels. I thought we would grow old together. But yesterday, when I discovered the little “bonus” Serena had prepared for our top salesman behind my back, I realized that our marriage had long been shattered beyond repair in the places I couldn’t see. “I wasn’t joking.” I shifted my weight, taking a half-step back to let the spotlight fully illuminate Serena. “A luxury villa, a Porsche… I can afford to give away all of that. So why not throw in the boss’s wife?” A collective gasp rippled through the hall. Dozens of people subtly pulled out their phones. “Wait, hasn’t Mr. Blackwood always treated his wife like royalty? What’s going on…” “Is the boss actually joking, or is he just trying to put Felix in his place?” Felix took a stumbling step backward, his eyes clouded with raw, unfiltered fear. Serena’s pupils dilated. The vivid red of her dress only made the sudden, sickly pallor of her face more obvious. “Victor, have you completely lost your mind?” I chuckled softly. I reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my voice as tender as if I were coaxing a child. “Don’t worry about the logistics. The divorce papers will be waiting on your desk right after the gala.” “From today on, you belong to him.” “And the company belongs to me.” Standing under the harsh glare of the stage lights, the last trace of color vanished from Serena’s face. When she spoke again, her voice was absolute ice. “Are you done putting on a show, Victor?” She took a step forward, the heavy thud of her heels echoing over the plush carpet. “If you don’t want to pay out the year-end bonuses, just say it. Using me as a human shield? Do you think everyone in this room is stupid?” The crowd blinked in collective realization. A murmur of agreement swept through the room, as if my dramatic stunt was genuinely just a billionaire’s cheap trick to avoid writing checks to our hardest worker. Whispers erupted into open chatter. “Yeah, Felix single-handedly brought in more than half the department’s revenue this year. Anyone else would get a massive payout.” “The boss promised performance-based bonuses for everyone. Is he backing out now?” “Using his own wife as a lottery prize is insane. He’s obviously just trying to humiliate Felix to save a buck.” I let my gaze sweep across the room. It was like dragging the dull edge of a blade over their throats. The whispers died instantly. But at that exact moment, Felix dropped to his knees with a loud thud. “Boss!” He pressed his forehead to the stage floor, the absolute picture of a broken, desperate man. “If I messed up a contract, if I offended a VIP, just tell me! I’ll take any punishment you dish out. But please, don’t make jokes about Serena!” “If you don’t want to pay my bonus, keep it. I don’t want a dime. Just please don’t humiliate me like this.” “I have elderly parents to take care of, Mr. Blackwood! I can’t afford to lose this job!” Serena immediately seized the moment, her voice ringing out loud and clear. “Listen to that, Victor. Even your employees know more about loyalty and gratitude than you do. You’re afraid of paying them? Fine. Sign over your shares. I’ll pay them out of my own pocket. From this moment on, you don’t deserve to sit in the CEO’s chair.” She spun around to face the massive crowd of employees. “Listen to me, everyone! Whoever wants to follow me, stand on this side of the room. Your year-end bonuses? I’ll double them.” The banquet hall plunged into a deathly stillness. Then came the chaotic scraping of chairs. A few junior girls from the marketing department stood up first. The Director of Operations hesitated for a fraction of a second before kicking his chair back and walking over. Even Gary, the incredibly laid-back night security guard, let out a heavy sigh, unclipped his ID badge, and gently set it on his table before crossing the floor. The crowd slowly pooled behind Serena like a rising tide. I did the math in my head. Two-thirds of the company. The remaining third consisted of the core veterans from the tech and supply chain departments. I felt a flicker of genuine warmth knowing they were standing their ground for me. I looked down and let out a soft laugh. “Serena,” I said, casually brushing a speck of imaginary dust off my tailored suit cuff. “Are you seriously trying to stage a corporate coup right now?” A cold, calculating smirk touched the corners of her lips. “Victor, you’re a greedy, penny-pinching tyrant. You have zero appreciation for the blood and sweat these people pour into your company. All you want is to bleed them dry.” “You don’t deserve to be a leader.” Thunderous applause broke out from her side of the room the second she finished. “We stand with Serena!” I leveled a freezing glare at the traitors cheering behind her. “Do you honestly believe I’ve treated you poorly? Who do you think signed the checks for the bonuses you’re already holding?” “You’re going to bite the hand that feeds you for this woman?” Felix was still trembling on his knees. Serena reached down and gripped him firmly by the wrist. “Get up.” Her tone wasn’t loud, but it carried the manufactured authority of a queen holding court. “From today on, you work for me. I always keep my promises. The villa, the Porsche, the cash bonus… you’ll get every single penny.” Focus slowly returned to Felix’s terrified eyes. He stole a quick, calculating glance at me from the corner of his eye to make sure I wasn’t going to physically stop him. Then, using Serena’s grip for leverage, he straightened his spine inch by inch. The moment he was standing tall, it was as if Serena had injected him with pure adrenaline. His voice boomed loud enough to rattle the chandeliers. “Listen up, everyone! I’ve been at Blackwood Corp for five years. I went from a street-level cold-caller to a three-time champion. And I didn’t do it on luck. I did it because Serena gave me the resources. She had my back!” “Today, the boss treated his own wife like a carnival prize to make a fool out of me. I can take the hit. But you all saw it… even his wife can’t stomach his behavior anymore.” “Who in their right mind wants to keep working for a man who goes back on his word and uses his own family as bargaining chips?” He aggressively pointed a finger at me, leaning in so close I could smell the stale wine on his breath. “I’m putting it all on the line right now. Anyone who follows Serena, step over here. She’s signing the checks tonight, and they’re doubled. Anyone who stays behind with this cheapskate can stick around and see what kind of twisted lottery game he plays with your lives next year!” It was like he had tossed a live grenade into the crowd. The team leader of Sales Division Two slammed his wine glass onto the table, shattering it, and marched over. A young girl from accounting hugged her folders to her chest, jogged halfway across the room, then stopped to bow deeply to me before joining the defectors. Even the stoic manager of the supply chain sighed, his fingers lingering on his name tag before he finally pulled it off. Serena watched her new empire rapidly expand, her red lips curving upward like a drawn blade. She raised a hand, calling for silence. The applause, the footsteps, the nervous whispers were instantly snuffed out. “Victor…” She looked at me from a place of absolute, condescending superiority, staring down like I was an animal trapped in a snare. “Do you see it now? Once people lose faith in you, you can never buy it back.” I shrugged, not even bothering to offer a verbal response. Assuming she had won my submission, she pushed her advantage, stepping right up to the very edge of the stage. The harsh lighting stretched her shadow across the floor, making it look like a spear pointed directly at my throat. “I’m giving you two choices.” “Choice one. You hand over the company seals, the corporate legal documents, and the equity transfers. Right now. If I’m in a good mood, I might leave you five percent so you can at least afford a decent tie with your annual dividends.” “Choice two…” She paused, relishing her victory. “I call an emergency shareholder meeting tomorrow morning. I initiate a special resolution and strip you of your Chairman and CEO titles.” “Oh, and while we’re at it, sign the divorce papers. I’ll make sure it explicitly states that the husband committed major marital faults. Don’t worry, I won’t let you keep a single dime.” “So, Victor. Pick one.” Down in the crowd, her newly formed army chanted in perfect, deafening unison. “Step down! Step down! Step down!” The sound vibrated so hard the crystal fixtures above us shook. I looked down, slowly and methodically unfastening my cufflinks. When I looked back up, I raised a single finger, wagging it gently in her direction. “Serena, I think you’ve fundamentally misunderstood how this works.” My gaze drifted past her, past Felix’s smug face, past the sea of traitors chanting for my head. “I built this company from the ground up with my own two hands. I’m not begging anyone to stay. I’m the one who decides who gets to stay, and only those people get a slice of my pie.” Serena’s face twisted with disgust. “You’ve lost the entire room, Victor. Are you seriously still trying to act tough?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I smiled, reaching into my suit pocket and pulling out a sleek black USB drive. “Ladies and gentlemen, weren’t you all dying to know why I decided to give my wife away to an employee?” I casually spun the flash drive between my fingers. “Everything will make perfect sense once you watch this.” “He’s bluffing!” Serena’s face darkened as she screamed at the crowd. “Victor, if you dare project whatever fake garbage you’ve doctored onto that screen, my legal team will sue you into oblivion for defamation and slander tomorrow morning. I will see you rot in a cell.” Her followers nodded in fierce agreement. Felix stepped up beside her, his eyes rimmed red, playing the part of the tragic victim pushed to the brink. “Don’t let him fool you with that flash drive, everyone!” He bowed deeply to the audience, then spun around to point at me, his voice choking with perfectly acted emotion. “Three years ago, I accompanied Mr. Blackwood to Miami to close a massive client. At eleven at night, he called me up to deliver an urgent contract to his penthouse suite. When the door opened, a woman walked out. And it wasn’t Serena. I was so terrified of what he would do to me that I bought a red-eye flight back that very night. The next day, he slashed my entire annual commission, claiming I had ‘mishandled client relations’.” “And that’s not all. Last September, I saw him with my own eyes making out with an Instagram model in the underground parking garage. I kept my mouth shut because I was terrified of retaliation. The man is willing to use his own wife as a lottery prize tonight! Is there anything he isn’t capable of?” The moment his speech ended, a hundred camera lenses zeroed in on my face. I looked down, smiling to myself as I re-buttoned my cuff. “Felix, it’s a genuine tragedy you aren’t writing screenplays in Hollywood. You have quite the imagination… It’s just a shame every word of it is garbage.” I held up the USB drive, pointing it toward the media console at the front of the stage. “Give me three minutes. I guarantee every single one of you will look at me very differently when it’s over.” “Don’t you dare!” Serena stomped her heel so hard it sounded like the stage floor cracked. “My grandfather is on his way right now! If you play that, you’re dead!” “Your grandfather?” I raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Didn’t you tell me the old man was resting at a clinic in the Swiss Alps until next week?” She choked on her words, her face flashing between sickly green and pale white. I sneered, turning my back to her and pressing the USB drive against the port. “Stop right there!” An old, raspy, yet overwhelmingly authoritative voice echoed from the fire exit at the very back of the hall. The crowd parted as if pushed aside by an invisible force, creating a perfectly straight path. Arthur Garrison. Sixty-eight years old. The absolute patriarch and founding pillar of the Garrison Group. He leaned heavily on a blackwood cane, dressed in a sharp, slate-grey tailored suit. I paused my hand and offered the old man a brief, respectful nod. “Arthur. You’re a bit early. We’re just getting to the climax of the show.” Serena looked like a drowning woman who had just been thrown a life raft. She rushed toward him, her voice melting into sickening sweetness. “Grandpa! Why are you here? Your health…” “If I didn’t come, you two would have burned the Garrison name to ash tonight!” The old man cut her off ruthlessly. But his eyes bypassed her entirely, locking directly onto me. Or more accurately, onto the flash drive in my hand. “Victor,” he said, his voice quiet but carrying the heavy grit of a man who had survived decades of corporate warfare. “Do me a personal favor. Don’t play it.” I smiled politely. “Arthur, I’m more than happy to give you the respect you deserve. But did either of them ever show me an ounce of respect?” “If you hit play right now, you are declaring war on the entire Garrison family.” “If the Garrison family is willing to be reasonable, I’ll gladly play nice.” I met his gaze dead on. The tension in the air was so thick it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, the old man handed his cane to his massive bodyguard. He raised his empty hands and clasped them together, bowing his head slightly toward me. It wasn’t a gesture from an elder to a junior. It was an equal-to-equal show of surrender. “Victor, I know exactly what is on that drive. Better than you do.” The entire room erupted into shocked whispers. Serena’s head whipped around, her eyes wide with terror. “Grandpa?” Arthur ignored his granddaughter, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “Give me ten minutes. I will tell everyone in this room the real story. When I’m done, if you still want to play the video… I will click the mouse myself.” He paused, his voice dropping into a register of old, unhealed grief. “Half the sins on that drive… belong to me.” I stayed silent for two long seconds. Then, I pulled the drive away from the port and slipped it into my pocket. “Fine. Ten minutes. But when the time is up, if anyone tries to stop me again, I’m burning this whole place to the ground.” I waved a hand at the tech booth, signaling the spotlight to shift onto the old patriarch. Arthur Garrison walked slowly to the center of the stage, taking the microphone. His shadow stretched long across the room, looking like a crumbling mountain. Serena tried to grab his arm to support him. He shoved her away. Felix opened his mouth to speak. Arthur silenced him with a single, lethal glare. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Arthur’s raspy voice boomed over the speakers. “Ten years ago, the Garrison Group’s supply chain collapsed. We were bankrupt. I was the one who practically gift-wrapped my own granddaughter and handed her to Victor Blackwood.” “Grandpa!” Serena cried out. He raised a hand, ordering her to shut up, and continued. “I told her to secure Victor’s affections by any means necessary, to get her hands on the capital we needed to survive. The money came through. Garrison Group lived. But from day one, this marriage was nothing but a transactional farce.” “I owe Victor. The Garrison family owes Victor. Tonight, he humiliated my granddaughter by offering her up as a prize. It’s a slap in the face to the Garrison name. It’s a slap to my face.” “But to be entirely honest, I threw my own dignity away ten years ago.” In the massive hall, even the clicking of smartphone cameras had stopped. I stood in the wings, my thumb running over the smooth metal casing of the USB drive. Suddenly, it felt incredibly heavy. When the old man finished speaking, he turned to face me. His eyes were like a stagnant pool of dead water. “Your ten minutes are up, Victor. The mouse is yours. Click it or don’t. It’s up to you.” “But remember one thing.” “If you tear her down tonight, you aren’t just destroying Serena. You’re destroying the very company you personally saved ten years ago.” I looked down. I pulled the drive from my pocket and jammed it securely into the media port. The tiny blue indicator light pulsed to life. I hovered my finger over the ‘Play’ icon. “Arthur, don’t blame me for not giving you face. Blame Serena for crossing the line.” “Victor!”

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1 I have an ugly scar across my face. The older kids at the orphanage called me a monster. They tied me to an oak tree in the yard and smeared superglue directly into my scar. I didn’t dare to cry, because Mrs. Higgins, the matron, hated ugly kids who misbehaved. I wished upon every star, praying for the day my father would finally come and take me home. But when he finally did, there was already another little girl taking my place. My brother, Cole, blamed me for stealing her spot. He forced me to kneel on the floor on all fours, using my back as her personal footstool. If she so much as whispered that I was bullying her, my father wouldn’t hesitate to slap me across the face. “I should have left you to rot in that orphanage.” Later, when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and was actually sent back to the orphanage, my father came looking for me, choking back tears. “I’m so sorry, Riley. Please, let’s go home.” But Daddy, bad kids who nobody loves don’t have a home. … “Stay down! If you make Patrika fall, I swear I’ll make you regret it!” I was kneeling on the hardwood floor right next to Patrika’s luxurious princess bed. It was the only spot in the room without a plush rug. The hard wood dug painfully into my bony knees. Cole gently held Patrika’s hands as she stepped up onto my back. “Riley is too skinny. It hurts my feet to step on her…” she complained softly. I never had enough to eat at the orphanage. I was five years old, but I was smaller and more fragile than a typical three-year-old. Patrika was entirely different. She was fiercely protected and pampered by my father and Cole, her cheeks round and rosy. Just her weight pressing down on my spine made me wobble. My bones cracked under the pressure. It hurt. But it didn’t hurt as much as being beaten by the other kids back at the orphanage. They used to take sharp pocket knives and trace the jagged edges of my ugly scar. Then they would pour superglue into the fresh cuts. They would stuff a filthy, wet rag into my mouth so no one could hear my muffled screams. Back then, I used to tell myself: It’ll be okay once Riley has a real family. They’ll definitely protect me. But the more I thought about it now, the more my chest ached. It felt just like the superglue pulling at my skin. I accidentally swayed under Patrika’s weight. Cole immediately smacked the back of my head. “Watch it!” “You already killed Mom, are you trying to break Patrika’s legs now?” “Patrika isn’t like you. She’s delicate. If she gets a single scratch, Dad will walk out of a board meeting to check on her. Know your place!” I stuttered out a frantic apology. “I’m sorry. It’s Riley’s fault.” The very first day I came home. Cole told me that when I was just learning to crawl, I accidentally knocked over a lit candle. To save me, my mother was burned alive in the ensuing house fire. And I simply vanished. He had shoved me to the ground, pointing a furious finger right in my face. “You should be dead. What right do you have to kill Mom and then just waltz back into this house?” I sat frozen on the floor. The wounds the orphanage kids had dug into my face tore open again. Tears welled up in my eyes. But I forced them back. I couldn’t cry. Mrs. Higgins always said ugly monsters like me didn’t deserve to cry. Only children who were loved had the right to shed tears. Besides, I was the murderer who killed my own mother. So if it hurt this much, it meant Mommy was angry in heaven, punishing me for being a bad kid. The butler suddenly announced from the hallway: “Young Master, Miss Patrika, Mr. George is home.” Patrika picked up the edges of her frilly dress and squealed, running out of the room to greet him. “Daddy!” Cole followed closely behind, his voice full of exasperated affection. “Slow down, Patrika, don’t trip!” The butler watched me as I stiffly tried to push myself up off the floor. A deep look of disgust flashed across his eyes. “Mr. George hates tardiness. Move faster.” I finally got my feet under me. The blinding pain in my knees made it impossible to stand up straight. As I swayed, about to fall, I reached out to grab something to steady myself. But as my hand brushed toward the butler’s sleeve, he aggressively stepped back. He watched with cold, dead eyes as I crashed heavily onto the floor. “Miss Riley, I might be the hired help, but I still have standards for cleanliness.” I didn’t fully understand what his words meant. But the look in his eyes told me exactly what I needed to know. He hated me. He thought I was filthy. I forced a dry, raspy apology out of my throat. It was a survival reflex I learned at the orphanage. As long as I apologized, the beatings wouldn’t last as long. By the time I limped my way into the grand dining room. They were already halfway through their meal. My father glared at me, his voice freezing cold. “Riley George. Why are you incapable of being on time?” 2 The last time I was late, Cole and Patrika had locked me in the basement storage room. I wasn’t found until the maids heard me scratching at the door the following evening. I missed two dinners that time. The time before that, Cole had zipped me into a large suitcase. I nearly suffocated to death, so naturally, I missed dinner then, too. This time, my knees were bruised black and blue, swollen so badly that every step felt like walking on broken glass. I really tried my best to get here quickly. I didn’t want Daddy to be angry. And I really didn’t want to be thrown away and sent back to the orphanage. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Riley just…” Before I could finish, Cole cut me off sharply. “I don’t care what your excuse is. The George family eats dinner exactly on time. Do you understand?” I froze for a second. Cole didn’t want Daddy to know about the games he liked to play with me. I didn’t say another word and quietly climbed into my chair. The plates in front of me were piled high with expensive seafood. I had eaten a single shrimp once at the orphanage. Immediately after, my entire body broke out in angry, red hives. One of the teachers there told me I had a severe seafood allergy. She said if it got bad enough, I would go to heaven. Seeing that I hadn’t picked up my fork, Patrika’s eyes filled with tears. “Riley, are you refusing to eat because you hate me?” “I know… I know you feel like I stole your place… I can leave.” I didn’t mean that at all! I opened my mouth to explain, but my father’s icy words stabbed straight into my chest. “Riley. If you aren’t going to eat, get out of my sight!” He pulled Patrika onto his lap, comforting her while handing her a stack of brightly colored gift boxes I had never seen before. “This is your home, sweetheart. Nobody is making you leave.” “You are my daughter. Don’t cry.” His gentle, coaxing tone was exactly what I had always dreamed of hearing. But the girl in his arms wasn’t me. My heart felt like it was being pinched by a crab’s claws. Even breathing hurt. I clutched my chest. I silently mouthed: Daddy, I think my heart is allergic to you. I didn’t know how much time had passed. The basement door clicked open. The butler handed me a small, plain bowl of porridge. “Mr. George was worried you’d be hungry. He sent this down for you.” I took the bowl numbly, instinct taking over. “Thank you.” By the time the words left my mouth, the door was already locked again. Daddy really did care about me! The warmth of the bowl radiating into my palms made my chest feel full. I had never eaten a hot meal at the orphanage. The older kids always forced me to eat their cold, discarded scraps. Since coming home, I was always locked away during dinner. I was never allowed to eat breakfast or lunch with them during the day. I wolfed down the sweet, warm porridge as fast as I could. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I felt so happy. I was so incredibly happy… I scraped the bowl completely clean. My little stomach was perfectly round and full. But it didn’t take long. Angry red hives erupted across my arms and chest. My throat began to swell rapidly. Patrika stepped into the basement, a sweet smile on her face. “I was worried you’d still be hungry, so I asked the chef to mix some scallop broth into your porridge. Was it yummy, Riley?” I couldn’t stand up straight. I collapsed onto the concrete floor. “Patrika… Riley needs to go to the hospital…” My voice was barely a raspy squeak. Cole let out a cruel, mocking laugh from behind her. “Stop being so dramatic. You need a hospital because you ate a bowl of rice?” “Since you’re full now, get up and play with Patrika.” He tied two thick ropes to a rafter in the basement. He tied one rope around my ankles, hoisting me up until I was hanging upside down, and forced me to grip the other rope tightly with both hands. “Patrika wants to go on the swings. You better hold on tight. If you drop her, you’re dead!” The hives covering my body burned and itched violently. I wanted to beg them to stop, but my throat was swelling so fast I couldn’t pull air, let alone speak. All I could manage were pathetic, muffled whimpers. “Shut up! Stop making those annoying noises.” Cole lifted Patrika up and placed her sitting directly on my stomach. The sudden, crushing weight made my sweaty hands slip against the coarse rope. The next second, Cole pushed Patrika hard from behind. My body swung wildly into the air. My vision began to blur and go black in patches. The single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling pierced my eyes. I thought I saw my mother standing in the light. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be alive. You deserve this, Riley. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mommy. The tears I had held back for so long finally broke. Patrika’s joyful giggles echoed louder than my quiet sobs. With every single cheer that left her mouth. My body and my heart splintered a little more. If people go to heaven when they die. Then a bad kid like me would definitely be going to hell. 3 I lost track of time. The butler’s voice echoed down the stairs. “Mr. George is home.” I was already completely numb to the pain. The coarse rope had shredded the skin on my palms, leaving them slick with blood. But I didn’t dare let go. I was terrified that if Patrika fell, she would get hurt. When my father walked down the stairs. Patrika viciously dug her fingernails into the back of my hand. The sudden, blinding pain caused my fingers to reflexively pop open. She instantly tumbled to the floor, scraping her knee. “Patrika! Are you okay?!” Cole rushed forward in a panic, pulling her up. My father rushed past me, immediately kneeling down to inspect her microscopic scratch. I was still hanging upside down from the rafters. Watching this beautiful, loving family moment made my eyes sting with fresh tears. “What on earth happened here?” My father barked orders at the maids to bring the first-aid kit. While carefully disinfecting her scratch, he demanded answers. Patrika stayed quiet for a moment, before finally letting out a devastated sob, acting as if she couldn’t hold back the injustice any longer. “Daddy… Riley was bullying me.” “She intentionally dropped me on the hard floor. It hurts so much…” Since the day she arrived, she had been treated like a porcelain doll. She had never known a day of pain. The moment she cried, my father’s heart broke. He finally ordered the butler to cut me down. Before my feet were even firmly on the ground, a heavy hand struck me across the face. The force sent me violently crashing back onto the floor. I stared up at him, forcing air through my constricted throat. “Daddy… I hurt too…” “I… I have hives…” But I forgot. My face was already a mangled mess of ugly, raised scar tissue. The hives were completely invisible underneath the damage. My father’s expression darkened into something truly terrifying. “Not only are you a pathological liar, but you’re a vicious bully too?” “Riley, I should have let you rot in that orphanage.” So it was true. Daddy hated me too. Cole stuck his tongue out at me, mocking me. “Serves you right. Hurry up and get sent back to the trash where you belong!” They carried Patrika upstairs, leaving me alone in the dark. I slowly pushed myself off the floor. I noticed a crushed ring of wildflowers lying near the staircase. Next to it were a few dried leaves I had pressed into bookmarks. I had spent weeks at the orphanage secretly collecting them, saving them so I could give them to my new family as gifts when I finally came home. But someone had trampled them. I carefully picked up the crushed pieces. Staring at the empty staircase where they had disappeared, the tears wouldn’t stop falling. The single, fraying thread in my mind that commanded me to be a good girl finally snapped. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I scrambled up the stairs, chasing after them. “Daddy… Cole…” “Please don’t throw Riley away… Riley knows she was bad…” I screamed until my vocal cords bled. But my voice was entirely drowned out by the roar of the luxury SUV’s engine starting in the driveway. The car accelerated toward the front gates, and no matter how fast my little legs ran, I couldn’t catch them. Inside the car, the driver glanced at the rearview mirror. “Mr. George, Miss Riley is chasing the car…” My father looked in the mirror, then looked down at Patrika, who was still whimpering softly in his arms. His voice was like ice. “Ignore her.” Drip… The sky opened up, pouring heavy, freezing rain. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. When I looked down, my hand was smeared with bright red. I wiped my face again. Blood. It was all blood. I read in a picture book once that if you lose too much blood, you die. Mommy, this must be what bad kids get. I collapsed onto the wet pavement. The crushed flowers and leaves were washed away in the muddy puddles, completely destroyed. Just like my heart. When I woke up again. I heard my father talking to a doctor outside the hospital room door. “The little girl’s condition is catastrophic.” “The anaphylactic shock nearly killed her, and her body is covered in both old, healed fractures and fresh lacerations…” “But the most critical issue is the tumor growing in her brain. She likely only has a few months left to live.” My father’s voice was hoarse, trembling slightly. “Are you telling me… my daughter has terminal cancer?” So it was true. I really was going to die soon. I slid out of the hospital bed and quietly sneaked out the back stairwell. If Daddy wanted me to go back to the orphanage. Then I would go back. Before I left, I scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. Just like the day I was born, I disappeared without making a sound. When I showed up at the orphanage gates, Mrs. Higgins sneered. “Look who’s crawling back.” “Did your rich daddy finally figure out he didn’t want you?” I gripped the hem of my thin hospital gown, the rough fabric digging into my bloody palms. “No. Riley decided she didn’t want them anymore.” The older kids erupted into vicious, mocking laughter. “Who do you think you are?” “You got thrown away because you’re a hideous freak!” I didn’t even see who threw the first punch. Fists and slaps rained down on my face and body. I should have been completely used to this. So why did it hurt so much this time? It hurt so much I couldn’t stop crying. Riley doesn’t want to be thrown away. Riley doesn’t want to die. Riley isn’t a bad kid. My face was slick with fresh blood. Just as my knees gave out, I was caught in a pair of strong, unfamiliar arms. My father, his eyes bloodshot and blazing with rage, roared at Mrs. Higgins. “Is this how you take care of my daughter?!”

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My daughter and I were in a terrible car accident that left us with total amnesia. Instead of staying to care for us, my wife, a psychiatrist, traveled the world with her depressed ex and his son. Slowly, we started to remember. My wife noticed we had become quieter, more independent, and well behaved. She thought her life was perfectly balanced. But on Christmas Eve, she left us again to be with her ex. When she finally came home, she overheard us talking. My daughter asked, “Dad, is that woman really my mom?” She said calling her “Mom” never felt right. I agreed. I said she wasn’t my type and I didn’t know why I’d married her. My daughter smiled. “You like Ms. Finnerty, right? She blushes when she sees you.” Before I could reply, she whispered loud enough to be heard through the door, “Dad, how about we just get a new mom?” 1 For dinner, I ordered two portions of suicide hot buffalo wings. My daughter and I were eating them, sweating bullets and breathing heavy. A voice, both familiar and incredibly foreign, suddenly echoed from behind us. “You didn’t wait for me?” We both jumped in our seats. Turning around, we saw a beautiful woman standing in the doorway. Her facial features were strikingly similar to my daughter’s, but she radiated a freezing, unapproachable aura. It was Madison. My wife, and my daughter’s mother. She walked closer, her eyes locking onto our grease smeared mouths and the basket of blazing red wings. Her brows knitted together in deep disgust. “We have been married for six years. Do you not know I have a severe stomach ulcer and can’t eat spicy food?” Sophie sucked the meat off a chicken bone and blurted out, “We didn’t order this for you. This is what we wanted to eat.” Madison froze dead in her tracks. I let out an awkward chuckle, scrambling to smooth things over. “Well… I saw your Instagram story. You were at the amusement park with Nathan and his son, so I just assumed you guys would grab dinner together.” “Oliver,” she cut me off. Her tone carried her usual, heavy impatience. “I have explained this to you. Nathan’s wife abandoned them, and it triggered severe clinical depression in both him and his boy. I am a medical professional. I am simply fulfilling my duty.” “But what about you?” she continued, her voice turning ice cold. “As a husband and a father, you not only caused a massive scene at my clinic, but you also taught Sophie to be petty and jealous.” She paused, staring down at us. “Did getting into that car crash finally teach you a lesson?” A tidal wave of memories crashed into my brain. I remembered finding out that the patient she had been doing round the clock care for was actually the guy she never got over from high school. I remembered dragging our daughter to her office to catch them in the act. She had just pulled us into a corner, looking utterly exhausted. She told me she kept it a secret because she knew I would overreact. She said abandoning a suicidal patient was medical malpractice. She told me to stop acting like a lunatic in front of her traumatized patient. Her cold, clinical tone always made me and my daughter look like hysterical maniacs. So, I had paid people to hold up massive signs outside her clinic, exposing her for having an affair with a patient. Sophie had taken a megaphone to kindergarten, chasing Nathan’s son around, screaming that his dad was a homewrecker and telling the other kids not to play with him. After that, Nathan and his son stood on a rooftop, crying and threatening to jump. To force me to back down, Madison pulled strings to get me fired from my job. She made sure Sophie was completely isolated and bullied at her preschool. I had suffered a total mental breakdown and threatened her with divorce. She finally compromised, promising to keep strict professional boundaries with them. Sophie and I had believed her. We had even booked our fifth anniversary trip months in advance, counting down the days until she finally took some time off. On the day of the trip, we went to the hospital with beaming smiles to pick her up. Instead, we received a freezing phone call. “Emergency business trip. The vacation is postponed.” We were walking out of the hospital lobby, completely crushed, when we overheard two nurses chatting and laughing by the corner. “Dr. Madison is so dedicated to Mr. Nathan. She actually took a six month leave of absence just to travel with him and his son for therapeutic healing!” “I know, right? I heard she’s already in a cab escorting them to the airport.” My ears rang violently. It felt like a massive chunk of my chest had been carved out with a rusty knife. Before the tears could even fall from my eyes, I looked down and saw Sophie’s pale little face. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks as her voice trembled. “Daddy… does Mommy really not want us anymore?” That single sentence shattered whatever was left of my sanity. I grabbed Sophie’s hand and ran toward the street, desperate to chase Madison down. We needed an answer. We needed her to look us in the eye and tell us if she still wanted this family. But before we ever caught up to her, the truck hit us. When we woke up in the hospital, our world had been wiped clean. Aside from each other, we had no idea who she was. And she used our amnesia as the perfect excuse to put us on a shelf and forget about us. The memories receded. Sophie and I exchanged a highly awkward glance. Even though our memories were back, the emotions attached to them were completely dead. Honestly, we couldn’t even comprehend why our past selves had acted so psychotic over this woman. We immediately swore to her that we wouldn’t cause any more trouble. We promised we would never bother her and her patients again. Madison’s face darkened even more. It took her a long time to regain her signature, controlling composure. “I am taking them to the national park tomorrow for nature therapy. Make sure you prep three lunchboxes for us.” “Sophie, make sure you copy an extra set of your class notes for Toby.” She turned toward the hallway, tossing one last cold remark over her shoulder. “You better keep your word. Don’t do anything… humiliating again.” The bedroom door clicked shut. Sophie and I looked at each other and shrugged at the exact same time. Then, I pulled out my phone and ordered us a massive, luxury breakfast delivery for the morning. Sophie texted her teacher, politely asking for a digital backup of the class materials. As for tomorrow? We already promised Ms. Finnerty we were going hiking with her. Nobody had time to worry about Madison. 2 Early the next morning, Nathan’s soft, gentle voice drifted in from the living room. “Madison, is it really just going to be us? Maybe… maybe we should invite Oliver and Sophie? I really don’t want them getting the wrong idea. I can handle the stress, but Toby is so little. He can’t take any more bullying…” Toby chimed in with a tiny, pitiful voice. “Dad, I’m okay. Sophie didn’t… she didn’t mean to be mean to me.” Madison’s voice immediately softened into a warm hum. “Be a good boy, Toby. Don’t worry about them. If I bring them along, God knows what kind of scene they’ll cause. It would ruin your therapy.” I sighed, rolled over in bed, and drifted back into a groggy sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, a brutal force was yanking me up by the collar of my shirt. Madison literally dragged me out of the bedroom and threw me into the living room. “Look at what your precious daughter did!” she hissed, her voice vibrating with rage. “Look at what she did to Toby!” Nathan was sitting on the floor, his eyes red and teary, cradling Toby. The boy was covered in mashed potatoes and gravy, shivering like a wet stray dog. My daughter was sitting on the floor in the middle of the mess. Her small hands were fiercely guarding three insulated lunchboxes. Her face was flushed bright red, and heavy tears were hitting the hardwood floor. “I didn’t push him!” she cried out, her voice cracking. “He’s a thief! He stole the lunch my dad made for me! I just wanted to get it back!” Madison didn’t even spare her a glance. She was entirely focused on using wet wipes to carefully clean Toby’s jacket, whispering comforting words to Nathan. Only after she finished did she turn around. Her eyes held a look of profound exhaustion, as if she was watching a pathetic, predictable reality show. “Oliver. Just because I asked you to make a few extra portions of food, you hold a grudge and teach your daughter to pull these disgusting stunts?” “You promised me last night you would behave. Did you really break your word that fast?” I took a deep breath, trying to explain rationally. “I didn’t teach her anything. And I believe Sophie is telling the truth. I left your three lunchboxes on the kitchen island hours ago. Toby probably just grabbed the wrong one by mistake…” “Enough.” Madison cut me off with absolute disgust. “Drop the act. I haven’t forgotten the psycho things you two used to do. The apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree. You need to take a long, hard look in the mirror and figure out how to be a real father.” Every word I wanted to say died in my throat. When we had our massive fallout in the past, we agreed to compromise. If she kept her distance from Nathan, we would keep the peace. After that, Madison did come home on time. She texted me her location. But the second Nathan’s son got a tiny scrape on his knee at kindergarten, she would drop everything, rush to the school, and force Sophie to apologize. Whenever Sophie cried and tried to defend herself, Madison would just glare at me with eyes made of ice. “Oliver, does your word mean absolutely nothing? Stop throwing tantrums. Do not drain the last drop of patience and love I have for you. Because if you push me to the edge, there will be nothing left to salvage.” The worst incident was when she looked down at Sophie and said, “If my daughter is this malicious and toxic, I don’t want her.” How could a little girl handle hearing that from her own mother? She had chased Madison’s car down the street barefoot, her feet bleeding on the pavement, desperately grabbing onto Madison’s coat and taking the blame for things she never did. “Mommy! I’m sorry! It’s all my fault! I’ll never do it again! I apologized to Toby!” “Please don’t abandon me and Daddy!” Since that day, my daughter never dared to defend herself again. I let out a very quiet sigh. What was the point of explaining? In her eyes, we were already convicted criminals with a long rap sheet. I pulled Sophie tightly into my chest. My voice was low and steady. “Sophie, give them the lunchboxes.” Sophie’s body went completely rigid. A second later, she aggressively wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn’t argue. She just quietly pushed the insulated containers across the floor. Madison didn’t even look at us. She bent down, scooped Toby into her arms, placed a protective hand on Nathan’s back, and walked toward the door. SLAM. The heavy thud of the front door echoed through the house, leaving behind a suffocating, dead silence. It was just me, my daughter, and a ruined floor. I quietly grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the mess. Sophie crouched down next to me, helping me pick up the spilled food. After a long time, I asked her softly. “Sophie. If one day, Daddy and Mommy don’t live together anymore…” “Who do you want to stay with?” I had asked her this exact question back when the drama with Madison was at its absolute worst. Back then, she had sobbed uncontrollably. “I don’t want Mommy and Daddy to separate! I want our family to be together forever!” But right now, there was zero hesitation. She looked up at me, her big eyes clear and remarkably determined. “I’m staying with you, Dad.” “No matter what happens, I only want you.” I looked at her, and a genuine smile broke across my face. The last trace of freezing cold in my chest melted away completely. I gently ruffled her hair. “Okay.” If she was with me, I had absolutely nothing to fear. 3 Just as I tossed the last paper towel into the trash, the doorbell rang. “Oliver? Sophie? Are you guys home?” Sophie’s eyes instantly lit up. “It’s Ms. Finnerty!” She bolted down the hallway to open the door. Outside stood a beautiful young woman with soft features. She immediately bent down to catch the little girl launching into her arms. Noticing Sophie’s red, puffy eyes, Finnerty’s voice instantly melted into worry. “Sophie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?” The little girl buried her face into Finnerty’s shoulder, whining pitifully. “The lunch Daddy made for me… got taken away…” “It’s okay,” Finnerty said, gently rubbing the girl’s back, her voice incredibly soothing. “I made a fresh batch. It has all of your and your dad’s favorites.” She had a magical way with kids. Within three sentences, she had Sophie giggling through her tears. Finnerty finally looked up at me, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for dropping by unannounced, Oliver. You weren’t answering your phone, and I got a bit worried.” “Please, don’t apologize,” I said quickly. “You literally saved my and Sophie’s lives. You’re always welcome here.” Half a year ago, Finnerty was the one who pulled us out of the mangled wreckage of our car. She ran every red light to get us to the emergency room. When she found out we had memory loss and were struggling with basic cognitive functions, she practically took over. She brought us home cooked meals every day and drove Sophie to and from school. Once our memories fully returned, she gracefully stepped back, keeping a perfectly polite and professional distance. But shortly after she found out the truth about our car crash, she mysteriously transferred to Sophie’s kindergarten as a new teacher. Finnerty’s ears turned a faint shade of pink. She spoke softly, “Oliver, I have the whole hiking trail mapped out. Ready to go?” Just as she promised, the day was perfectly organized. When Sophie got tired of walking, Finnerty naturally crouched down. “Hop on, kiddo.” I felt incredibly guilty. “Don’t spoil her too much, Finnerty. You’re already carrying the heavy backpack.” She just laughed, casually walking by my side. “It’s fine. I hit the gym all the time. I’ve got plenty of stamina.” For some reason, looking at her beautiful side profile in the sunlight, my heart skipped a weird beat. Even after we reached the rest area and she took Sophie to buy water, that strange fluttering in my chest didn’t go away. Right at that moment, a familiar, childish voice echoed from down the trail. “Mommy! Let’s race!” Followed by Nathan’s laughing voice. “Slow down, Toby! You’re going to trip.” And finally, Madison’s warm, affectionate response. “Sir Toby, your mother is going to catch you!” I turned around. My eyes locked directly with the three of them standing just a few yards away. The air instantly froze. Nathan’s face went completely pale. He yanked his son into his chest, his voice violently shaking. “Oliver… are you… are you stalking us again? I swear, Madison and I are just friends! Toby just misses having a mother, he doesn’t mean anything by it… take your anger out on me, just please don’t hurt my boy…” Madison instantly stepped forward, shielding the two of them behind her body like I was a rabid bear about to attack. Her jaw clenched, her eyebrows pulling together in fierce anger. “Oliver. I told you, this is a therapy session. Their mental state is incredibly fragile. How many times do I have to spell it out for you to stop acting like a paranoid psychopath?” I looked at her familiar yet alien face. I looked at the exact scenario that used to make me scream, cry, and lose my absolute mind. But standing here now, my chest was a lake of total calm. Honestly, the whole thing just felt comical. It’s crazy how you can’t even empathize with your past self. Looking at her, I genuinely couldn’t figure out what I ever saw in her. If I loved her, I would be furious right now. But I just waved my hand dismissively, my tone incredibly relaxed. “I know. It’s your job as a psychiatrist. You really don’t need to explain yourself to me.” “We’re just here to hike. Total coincidence. You guys keep doing your thing. Just pretend we don’t exist.” Madison clearly didn’t expect that. She stared at me intensely. “Toby just called me Mom. You aren’t mad?” I looked at her, genuinely confused. “Why would I be mad?” She analyzed my face, desperately searching for any crack in my composure, any sign that I was faking it. She found absolutely nothing. Her expression turned incredibly dark. The air around her grew even colder. After a long, agonizing silence, she seemed to reach a conclusion in her own head. She spoke with a cold, absolute certainty. “Drop the act, Oliver. I know you’re just throwing a tantrum. I will sit down and have a serious talk with you tonight. But right now, you need to go home. I’ll let this incident slide.” I was just about to tell her she was delusional when a clear, melodious voice chimed in from behind me. “Oliver, is everything okay?” Madison whipped her head toward the voice, her entire body freezing in place. “What’s going on?” Finnerty walked up to my side, carrying my daughter. Sophie’s face was covered in sticky sugar dust. I naturally stepped toward them. “What took you guys so long? Did Sophie beg you for junk food again?” Catching Sophie’s desperate, pleading look, Finnerty laughed smoothly to cover for her. “I just got her a tiny cotton candy for an energy boost. And this one is for you.” Like a magician, she pulled a massive, fluffy cotton candy from behind her back and handed it to me. I couldn’t help but smile. I reached out to take it. “Oliver,” Madison’s voice sliced through the air like a razor blade. “Who is she?” Hiding behind Madison’s legs, Toby peeked his head out and muttered, “Why is Ms. Finnerty here?” I blinked, suddenly realizing something. Ever since Nathan and Toby walked into our lives, Madison hadn’t dropped Sophie off at kindergarten a single time. She hadn’t even bothered to ask who helped us after the car crash. This was the very first time she was laying eyes on Finnerty. “This is Ms. Finnerty,” I introduced her simply. “If it wasn’t for her pulling us out of the wreck half a year ago, Sophie and I wouldn’t be here.” When it was time to introduce Madison, Finnerty already had a polite, gorgeous smile on her face. She extended her hand gracefully. “You must be Toby’s mother. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

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1 “Gas stations dilute their fuel with water all the time. If we pour some of our drinking water into the tank, it will definitely stretch our mileage.” Frank’s voice buzzed in my ear like a persistent mosquito. I pinched my own cheek hard. Pain flared instantly. I was reborn. “Oliver, please don’t be so stubborn. Just listen to the group. This might actually be the only way we get out of these badlands alive,” Frank said, looking at me with wide, timid eyes as if I were a monster about to devour him. Valerie and the rest of the sponsored students were staring me down. I knew this scene perfectly. If I dared to reject Frank’s brilliant suggestion, they would swarm me with righteous indignation. I had already lived through this nightmare once. I offered a bright, entirely hollow smile. “Frank is so smart to come up with such a brilliant idea.” “Go ahead. Pour it in. The car will definitely run so much faster with water in the tank.” … Standing nearby, Valerie offered a rare, relieved smile. “Glad to see you’re finally learning to read the room,” she murmured. I had absolutely no desire to argue with them. My mind was already racing, calculating my own escape route out of this barren wasteland. There were eleven of us in total, split across three off-road vehicles. Originally, Valerie and I were supposed to share a car. But Frank had relentlessly whined until she agreed to ride with him, leaving me driving entirely alone. In my past life, my SUV had the most gas left. Desperate to give the group a chance at survival, I had surrendered all my supplies to them and driven out into the endless desert alone to find a rescue team. In this life, I couldn’t care less if these idiots dug their own graves. As long as I got out alive, nothing else mattered. Drawing on my memories, I knew civilization was about sixty miles west. My gas tank could take me forty-five miles. Thanks to years of extreme sports training, my stamina was peak. I could easily hike the remaining fifteen miles before nightfall, and I had plenty of water in my trunk to survive the trek. With a solid plan in place, the tension bled out of my shoulders. Just to be safe, I popped the trunk and retrieved a heavy, tactical luxury watch. It was a birthday gift from her. In my previous life, she had found this exact watch in the bloody dirt where the wolves had torn me apart. She had completely broken down, slapping her own face in hysterical grief, blaming herself for never telling me it had a built-in military-grade GPS beacon. All I had to do was press a button, and she could have found me anywhere on earth. The corners of my lips curled up. With a few quick presses, I activated the satellite signal. This time, I prayed she would find me. Catching the glint of the expensive metal on my wrist, a flash of ugly jealousy crossed Frank’s eyes. “Oliver, don’t you have a few cases of bottled water in your trunk? Bring them out for us.” My stomach dropped. They wanted to use my drinking water to ruin the cars? 2 “I have four cases in my trunk. Why should I give them to you?” I challenged. Frank crossed his arms, his posture dripping with unearned entitlement. “Oliver, we are stranded in the desert. Water is an incredibly precious resource. You can’t just hoard it all for yourself.” I let out a harsh laugh. Not ten minutes ago, he had used a full bottle of water just to wash his face. Now suddenly he cared about conservation? Valerie stepped forward, fixing me with a cold stare. “Bring it out.” Her tone left zero room for argument. I took a slow breath, forcing down the boiling rage in my chest, and tried one last time to appeal to logic. “I bought that water with my own money.” “Are you seriously keeping score at a time like this?” Frank interrupted, puffing out his chest like a brave martyr. “We have to stay united when we’re in danger. If everyone acted as selfishly as you, how would we ever survive this trip?” Right on cue, the rest of the sponsored students turned their disgusted glares on me. “You can’t drink a whole case by yourself anyway. Hand it over so we can ration it.” “Bring the water out, Oliver! Don’t make us take it by force.” “Rich kids are all the same. Self-centered and useless. You don’t have a fraction of Frank’s maturity.” Self-centered? If my family hadn’t set up the Sinclair Foundation to pay for their tuition, every single one of these ingrates would be breaking their backs on a construction site right now. They wouldn’t have college degrees, and they certainly wouldn’t be guaranteed cushy corporate jobs at my family’s company after graduation. Suddenly, I understood exactly why my parents had insisted I take this road trip with them. Extreme situations strip away the polite masks people wear. This trip was my parents’ final character test for their prospective employees. When I didn’t move, they swarmed the back of my SUV and started dragging the heavy cases of water out. I lunged forward to stop them, but three guys immediately tackled me, pinning me hard against the scorching dirt. I watched, completely helpless, as they unscrewed the caps and poured pristine drinking water directly into the gas tanks. Without water, driving under this blistering sun would guarantee severe dehydration and heatstroke. “Give that back.” I gritted my teeth, struggling to push myself off the ground. Frank seized the opportunity. He scooped up a handful of loose, gritty sand and shoved it violently into my mouth. “Shut up!” he snarled, his voice dropping its innocent act. “Say one more word and I’ll fill your stomach with dirt.” I gagged violently, coughing as the coarse sand scraped down my throat and filled my nasal passages. Tears and mucus streamed down my face. I was completely humiliated, pinned to the earth like an animal. Seeing me so pathetic, the sponsored students erupted into cruel laughter. “Is this really the great heir to the Sinclair fortune? He looks like a stray dog! Hilarious!” I clamped my jaw shut, forced myself up to my knees, and swung my arm back, aiming a brutal slap right at Frank’s smug face. Before my hand could connect, someone gripped my wrist like a vice. While I was restrained, Frank instantly recovered and slapped me across the cheek with all his strength. A sharp crack echoed in the dry air. Valerie froze, dropping my wrist in shock. I slumped back into the dirt, my face burning with a fiery, stinging pain. Frank immediately cowered behind Valerie, his eyes wide with manufactured terror. “I’m so sorry, Oliver! You tried to hit me first! It was just self-defense!” Valerie extended a hand toward me, her face twisting with deep disappointment. “Get up. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I blinked back the moisture in my eyes, tilting my head up to look her dead in the face. “Valerie, we’re done. We are breaking up.” “Frank was just reacting to your violence. He didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Why are you throwing another tantrum?” Valerie shielded Frank with her body, glaring at me warily as if I were a predator about to snap her fragile little flower in half. A suffocating wave of exhaustion washed over me. Throwing a tantrum? From the day we started dating, anytime I didn’t blindly agree with her, I was “throwing a tantrum.” When I chose not to attend the same mediocre university as her, I was throwing a tantrum. When I opted to study abroad for a semester, I was throwing a tantrum. Whenever Frank shed a single crocodile tear, I was throwing a tantrum. “Valerie, we are fundamentally different people. Ending this is the best thing for both of us.” Time had completely eroded the girl I used to love. When I was twelve, I sneaked out to a cheap street food stall and saw Valerie huddled in a greasy corner, scrubbing dishes until her hands were raw. Her eyes had tracked the passing students in their neat uniforms with such desperate longing. 3 My heart had broken for her. I begged my father to sponsor her education. Valerie didn’t waste the opportunity. She studied relentlessly, earning a spot at my elite high school. During our freshman assembly, a massive lighting rig snapped and plummeted toward the stage. She threw herself over me, taking the impact. She suffered a severe concussion and spent a month in the hospital. With blood pouring into her eyes, she had smiled and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” After that, it was only natural that we became a couple. But I didn’t know exactly when her eyes started drifting toward Frank. Like her, he was a charity case. His pathetic, helpless demeanor constantly triggered her savior complex. She wanted to coddle him, to protect him, until eventually her entire heart shifted in his direction. I stumbled to my feet, snatched my keys from Frank’s loose grip, and threw myself into the driver’s seat of my SUV. The moment the engine roared to life, a heavy weight lifted off my chest. I was finally leaving this nightmare. But as I threw the car into drive, Valerie boldly stepped directly in front of my bumper. I slammed the brakes, my forehead smashing violently against the steering wheel. A flicker of genuine concern crossed her eyes as she softened her tone. “Stop being dramatic. It’s suicide to drive out there alone.” Frank hurried over, wrapping an arm around Valerie’s shoulder while shooting me a triumphant smirk. “Oliver, stop acting like a spoiled brat. You have the most fuel. If you drive off and waste it, what are we supposed to do?” His words rallied the crowd instantly. “Exactly! We have to stick together to be safe.” “Let’s siphon the gas out of his tank. That way we have a better chance!” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “This is my car. Why the hell would I give you my gas?” Not only was it my car, but the other two vehicles technically belonged to me as well. One of the guys stepped up, his face red with anger. “We are trying to survive a crisis here! Why are you still obsessing over what belongs to who?” I rolled my eyes. “Both of your cars are packed full. If you take my SUV, where exactly am I supposed to sit? Are you giving up your seat for me?” The guy instantly shut his mouth. Frank tilted his head, acting as if a brilliant idea had just struck him. “Oliver, don’t you love driving convertibles? You can just sit on the roof! You’ll get all the fresh air you want.” The group eagerly latched onto the absurd cruelty of the idea. “Yeah, the roof is perfect! Doesn’t he love freedom? Let him feel the breeze.” “Don’t worry, we have cargo ropes in the trunk. We’ll strap you down tight so you don’t fall off.” “This is an extreme sport money can’t even buy. The great Mr. Sinclair will have a great story to brag about at his country club.” Valerie let out a heavy sigh. Just as I thought she was going to shut down this psychotic proposal, her next words plunged me into an ice bath. “You do love extreme sports. Your stamina is better than anyone else’s here. You’ll survive on the roof.” Having already lost all hope in her, I didn’t bother arguing. I stomped on the gas pedal. “He’s making a run for it! Grab him!” Frank shrieked. The entire group swarmed the vehicle. Someone yanked the driver’s door open, and multiple hands dragged me violently out of the cabin. I thrashed wildly, kicking and swinging to break their grip. “Ah!” Frank let out a sharp cry, clutching his chest and dropping into a crouch, his face contorted in agony. “Oliver, why did you kick me?” Valerie violently shoved me away and dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms. I froze for a second, my instinct to defend myself kicking in. “I didn’t even touch him.” Frank buried his face in Valerie’s shoulder, looking up at me with trembling fear. “Oliver, I’m sorry I got in your way. Please don’t hit me again. It hurts so much.” Hearing this, Valerie’s brow furrowed. She glared at me, her voice absolute ice. “Apologize to him!” “I didn’t do anything wrong! Why should I apologize?” The crowd immediately drowned me out. “You were thrashing around like a maniac, of course you hit him.” “Frank is too pure to lie about something like this. Apologize right now!” 4 Sweat beaded on Frank’s forehead, his breathing shallow and erratic. “Sand got into my wound.” He lifted his forearm, presenting a microscopic scratch to Valerie like it was a fatal injury. Valerie glared at me with pure venom. “Oliver Sinclair! Look at what you’ve done.” A mocking smile touched my lips. “If you waited five more minutes, that scratch would have healed completely.” Frank forced a weak, brave smile, his tone dripping with fake humility. “Oliver, you don’t have to apologize. But could I borrow your sun-proof jacket? I just need something to block the wind and the sand. My arm is burning.” The jacket I was wearing was woven from a proprietary, breathable material. My mother had commissioned a luxury designer to custom-make it for me. It blocked UV rays, repelled water, and cut the wind completely. You couldn’t buy it in stores. I rejected him without a second thought. “I’m highly allergic to UV exposure. Find something else.” Frank let out a pathetic, dramatic groan. “Never mind then. My life obviously isn’t worth as much as the young master’s delicate skin.” Valerie’s face turned to stone. “UV allergy? That’s just a pathetic excuse because you’re terrified of getting a tan.” “I am going to count to three. Take it off yourself.” “One. Two.” She didn’t even wait for three. Her patience vanished. She lunged forward, grabbed the collar of the jacket, and violently stripped it off my body. Underneath, I was only wearing a thin tank top. The moment my bare skin met the brutal, relentless sun, it began to flush an angry red. The stinging pain was immediate. Valerie gently draped the custom jacket over Frank’s shoulders, softly blowing the dust away from his microscopic scratch. Looking at them made my stomach churn with physical disgust. I turned on my heel and marched back toward the SUV. Just as my hand touched the door handle, Valerie grabbed my wrist. “It’s just a jacket! Why are you throwing another tantrum!” Those words were the spark that finally incinerated the last shred of my restraint. I swung my free hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. “I never throw tantrums. I just throw hands!” A bright red handprint instantly bloomed across her cheek. Frank shrieked. “Are you insane? You hit her!” Valerie pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, her expression darkening into something truly terrifying. “You make a mistake, and you refuse to repent. It seems you really need to be taught a lesson, Oliver.” My stomach dropped. A primal alarm bell rang in my head. “Since you refused to sit on the roof, you can stay behind the car.” My eyes widened in horror. “Valerie, you are completely psychotic!” Before I could run, two of the heaviest guys in the group tackled me to the dirt. They bound my wrists tightly with heavy nylon rope. They secured the other end to the SUV’s rear towing hook. “When you realize you’re wrong, we’ll untie you,” Valerie said coldly. With that final sentence, she climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine roared. The car lurched forward, yanking my arms tight. I had to sprint just to keep my footing. The SUV accelerated. My legs couldn’t keep up. I stumbled, hitting the asphalt hard, and the car continued to drag me. The rough, sun-baked gravel shredded my exposed skin. Hot blood began to stream down my arms and chest. Panic seized me completely. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop! Please, stop the car!” The muffled sound of laughter and upbeat pop music drifted back from the open windows. No one was listening. No one cared. The SUV swerved sharply to avoid a pothole. My body whipped sideways, and my head slammed brutally into a jagged rock. A blinding flash of white light exploded behind my eyes. Warm blood poured down my forehead, blinding me. True, unfiltered terror flooded my veins. Survival instinct overrode any lingering pride. “I’m sorry! I was wrong! Please!” I begged into the roaring wind. But the engine noise drowned out my pleas. The car showed zero signs of slowing down. I was actually going to die out here. My consciousness began to fracture. As the darkness crept in, I hallucinated the rhythmic thumping of helicopter rotors closing in on me. A woman’s voice cut through the chaos, frantic and furious. “Cut him loose right now!” Up ahead, thick black smoke began to pour from the hoods of the two lead vehicles. The convoy screeched to a halt. Someone inside yelled in panic. “We have a problem! The engine is dead!”

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Valentine’s Day rolled around again. Just like the past five years, my husband, Simon, wasn’t home to celebrate with me. He always claimed this day was the anniversary of his parents’ death and that he needed to be alone to mourn them. I had always been completely understanding of his devotion. Every year on this day, I would quietly stay home, too afraid to even send him a text in case it interrupted his grief. My best friend, Regan, always told me I was suffering in silence for nothing. She said I deserved better. But I would always jump to his defense, telling her how deeply he valued family and loyalty. The day after Valentine’s, I was tidying up the house and decided to take the black trench coat he wore yesterday to the dry cleaners. As I emptied the pockets, a crumpled receipt fell out. It was from a high-end French bistro. I picked it up. The date printed at the top was glaringly obvious. February 14th. It was a receipt for their Valentine’s Exclusive Tasting Menu for Two. It even included a complimentary bouquet of roses and signature cocktails. Seeing that piece of paper, my brain simply short-circuited. I don’t even know what possessed me, but my hands were shaking as I unlocked my phone and tapped on Regan’s Instagram story from last night. She had posted a picture of a candlelit dinner. The caption read, “Our special spot. Another year with you.” The location tagged at the top of the photo was that exact same French bistro. … The world blurred out of focus right in front of my eyes. I have no idea how I managed to walk back into the living room. The house felt just as suffocatingly cold as it had been yesterday. Memories of every past Valentine’s Day flashed through my mind like a twisted movie reel. The first year we were married, I had booked a romantic dinner weeks in advance. He had looked at me with such sorrow and said, “I’m so sorry, babe. Today is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I just need to go for a drive alone.” I had canceled the reservation immediately, drowning in guilt for being so insensitive. From then on, every February 14th, he went out alone. I never asked questions. I never complained. It turned out he wasn’t avoiding Valentine’s Day because of his parents. He just didn’t want to spend it with me. My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a text from Regan. “Audrey, did you spend last night all by yourself again? Sending you the biggest hug!” “Ugh, you spend it alone every single year. If you ask me, you shouldn’t let a man walk all over you like this.” “But then again, you always say Simon is just being a good son. You have a big heart.” I stared at the screen. Taking a shaky breath, I forced my trembling fingers to type a reply. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. I understand him. How was your night?” “Oh my god, my boyfriend took me to that French place! The one we walked past while shopping last time. Crazy coincidence, right?” “He’s been so sweet lately. He’s actually sitting right next to me while I get my nails done. After this, we’re going to a penthouse suite he booked downtown. It has these gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay. So romantic.” I read her messages line by line, my fingers shaking so violently I could barely hold the phone. Shortly after Simon and I got married, Regan told me she had started dating someone. But for five years, she kept him completely hidden. She never posted his face. She never brought him around. I used to wonder if her boyfriend was somehow unpresentable. It turned out I saw him every single day. I grabbed my coat, hailed a cab, and headed straight to the luxury nail salon at the Plaza, the one Regan frequented every week. The moment the elevator doors slid open on the third floor, my eyes locked onto the window seats. Regan was sitting in a plush velvet chair, extending her hand to the nail technician. My husband, Simon, was sitting right beside her. He was holding a cup of iced coffee, pushing the straw right up to her lips. Regan took a sip, frowned, and muttered something. Simon chuckled, picking up a cherry from a nearby fruit platter and gently feeding it to her instead. She smiled brightly, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. The way Simon looked down at her was filled with a tender, raw affection I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. I stood frozen by the elevators, rooted to the spot like a stone statue. My heart felt like it had been plunged into an ice bath, the pain so intense it morphed into total numbness. I pulled out my phone. Standing behind the frosted glass partition, I snapped over a dozen crystal-clear photos. Then, I turned around and stepped back into the elevator. As the metal doors slid shut, I leaned heavily against the wall. Fragments of the past rushed back to me. Back in college, he would run across the basketball court, flashing a huge, goofy grin in my direction every time he scored. After graduation, he got down on one knee, swearing he would make me the happiest woman alive. My father had always admired his ambition. Before my dad passed away, he slowly handed the reins of his entire company over to Simon. At my father’s funeral, Simon had held me tight, whispering into my hair, “Audrey, I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, and I’ll take care of the business.” Right now, my father’s life’s work was entirely in his hands. And the golden son-in-law my father had trusted so deeply was out feeding cherries to my best friend. I unlocked my phone and uploaded every single photo to a secure cloud drive. For the next week, I played the part of the blissfully ignorant wife perfectly. Simon must have sensed something was slightly off. He started acting far more attentive than usual, bringing home pastries from my favorite bakery after work. “Audrey, have I been neglecting you lately?” he asked one evening, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, his tone dripping with fake guilt. “Work has been crazy. And with the anniversary of my parents passing, my head has just been in a dark place. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” Using his dead parents as a shield again. A wave of pure nausea hit me. “It’s fine,” I replied softly. “You value family. You’re a good son. I understand.” The weather was beautiful the day Regan invited me out shopping. She linked her arm through mine, acting as chummy and sweet as if she hadn’t stolen a thing in the world. “Audrey, look at this dress! Isn’t it stunning?” She spun around in front of the boutique’s full-length mirror. The neckline was plunged low, perfectly framing the faint, reddish bruises scattered across her collarbone. “My boyfriend was way too passionate last night. I kept telling him to take it easy, but he just wouldn’t listen.” She smiled at her reflection, her voice laced with deliberate bragging. I looked at her through the mirror, suddenly remembering exactly how we met. When Regan first moved to this city, she was scammed out of her life savings. I was the one who took her in and let her crash in my guest room. Five years ago, her abusive ex put her in the hospital. I was the one who sat with her in the ER, helped her file the police report, and paid the deposit on her new apartment so she could hide. On the day Simon and I got married, she stood beside me as my maid of honor, crying so hard her mascara ran. She told me that having a friend like me was the greatest blessing of her life. And this was how she repaid me. “Audrey? What are you thinking about?” “Nothing.” She dragged me over to the jewelry counters, pointing at a pair of diamond wedding bands. “Say, if I just randomly announced I was getting married, would it completely shock you?” I heard my own voice reply, dead flat and eerily calm. “Marriage is a happy occasion. Why would that shock me?” She seemed a little disappointed by my lack of reaction. She awkwardly put the ring down and clung to my arm again. That night, when I got home, Simon was in the shower. His phone was sitting on the nightstand, plugged into the charger. Driven by a dark, magnetic pull, I picked it up. His text threads were scrubbed entirely clean. But he couldn’t erase his bank statements. For the past five years, there was a fixed monthly wire transfer. The memo read “Living Expenses.” The recipient was Regan. But it didn’t stop there. I dug deeper and found several massive, untraceable offshore transfers. Furthermore, I pulled up some of the company’s tax filing drafts from the last few quarters. The numbers were drastically different from the financial reports he had shown me at home. He was siphoning assets. Worse, he was committing corporate tax fraud. My fingers turned to ice, but my heart felt like it was roasting over an open flame. I thought his betrayal was limited to his heart and his body. I never imagined he was actively hollowing out the legacy my father built, brick by brick. A week later, a text from Regan popped up on my screen. “Audrey, I’m pregnant!” “My boyfriend is out of town on a business trip and I feel awful. You’ve been through this before, could you come keep me company?” I stared at those words, my stomach churning violently. During our third year of marriage, I had gotten pregnant. I was five months along. I could already feel the baby kicking against my ribs. Simon took me to my anatomy scan. On the ride home, the car was suffocatingly silent. When we walked through the front door, he handed me a lab report, his eyes red and brimming with tears. He held me tightly and choked out, “Audrey, the doctor said the baby’s development is severely compromised. Even if he survives the birth, he’ll be in agonizing pain his whole life. We’re still young. We can try again.” I had cried until my throat bled. I didn’t want to believe it. But he acted even more devastated than I was. He blamed himself, weeping into his hands, saying he had failed to protect me and our child. Eventually, under his relentless, tearful persuasion, I lay down on the operating table. Right before the anesthesia pulled me under, I felt one last, gentle flutter in my stomach. When I woke up, I was left with an empty womb and an endless, crushing void of grief. Regan was right by my side through all of it. She held my hand, crying with me, cursing the universe for being so cruel, promising me that I would be a mother someday. Now, staring at the word “pregnant” on my screen, a horrifying, sickening realization struck me. If they had been sleeping together for five years, there was absolutely no way they would have allowed me to give birth to the heir of my father’s company. I bolted upright, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out the door. I dug up my old hospital patient ID and drove straight to the maternity ward I visited three years ago. I waited for three agonizing hours until a nurse finally emerged from the medical records basement with a yellowing file. “Audrey Caldwell, right? Found it.” I flipped it open. The ink was perfectly clear. Fetus developing normally. No anomalies detected. I stared at those words, my hands shaking so violently the paper rattled. “Nurse… is this the exact same report that was given to me back then?” I heard my own voice ask. It sounded shredded, alien. The nurse glanced at it. “This is the original medical file. What you received back then would have been a photocopy. Is something wrong?” I shook my head, silently taking crystal-clear photos of every single page. By the time I walked out of the hospital, the sun had set. I crouched by the curb and dry-heaved until my ribs ached, but nothing came up. My baby. My baby who had already started kicking me. The baby I let them kill. I sat in my car, zipped all the photos, bank statements, and hospital records into a single encrypted folder, and emailed it straight to my corporate lawyer. Then, I put the car in drive and headed straight for the company headquarters. Simon. Regan. I hope you’re ready to pay the price.

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1 I spent two grueling months on an overseas business trip, moving mountains to secure a massive partnership that would save my girlfriend’s company from bankruptcy. When I finally landed, exhausted but thrilled, I called her to share the good news. She told me not to bother showing up to the celebration gala. “You need to let Felix take the credit for this.” “He’s new to the company and needs to build authority before I promote him to General Manager. He needs this win more than you do.” Her tone was so casual, so completely entitled, that I literally couldn’t believe my ears. It wasn’t until the fire alarms violently blared at the gala, right as I reached out to grab Christine’s hand to guide her to safety, that the truth really sank in. She completely bypassed me, grabbing Felix’s hand instead, and sprinted toward the emergency exit without a single backward glance. At that exact moment, my heart turned to ash. I turned around and silently accepted the olive branch from her biggest corporate rival. … “Victor, are you out of your mind? You seriously came to ruin Felix’s night? Why couldn’t you just stay home? What is your problem!” Christine was furious when she saw me at the venue. She grabbed my arm and dragged me into a deserted corner of the banquet hall. “Can you just drop it? If you hadn’t stubbornly hoarded the project I specifically assigned to Felix, the company would have recovered months ago. Why did you have to drag it out!” I stared at her, letting out a cold, bitter laugh. “I busted my ass negotiating this deal. I was just about to sign the final contract, and you want Felix to just waltz in and take the credit? On what grounds?” “The kid doesn’t even know the difference between the printer and the paper shredder in his own office. What makes you think he can handle a project of this magnitude?” For the past two months, I had practically killed myself for Christine’s company. I hadn’t slept a full night in weeks. I was drowning in endless meetings, staying up until dawn writing proposals, and practically begging investors for capital. I poured my literal blood, sweat, and tears into landing this multi-million dollar contract. Footsteps approached. Felix strolled over with a glass of red wine in his hand, a painfully fake, apologetic smile plastered across his face. “Victor, thank you so much for handling the overseas grunt work for me.” “Don’t worry, I’ll take over hosting the executives and finalizing the paperwork. You can finally rest.” Before I could even open my mouth, Christine chimed in with a sneer. “Why are you being so polite to him? He’s completely rigid and unimaginative. You have way more vision than he does, so obviously you’ll manage this project better.” Felix sighed softly. “Please don’t be mad at Christine, Victor. She’s just worried about my lack of experience.” “I’m getting promoted to General Manager soon, and I really need a flagship project to prove myself.” Christine looked at him, her eyes practically melting with affection. “Felix, why are you apologizing to him? Paving the way for your success is his privilege!” “Please don’t say that, Christine. You’ll upset him,” Felix replied weakly, playing the role of the innocent peacemaker to perfection. But the moment Christine looked away, he shot me a smug, incredibly punchy smirk. My chest felt suffocatingly tight. A wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. While I was halfway across the world sacrificing my health to keep her business afloat, she hadn’t bothered to call me once. Not a single text to ask if I was okay. Felix had just graduated college, yet Christine instantly made him her personal executive assistant. And now, the moment I returned, she was pushing him into the General Manager seat. He had only been at the company for three months! “It’s time for the opening speech. Ignore him, let’s go.” Up on the stage, Christine cheerfully popped a bottle of champagne. Felix pulled her into his arms, intimately brushing a stray drop of liquor from her bangs. The surrounding colleagues whispered with unmistakable envy. “No way. Did the new manager just kiss the CEO?” “So they really are dating? I thought the kid was just bragging.” “Obviously they are. Look at the way she stares at him. She’s completely hooked.” Listening to the office gossip, I thought about the four years Christine and I had been together. She absolutely refused to make our relationship public. She claimed office romances created a toxic environment, insisting that as the boss, she had to set a professional standard. She never let me ride in her car. Yet she personally chauffeured Felix to and from work every single day. She demanded we pretend to be distant colleagues during business hours. Yet she allowed Felix to take naps in the private bedroom attached to her office. If Felix so much as sneezed during a board meeting, she would instantly pause the presentation and escort him out to rest. We had explosive fights over this exact double standard. “You have a filthy mind, Victor! You see dirt wherever you look!” “Why are you so insecure? Felix is just like a little brother to me. You’re a grown man in his thirties, why are you picking fights with a kid!” Christine always resorted to the silent treatment, and I was always the one who surrendered, apologizing just to keep the peace. If this were the old me, I would have stormed the stage and knocked Felix’s teeth down his throat. But tonight, I was just completely drained. Before I could even turn to leave, a piercing fire alarm suddenly shattered the atmosphere. 2 Thick, black smoke billowed from the back of the hall, rapidly swallowing the ceiling. Panic erupted. The crowd devolved into a screaming, shoving stampede. Instinct took over. I lunged forward, desperately reaching out for Christine. “Christine, stay behind me! I’ll get you out!” Before my hand could even brush hers, a violent force slammed into my back. Someone intentionally shoved me hard into the chaotic crowd. Caught entirely off guard, I crashed face-first onto the hard marble floor. A sickening crunch echoed through the noise. White-hot agony flared in my ankle. Seconds later, a heavy boot viciously stomped down on my calf. The force was entirely deliberate, calculated to shatter bone. Cold sweat instantly drenched my clothes. I lost all sensation in the lower half of my body. Through the suffocating smoke and trampling feet, I caught a glimpse of Felix. His eyes were narrowed into dark, malicious slits, a sadistic smirk twisting the corners of his mouth. Then, his expression completely morphed. “Christine, my chest hurts so much! I can’t breathe… I can’t walk… please, you need to help Victor get up…” Felix began to violently tremble, forcing out a pained gasp as he leaned heavily against the wall. “Felix, what’s wrong? You’re terrifying me!” Seeing him collapse, Christine forcefully slapped my reaching hand away. She threw her arms around Felix, her voice cracking with sheer panic. “Is it another panic attack? Look at me, can you hold on?” Blood rushed to my head. “He’s faking it! How can you not see through such a pathetic act?” “Victor, you are unbelievable! You’re seriously jealous right now? People are fighting for their lives!” Seeing Felix grow seemingly paler by the second, Christine’s eyes filled with frantic tears. “Felix is having a medical emergency. I’m getting him out of here right now!” Her words literally froze the blood in my veins. “I think my leg is broken. I can’t stand up. You’re leaving me here to die for him?” “I already called emergency services. The firefighters will be here any second.” Christine grabbed Felix’s arm, completely abandoning me, and rushed toward the illuminated exit sign. “You’re not going to die waiting a few minutes. Just stay where you are!” The acrid smoke ruthlessly choked the air out of the room. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. Combined with my severe sleep deprivation from the business trip, my vision began to rapidly blur. I used the absolute last ounce of my strength to plead with her. “Please. I’m begging you. Don’t leave me.” As they brushed past me, Christine didn’t even spare me a single glance. That was the moment I finally understood. I occupied absolutely zero space in her heart. That was the moment my love for her permanently died. When I finally regained consciousness, my right leg was encased in a heavy plaster cast, elevated at the end of a hospital bed. “Victor, you’re awake! Do you need a doctor?” Harper, a colleague from the marketing department, hovered over me with genuine concern. I had passed out from severe smoke inhalation. Harper explained that she found me unconscious on the floor and physically dragged me out of the burning building. I thanked her softly, promising to treat her to a nice dinner once I was discharged. The local news was playing on the small TV in the corner. The fire was caused by a catastrophic grease fire in the kitchen. Thankfully, there were no fatal casualties. Once Harper left the room, I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Harrison. I’ve thought it over, and I’d like to accept your offer. I’m ready to join your firm next week.” A boisterous laugh boomed through the speaker. “Victor! You finally came to your senses! A man needs to prioritize his empire. I promise you’ll get the absolute best compensation package our overseas branch has to offer. But what about your fiancée? You said you couldn’t bear to leave her behind…” “It doesn’t matter anymore. That part of my life is over,” I replied blankly. Mr. Harrison was sharp enough not to pry. A few minutes later, the digital employment contract landed in my inbox. The moment I signed my name, I mindlessly opened my social media feed. The first post was a brand new update from Felix. “Feeling under the weather, but my favorite person made me hot soup. Feeling completely spoiled and loved.” The attached photo was taken from behind. It showed Christine wearing a cute apron, diligently stirring a pot on the stove. This time, I didn’t feel a trace of anger. I just tapped the like button. In our four years together, Christine had never once cooked a meal for me. When I was bedridden with a severe fever, she couldn’t even be bothered to order me a delivery meal. I always justified it by telling myself she simply didn’t know her way around a kitchen. I remembered one scorching summer day, feeling incredibly bad for how stressed she was at work. I woke up at dawn, bought the freshest ingredients from the market, and spent hours cooking her a meticulously balanced lunch. Sweating profusely under the blinding sun, I proudly delivered the food to her office. Instead of gratitude, I walked in to find her aggressively flirting with Felix. “Christine, I really want hot pot for lunch today.” “Patience, little boy. I’ll take you out in a minute.” She laughed, playfully tracing the outline of his abs through his shirt. But the second she noticed me standing in the doorway, her smile vanished into a dark scowl. “Victor, I specifically told you not to bother me during business hours unless it’s an absolute emergency!” Sensing the tension, Felix casually walked over and slung an arm over my shoulder. “Want to come with us, Victor? Too bad we only made a reservation for two.” I just let out a cold laugh, set the lunchbox on her desk, and walked out. Later that evening, I found out they took the chicken soup I spent hours brewing and dumped it in the alley to feed the stray cats. The morning after my hospital admission, the attending doctor informed me I could be discharged the following day. My phone suddenly buzzed violently on the nightstand. It was Christine. “Victor, where the hell are you playing hide and seek?” “We are officially signing the contract today. Why aren’t you at the office backing Felix up? Stop throwing a tantrum!” I answered completely truthfully. “I’m in the hospital. I barely survived that fire.” Christine scoffed loudly through the speaker. “How long are you going to keep up this pathetic act? The firefighters arrived immediately. You are perfectly fine.” “I already called around. The emergency responders didn’t see you, and the staff said you walked out of the building on your own.” “Yesterday you fake a broken leg, today you fake a hospital stay. Felix is generous enough to forgive your jealousy, so I’m giving you exactly ten minutes to drag yourself back to the office.” I slowly peeled a tangerine my hospital roommate had given me. “Felix is such a charismatic prodigy, isn’t he? You trust him enough to hand him my project, so I’m sure he can handle a simple signature.” “The foreign investors specifically requested you to be present! You need to get here right now! If you ruin this deal, don’t bother coming back to work ever again!” I popped a slice of the tangerine into my mouth. “As you wish. Consider this my official resignation.” 3 Ignoring Christine’s furious screaming on the other end, I calmly hung up the phone. After my discharge, I took a cab straight to the apartment. I systematically packed up my life. Standing at the doorway with my suitcase, I took one final look at the place I had called home for four years. Christine and I grew up together. We were childhood sweethearts. Our parents had even jokingly arranged our marriage when we were toddlers. Everything changed when her father passed away in a sudden accident. Her extended family circled like vultures, eagerly waiting to carve up the company and steal her inheritance. She called me every single night, crying hysterically, terrified she was going to lose everything her father built. So the second I graduated, I sacrificed my own career plans and joined Mercer Enterprises to protect her. Those were the golden days of our romance. She used to write me passionate love letters on pink stationary, fearlessly declaring her devotion. She meticulously documented our dates, crafting beautiful scrapbooks filled with movie tickets and polaroids. We took pottery classes together, proudly displaying our slightly lopsided mugs on the living room shelf as symbols of our future. The shift happened two years ago. The company launched a charity initiative, and Christine ended up sponsoring a struggling college student. Felix. From that moment on, the warmth in our relationship rapidly evaporated. When I tried to communicate my frustrations, she ruthlessly shut me down. She complained that I worked too much, that I was boring, that I acted like a joyless old man. But back then, her company was still surrounded by corporate sharks. I couldn’t afford to take a single day off if I wanted to keep her safe. Then came the nights she simply didn’t come home. Felix took her to underground clubs to dance until dawn. He took her riding on his motorcycle at terrifying speeds through the mountain passes. They camped under the stars, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Three months ago, Christine officially hired him as her personal assistant, showering him with inappropriate perks. Whenever I was exhausted and just wanted to hold her, she would physically shove me away, yet she happily offered to massage Felix’s shoulders when he complained about typing. I once asked if we could adopt a puppy to build a life together. She aggressively refused, calling it a filthy burden. A week later, she and Felix joyfully sponsored an entire shelter of stray animals. She completely “forgot” our anniversary this year, but spent weeks planning a wildly expensive, romantic surprise party for Felix’s birthday. Thinking back on it all, I couldn’t help but laugh at my own stupidity. I pulled out my phone and booked the earliest flight back to my hometown. I planned to spend a week with my parents before flying overseas to start my new life. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Christine. “My mom wants to see you. She misses you and wants you to come over for dinner tonight.” “And remember, keep your mouth shut. Don’t even think about running to her with your pathetic little complaints.” I agreed to go. Eleanor, Christine’s mother, had always treated me like her own son. It was the perfect opportunity to officially end the engagement face-to-face. I arrived early and helped Eleanor in the kitchen, chatting easily as we prepped the vegetables. I was just trying to find the right moment to break the news when the front doorbell chimed. Christine walked in. And trailing right behind her, acting entirely at home, was Felix. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. “Mom, this is my friend Felix. He just got off work, so I brought him over for a bite,” Christine announced. She shot me a disgustingly hostile glare, then marched into the living room without another word. I didn’t even acknowledge her existence. Desperate to score points with the matriarch, Felix bounded into the kitchen, loudly offering his assistance. Eleanor ignored him, raising her voice to scold her daughter in the other room. “Why are you giving Victor attitude the second you walk through the door? Did you two fight again? He just got back from a brutal business trip. You should be taking care of him! He’s been working himself to the bone for our family!” “And what about the engagement banquet next week? Have you finalized the guest list and the catering? We absolutely cannot delay it again.” The banquet was originally supposed to fall on our four-year anniversary, but Christine abandoned the planning midway through because she was too busy organizing Felix’s birthday bash. I pressed my lips together, quietly grateful we never actually sent out the invitations. When dinner was finally ready, I prepared to step out and drop the bomb. Suddenly, Felix blocked my path. His face twisted into a vicious, unrecognizable sneer. “Don’t get cocky, Victor. She is never going to marry you. The one who isn’t loved is the actual homewrecker here!” Before I could process his words, he grabbed a heavy ceramic bowl filled with boiling hot soup and ruthlessly dumped it entirely over his own head. “I only have Christine! No one is going to take her away from me! Let’s see whose side she takes when she sees what you just did to me!” The heavy bowl hit the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces with a deafening crash. The noise instantly brought the women running. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms, a cold smile playing on my lips. I didn’t even try to defend myself. “Felix! Oh my god, what happened!” Christine charged into the kitchen in a blind panic. She violently shoved me out of the way, her hands frantically hovering over the red, blistering burns forming on Felix’s forehead. “Victor said I was garbage… he said I didn’t deserve to be here… and he said he’d beat me every time he saw my face…” Felix sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he trembled violently. Christine turned to me, her eyes practically blazing with homicidal rage. She pointed a shaking finger right at my nose. “Are you completely psychotic? Did you come here specifically to torture him? What did he ever do to you! Get on your knees and apologize to him right now, or I swear to God I will never forgive you!” Eleanor rushed forward, desperately trying to deescalate the situation, yanking on Christine’s sleeve to make her stop shouting. I just laughed. I looked directly at Felix, who was still weeping crocodile tears. “You can keep the project. And you can keep Christine. I don’t want either of them anymore.” Christine froze. The rage slowly drained from her face, replaced by total disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?” She quickly regained her haughty composure, crossing her arms. “I’m warning you, Victor. If you keep pushing this tantrum, there will be no going back.” “Take a good look in the mirror. Who else is going to want a useless freeloader like you? If you have any dignity left, you have exactly sixty seconds to apologize and take it back.” When I graduated, I turned down massive offers from elite tech firms and gave up a brilliant future to be her loyal servant. And this was my reward. I had spent four years nurturing a viper. “It means exactly what I said. We are broken up.” “You two truly deserve each other.” I turned to Eleanor, pulling a sleek black audio recorder from my pocket and pressing it gently into her hands. “Eleanor, please cancel the banquet. I won’t be staying for dinner tonight. Thank you for everything.”

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The holiday weekend was officially over, and I was driving my family back to the city. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing in the cup holder. Kitty, sitting in the passenger seat, finally glanced over and asked what was going on. I put it on speaker. The panicked, breathless voice of my childhood best friend filled the car. He told me my parents, my wife, and my daughter had all been slaughtered in our home. He said the scene was a slaughterhouse. Most of their organs were gone, and Kitty… Kitty had been decapitated. I chuckled, thinking it was a sick joke, and told him to lay off the booze. After all, my family was sitting right here in the car with me, alive and well. A second later, a video popped up on my screen. It showed my parents and my little girl lying in a massive pool of blood. And right there on the floor was Kitty. Her limbs were severed, her head nowhere to be found. A bucket of ice water washed over my spine. My hands violently jerked the steering wheel, forcing the SUV onto the emergency shoulder. 1 “Ahhh!” The grotesque, mangled image of that severed head flashed behind my eyes. I screamed, violently shoving Kitty away as she leaned in to check the screen. “Don’t come near me!” I roared. The shove sent her crashing against the passenger window. Her hair fell wildly over her face as she whipped around, her eyes blazing with fury. “Harry, have you lost your damn mind? Did you just put your hands on me?” Before her words even settled, a heavy smack landed on the back of my head. My mom leaned forward from the backseat, her face tight with anger. “Exactly, Harry! What the hell is wrong with you? Is this how we raised you? You never, ever lay a hand on your wife. Now speak. What kind of psychotic break are you having?” I couldn’t hear them. My brain was trapped in the loop of that video. Crimson blood dripping down the familiar oak staircase. Mom and Dad’s lifeless bodies sprawled across the steps, soaking in their own gore. My little Anna, a hunting knife buried in her chest, lying right in front of them. And Kitty. Unrecognizable. Her head severed from her body, tossed somewhere out of frame. Impossible. I refused to believe it. It had to be a deepfake. A sick, twisted prank. They were right here in the car, breathing, yelling at me. How could they be butchered on a staircase? I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the suffocating panic, and forced them open again. The horrific video was still playing on my screen. Joshua sent another clip. This one was outside my house. Dozens of cops in shoe covers and latex gloves were swarming the lawn. His voice notes kept playing automatically. [Where are you, man? You need to get back here. It’s a freaking nightmare. There’s blood everywhere.] [They can’t even find Kitty’s head.] [Who the hell did you cross, Harry? Whoever it was, they didn’t plan on leaving anyone breathing.] Before I could even process the words, another message chimed in a minute later. [No, wait. Don’t come back. Whoever did this wants your whole bloodline wiped out. If you come back, you’re a dead man. Run, Harry. Drive as far away as you can and never look back.] 2 I leaned against the side of the car, sucking hard on a cigarette. My mind was a chaotic mess of static. My legs felt like wet cement. Anna rolled down the back window, her sweet, high-pitched voice piercing the cold wind. “Daddy, why aren’t we moving?” My mom stared at me with deep concern. “Harry, what is going on? Who was on the phone? You’re acting like a lunatic.” I looked at them. They were so vibrant, so incredibly alive. Then my mind flashed back to the blood-soaked corpses on my screen. I grabbed my phone, ready to dial 911. It had to be fake. Joshua was losing his mind. We grew up together, but over the years, my tech firm took off while he drowned in gambling debts. He was broke. His wife took the kids and left him. Just before the holidays, he begged me for fifty grand. I said no. He was probably doing this to punish me. Using some cheap AI generator to mess with my head. But right as my thumb hovered over the keypad, an incoming call took over the screen. It was the local police precinct. “Is this Harry?” a gravelly voice asked. “I’m incredibly sorry to inform you, but we’ve found the bodies of your parents, your wife, and your daughter at your residence. We need you to return immediately for questioning.” I stood frozen, gripping the phone, unable to force a single syllable past my throat. Joshua might play a twisted joke, but the police wouldn’t. Were my family members actually dead? Then who were the people sitting inside my car? Pure, unadulterated terror hijacked my brain. Before I could spiral further, Kitty slammed her door open and marched up to me. “Harry, you were driving perfectly fine. Why are you having a meltdown? Talk to me right now.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You’re dead. You’re all dead… There was so much blood.” “You son of a…” Kitty slapped me across the cheek, her face flushed with rage. “The holidays literally just ended and you’re wishing death on me? I am standing right in front of you, breathing, and you’re telling me I’m dead?” My mom got out next, smacking the back of my head again. “Stop spouting this nonsense!” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m not making it up! Mom, Joshua sent me a video. He said Kitty is dead. He said you, Dad, and Anna are dead too. I swear to God…” This time, it was my dad. He shoved me so hard I stumbled back into the guardrail. “Are you hallucinating? So our whole family gets wiped out, and you’re the sole survivor? Is that the fantasy here?” “Yes!” I clutched my stomach, nodding desperately. I reached out to grab them, to drag them to the screen so they could see it for themselves. But Kitty had already stormed over to the driver’s seat. “Mom, Dad, get in. We’re leaving. Let the ‘sole survivor’ freeze out here until he gets his head screwed on straight.” Before I could utter another word, Kitty slammed the door, gunned the engine, and merged back onto the highway. Leaving me completely alone in the biting winter wind. 3 My phone rang again. It was the precinct, demanding my location. “Can you get back here immediately? If not, stay exactly where you are. We are sending a cruiser to get you.” Ten minutes later, flashing red and blue lights cut through the bleak afternoon. Detective Carter stepped out of the cruiser. His eyes were like a hawk’s, scanning me, dissecting me. “My condolences. Right now, our priority is finding the bastard who did this. I need your full cooperation.” I grabbed his heavy winter coat, desperate. “Detective, this is a prank, right? Tell me this is some kind of sick joke! My parents, my wife, my kid, they were just here. We were in the same damn car. They can’t be dead. It’s impossible.” Carter’s expression remained carved from stone. “I know trauma does strange things to the mind, but the reality is what it is. Pull yourself together and get in the car.” I practically begged him. “Check the traffic cameras! I swear to you, I’m not lying. How else would I end up stranded on the shoulder of the interstate?” Carter didn’t waste another breath on me. He grabbed my arm and shoved me into the back of the cruiser. The sirens wailed as we sped down the highway. Suddenly, I saw Kitty’s SUV up ahead in the right lane. I slammed my hands against the wire mesh separating the seats. “There! Look! That’s my car! My whole family is in there. Pull them over! I swear to God, they are alive!” Carter glanced out the window, then glared at me through the rearview mirror. “Stop making a scene. This is an interstate. I can’t just run a random vehicle off the road.” The cruiser blew right past Kitty’s SUV. No matter how raw my throat got from screaming, they completely ignored me. “Call her!” I pleaded. “Call my wife. She’s alive.” Visibly annoyed, Carter pulled out his phone. “Give me the number.” I rattled off the digits. He put it on speaker. It rang and rang, straight to voicemail. Of course. She was driving. She hated highway driving, it terrified her. She was already furious at me, she wouldn’t answer an unknown number right now. “She’s driving,” I said quickly. “Call my mom.” Carter dialed my mom’s number. Voicemail again. Panic clawing at my chest, I pulled out my own phone and called my dad. Nothing. Just endless ringing. Carter ended the call and turned slightly, shooting me a look usually reserved for serial killers. “Anything else you want to add?” 4 What else could I say? I had been screaming that my family was alive, but to them, I was just a madman. We drove in agonizing silence until we reached my hometown. When we turned onto my street, my heart plummeted into my stomach. The entire block was barricaded with yellow crime scene tape. Neighbors clustered in tight groups, whispering. Flashing lights painted the suburban houses in a sickening neon glow. This wasn’t a prank. Joshua didn’t have the money or the brains to stage something this massive. Carter opened the door and hauled me out. “Let’s go. Take a look.” He treated me like a suspect being walked to the gallows. It made my skin crawl. I planted my feet and refused to move. Desperate, I dialed my mom’s number one last time. Before it even connected, my phone buzzed. It was her. I answered it so fast I almost dropped the device. “Mom! Where are you?” “We pulled over at the rest stop to wait for you. Did you honestly think we’d just abandon you on the highway? But seriously, Harry, what is wrong with you today?” Tears blurred my vision. I shoved the phone toward Carter. “Listen! Detective, listen to her! It’s my mom!” Carter narrowed his eyes and took the phone, hitting the speaker button. But the line was completely dead. Silence. Before I could comprehend what just happened, Joshua broke through the police line and sprinted toward me. His eyes were swollen red, his whole body violently shaking. “I told you not to come back! Why are you here? You’re going to get yourself killed!” Carter stepped between us, his gaze locking onto Joshua. “What exactly do you mean by that? Sounds like you know something we don’t.” Joshua threw his hands up defensively. “I don’t know anything, Detective! I swear! I’m just terrified that Harry crossed the wrong people and they came for payback.” “What makes you say that?” Carter pressed. “It’s just a guess,” Joshua stammered. “Harry made a ton of money recently. You don’t get that rich without stepping on a few toes. Right, Harry?” 5 I ignored his passive aggressive bullshit. I pushed past them and walked toward my front door. The whispers from the crowd hit my ears like poison darts. “Look at him. All that money, and for what? His whole family is wiped out.” “Exactly. Coming back for the holidays, acting like a big shot. Promising to fund the new community center, fix the roads. I knew his money was dirty.” “Yeah, probably trying to buy some good karma because of the shady crap he does.” I tuned them out. My chest was tight, my lungs burning. As I approached the porch, the metallic stench of blood hit me like a physical blow. It was so potent my stomach violently heaved. Carter was right behind me. He whispered darkly, “Scared?” Of course I was scared. The video was seared into my brain. But a stubborn part of me still believed the family I left on the highway was real. They couldn’t be inside this house. But reality shattered my delusions the second I stepped into the foyer. It was exactly like the video. Blood had seeped into the hardwood, drying into dark, sticky pools. The air tasted like pennies and terror. My parents were lying on the staircase. They were locked in a desperate embrace, their faces frozen in absolute horror. And their abdomens… they were hollowed out. Jagged, empty cavities where their organs used to be. My knees gave out. I crashed onto the floor, screaming until my vocal cords tore. “Mom! Dad! What did they do to you?” They couldn’t answer. And then I saw her. Little Anna. Her tiny body was crumpled on the rug. One of her eyes was just a dark, empty socket. A heavy hunting knife was buried to the hilt in her chest. The silver blade caught the harsh police lights, reflecting Carter’s predatory face standing just over my shoulder. He didn’t speak. He just waited. My skin turned to ice. “Harry,” he finally said. “Are you sure you don’t have anything to confess?” Confess what? I spun around and grabbed his coat again. “They aren’t dead! Detective, please! Check the highway toll cameras. We left this morning, all of us together. They are sitting at a rest stop right now. Look at the cameras, you’ll see them! I’m begging you!” Carter’s face darkened. He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out of the house, pulling me toward the detached garage. “You’re still lying,” Carter growled. “Open your damn eyes, Harry. Look at what’s in the driveway.” 6 My brain short-circuited. I blinked hard, trying to clear the illusion. My SUV. The exact same car I had been driving on the highway two hours ago, was sitting right there in the garage. If my car was here, what the hell was Kitty driving on the interstate? Who was inside that vehicle? Carter called Joshua over. “Harry, why are you lying to the cops?” Joshua asked, his voice shaking. “I saw you leave alone this morning. I asked you where everyone was, and you said they wanted to stay a few extra days to enjoy the country air. But ten minutes after you left, I smelled the blood.” Joshua took a step back, looking at me like I was a monster. “Harry… did you…” “Shut the hell up!” I roared, lunging at him before a cop held me back. “That’s my family! What is wrong with you?” Joshua muttered, “You’re the only one left breathing. The math doesn’t add up.” I knew nothing added up. But my truth was entirely different from theirs. Carter dragged me back into the living room. He pointed to a plastic evidence tent in the corner. Beneath it lay Kitty’s severed head. It was a nightmare made flesh. I turned my face away, gagging. But Carter grabbed my jaw and forced me to look. “Open your eyes, Harry. Your family is butchered. Their bodies were harvested. And you’re acting like a man who already knows the script. How are you so calm?” “I’m not calm!” I screamed. “I know these bodies aren’t my family! My real family is in my car, and in a few hours, they’ll be back at our house in the city. Call the city precinct. Send a unit to my house. You’ll see I’m telling the truth!” Carter had had enough. With a sharp click, cold steel clamped around my wrists. He shoved me down so I was eye-level with the tarp. “We know you were a foster kid. We know her parents took you in, and you ended up marrying their daughter to secure your place in this family. So drop the act and tell me why you slaughtered them.” What the hell was he talking about? Why would being an adopted kid mean I’d butcher the people who loved me? And my daughter? Why would I kill my own flesh and blood? I was suffocating under the weight of the accusations. I wanted to grab the knife from the floor and plunge it into my own chest just to prove my innocence. But then, my eyes locked onto Kitty’s ear. A delicate, golden charm dangled from her lobe. A vintage, custom-made lamb. The air left my lungs. I understood. I finally understood everything.

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1 The system chime echoed for the third time in my mind as I stood in the center of the Prescott family’s luxurious living room. They were going to brainwash me again. This would be the ninth time. My three brothers brought out a glass jar filled with wooden lots, forcing me to draw a new identity. I had three choices: the fake heiress, the maid’s daughter, or the charity case. My oldest brother, Liam, let his face darken first. He warned me to stop having delusional dreams of taking Vivian’s place. My second brother, Silas, furrowed his brows and coldly reminded me that Vivian had a severe heart condition and needed the family’s undivided attention. Then there was Asher. He wore a face identical to mine, yet it was twisted in pure disgust. He sneered and declared that he only recognized Vivian as his sister. I stood frozen in place. My heart had gone completely numb a long time ago. Suddenly, the System broke its silence. It told me the capture mission was officially canceled. It advised me to just pick a way to die and leave this wretched world. A genuine smile crept onto my lips. I could finally go home. But what I didn’t expect was that after my death, those three heartless brothers would actually shed tears. … My original mission was painfully simple: win the affection of my brothers and be acknowledged as the true biological heiress of the Prescott family. Yet in the five years since I returned to this house, I had been subjected to memory altering hypnosis eight times. I had been a maid, a nanny, a poor relative begging for scraps, and an orphan taken in by the butler. The only thing I was never allowed to be was the actual daughter of the Prescott family. Every single time Vivian squeezed out a few pathetic tears, my three brothers would choose her without a second thought. They were absolutely certain that as long as they erased my memory of being the true heiress, I would never dare to compete with Vivian for their love. With every hypnosis session, the System had to burn massive amounts of energy to forcibly awaken my true consciousness. But the dosage of the mind altering drugs increased every time, and the duration of my memory loss grew longer and longer. It wasn’t until the eighth time, after I had worked as a lowly servant in my own home for three entire years, that the System finally managed to drag me back to reality. I had had enough. The System was at its breaking point too. It canceled the mission and offered me a ticket home. Wild joy erupted in my chest. My eyes frantically darted around the room, searching for any sharp object that could grant me sweet release. Seeing my shifting gaze, my twin brother Asher instantly pulled a long face. “Don’t even think about trying any of your dirty tricks. We will strap you to that chair today even if we have to tie you down!” As he spoke, he casually pulled a wooden slip from the jar. The words “Fake Heiress” were glaringly etched into the wood. Asher let out a cruel scoff and threw the wooden slip right at my face. The sharp edge sliced across my cheek, leaving a stinging trail of blood. “Well, look at that. You got lucky.” “We are actually letting you play the role of the Prescott heiress this time.” He turned his head to look at Liam, Silas, and Vivian, carelessly proposing a sick wager. “Care to make a bet? The dosage is ten times stronger this round. How long do you think it will take for her to remember?” “I’ll go first. The last round lasted three years. I bet she stays under for five years this time.” Silas leaned back against the leather sofa and spoke in a chillingly flat tone. “Eight years.” Liam tapped his fingers rhythmically against the mahogany table, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Ten years.” Vivian walked over and affectionately clung to Asher’s arm. She shot me a smug, triumphant look before pouting her lips in a sickeningly sweet manner. “Asher, I think it will take her twenty years.” Asher affectionately ruffled her hair and smiled. “Alright, my little princess. I will have the doctor increase the dose by another ten times. I definitely won’t let you lose your bet.” These scenes used to pierce right through my soul, but looking at them now, I felt nothing but absolute tranquility. I calmly bent down and picked up the bloodstained wooden slip from the floor, my voice coming out in a soft whisper. “No. This time, it will last a lifetime.” After all, dead people never remember anything, do they? The next second, under their shocked and horrified gazes. I gripped the wooden slip tightly and plunged it brutally into the carotid artery of my own neck! 2 Blood sprayed out in a violent arc, splashing directly onto Vivian’s face. A piercing scream tore from her throat. Right before I lost consciousness. I saw Vivian shrieking in terror, Silas bolting up from the sofa, and Liam’s face draining of all color. And Asher was just standing there completely paralyzed, clutching his own neck in horror as he stared at me. I forgot. We were twins. We shared a telepathic pain connection. When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed with thick layers of bandages wrapped tightly around my neck. I actually didn’t die? The slightest movement sent a dull, tearing agony radiating from my throat. [Host, detecting extreme pain levels. Would you like me to activate the pain blocker?] [Yes, please!] The pain vanished instantly. My entire body relaxed into comfort. It was only then that I noticed a vicious glare pinning me down, looking as if it wanted to flay me alive and rip my bones apart. I turned my head and met Asher’s face, which was black with rage. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” He violently grabbed the collar of my hospital gown and dragged me straight into the adjacent room. He pointed at Vivian, who was lying pale and fragile on the bed, and fiercely demanded answers. “You know her heart is weak! You deliberately triggered an episode! Did you think that if she died, you could just waltz in and become the true heiress?” “Keep dreaming! Let me make this crystal clear. We will never acknowledge a venomous snake like you as our sister!” I tried pulling my collar out of his grip but failed. I had no choice but to maintain the awkward posture and speak to him with absolute sincerity. “I didn’t try to harm her. I genuinely just want to die.” Asher acted like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. He leaned in close, his eyes brimming with mockery. “Want to die? Sienna, cut the pathetic act!” “Did you think faking a suicide attempt would get you out of the hypnosis? You are going to be the fake heiress, and that is final! I will never let you threaten Vivian’s place in our family!” He then glanced at the bandages wrapped around my neck and spoke in a deeply sarcastic tone. “If you really wanted to die, you wouldn’t have used a flimsy piece of wood to put on a show!” Silas, who was sitting by the bed using a surgical scalpel to peel an apple for Vivian, paused his movements. A cold glint flashed across the silver blade. The apple peel snapped. “Sienna, if you pull another cheap stunt like this, don’t blame me for disregarding our blood ties.” My eyes immediately lit up. That was a truly excellent blade! Staring intently at the scalpel in Silas’s hand, I looked at him with eager, starry eyes and made a polite request. “Um, could I borrow that knife you have there?” “Asher is totally right. A wooden stick can’t kill a person. If I want to commit suicide, I really need to use a blade.” The air in the room froze solid. Asher let out a furious laugh, pointing his finger right at my nose and cursing. “Playing this game again? Sienna, how long are you going to keep up this act?!” “Here! Take the knife! Let’s see if you actually have the guts to die!” Before Silas could even react, Asher snatched the scalpel from his brother’s hand and threw it right at my feet. I picked it up frantically, like I had just found a priceless treasure. Without a single ounce of hesitation, I raised the blade and slashed it ruthlessly across my own throat. Asher’s eyes blew wide open in sheer terror. Remembering the phantom agony he had experienced just hours ago, his body moved on instinct, and he reached out to grab the descending blade barehanded. Drops of crimson blood slowly trickled down the silver handle and splattered onto the white tiles. My hand gripped the handle tightly, pausing mid air. I looked up and met Asher’s eyes, which were blazing with a monstrous, apocalyptic fury. He stared at me, his lips trembling violently, his voice completely cracking. “Sienna! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!” 3 The sharp edge of the blade had sliced deep into Asher’s palm. The flesh was torn open, exposing a gruesome, bloody mess that made my scalp tingle just looking at it. Yet he kept his fingers clamped around the metal, refusing to let go. Silas’s expression changed drastically when he saw the blood. He lunged forward and brutally twisted my wrist. The force was so immense I felt like my bones were going to shatter into pieces, forcing me to release my grip. The scalpel clattered onto the floor. He kicked the knife far away before turning his darkened face to me with a low, menacing growl. “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” I just felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. It was so hard to simply die these days. Seeing Asher bleeding because of me, Vivian’s face turned ghastly white. She bit her lower lip so hard it almost bled, and tears began falling without any warning. She struggled to sit up from her hospital bed, clutching her chest, crying out to me. “Sister, if you want to hurt someone, just hurt me! Don’t hurt Asher!” “It’s all my fault. I never should have been swapped at birth and stolen your life. Take all your anger out on me!” “If my death is the only thing that will satisfy you, then I’ll go die!” Vivian threw off the blankets, stumbled out of bed, and ran toward the stairwell outside the ward like a madwoman. “Vivi!” Silas’s face contorted in panic, and he immediately chased after her. Asher didn’t even care about his profusely bleeding right hand. Ignoring the pain, he sprinted right behind them. A dramatic Titanic style scene quickly unfolded at the top of the stairs. Silas wrapped his arms tightly around Vivian from behind, while Vivian spread her arms wide, crying and shivering uncontrollably. “Silas, let me go. Only if I die will my sister stop torturing you all!” The more she struggled, the tighter Silas held her. Asher stood closely by, nervously shielding both of them. The three of them pulled and pushed in a chaotic, tangled mess. I slowly walked over to the edge of the railing and glanced down. We were over a dozen floors up. The height was definitely sufficient. “Alright, you won’t actually jump even if we wait twenty years. I’ll just do it myself.” With those clean and decisive words, I vaulted over the metal railing and threw myself headfirst into the abyss. In that split second, it was as if Asher sensed something through our twin connection. He looked toward where I was falling and charged over like a lunatic. “Sienna!” He threw himself onto the floor, the veins popping on his right arm as he desperately clamped his bleeding hand onto the hem of my hospital gown. My entire body was suspended in mid air. Drops of his blood fell directly onto my face. Hearing the commotion, Silas whipped his head around, staring at the scene in absolute disbelief. It was as if he had just been jolted awake from a nightmare. He shoved Vivian aside, strode over, and dropped to his knees to help Asher pull me back up. Realizing I was about to be dragged back to safety, I panicked. I thrashed my body wildly, trying to slip out of my outer gown. But I was no match for the combined strength of two grown men, and I was forcefully hauled back onto the landing. Asher was panting heavily. He stared at me, his eyes hiding a lingering terror he hadn’t even realized himself. “Do you not care about your own life?!” “If you want something, just ask! But can you please stop trying to kill yourself every five minutes?!” Silas wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice still shaking noticeably. “Don’t you just want to come back to the family? Don’t you just want to be the true heiress? We will go talk to Liam right now!” “Just please stop putting us through this!” I froze for a moment. If I had heard those words just a few days ago, I probably would have been ecstatic. But right now, my only desire was to die quickly so I could go home. Hearing their desperate promises, Vivian’s face turned as pale as a sheet of paper. Her already red eyes filled with fresh tears. A barely detectable glint of jealousy and pure malice flashed through her eyes, vanishing in an instant. “Sister, I don’t know how much longer my broken body can hold on. Please, just wait a little longer. Once I’m dead, you can…” Before she could finish her sentence, she violently clutched her chest, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed stiffly onto the floor. “Vivi!” 4 Asher instantly let go of me and rushed forward like a madman to catch her. His face was covered in undisguised heartache and intense frustration. Silas also hurried over. After doing a quick preliminary check on Vivian’s vitals, his expression turned gravely serious. “Get her to the resuscitation room, now!” The two men carried Vivian and rushed away in a panic. Neither of them even spared a single backward glance at me. I silently walked back to my room and found the sharp, cold scalpel lying in the corner. Asher’s blood was still smeared across the metal. The System suddenly chimed in my mind. [Host, detecting that the capture mission progress has reached 60%!] [Would you like to continue the strategy?] [I quit.] I shook my head, grabbed a tissue to carefully wipe the scalpel clean, and then hid it securely in my pocket. I just wanted to find a quiet place where no one would bother me so I could leave in peace. Just as I stepped out of the ward, I ran right into my three brothers, who were rushing over. Liam’s gaze fell on the blood seeping bandages around my neck. A complex emotion flickered in his eyes. “They told me what you did.” “I can let you return to the family and restore your identity as the true biological daughter.” I said nothing, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “But,” Liam paused, his voice turning heavy. “To the outside world, Vivian and Asher will remain twins. Her identity cannot be changed.” “And you… you will be the newly found, adopted child of the Prescott family.” I let out a cynical scoff in my heart. To put it bluntly, they wanted me to hold the title of the true daughter internally, but live publicly as an illegitimate, unacknowledged child. That was a hundred times more nauseating than just being the fake heiress. Before I could even open my mouth to refuse, he sharply changed the subject. “There is one condition.” I looked up at him and spoke flatly. “What condition?” “Vivian suffered a severe shock today. She is in heart failure and urgently needs a transplant.” Silas, standing behind him in his white doctor’s coat, suddenly spoke up. “Your tissue matching is a perfect, flawless fit.” I was genuinely stunned. “And so?” “You don’t need to be afraid. Medical technology is highly advanced now. We will install an artificial heart to keep you alive. Your life won’t be in danger. Afterward, the family will use every single resource at our disposal to find a suitable donor heart for you.” I laughed out of pure, unadulterated anger. “If artificial hearts are so great, why don’t you just give one to her?!” Asher immediately lost his temper. His tone was laced with intense anxiety and harsh accusation. “Vivian has a special constitution! Her body rejects metal implants! She can’t use an artificial heart!” “You are the one who caused her to end up like this! Her life is hanging by a thread right now. If you refuse to save her, you are forcing her to die!” I pressed my fingers against my throbbing temples, taking a deep breath. I had finally reached the absolute limit of my tolerance. “Fine! Great! You just want a heart, right?” “I will donate it. Happy now?” Hearing my words, relieved and gratified smiles appeared on all three of my brothers’ faces. “Once you finish the surgery, we will publicly announce…” But in the very next second, without the slightest hesitation, I pulled the scalpel from my pocket, aimed the blade ruthlessly at my own chest, and plunged it directly into my heart. Then, with brutal force, I sliced downward! Hot blood splattered across their utterly terrified faces, and I let out a soft, airy laugh. “Here is the heart you wanted.” “Come and get it!” The moment my body began to fall, three figures stumbled wildly toward me.

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While scrolling on my phone to kill time during my lunch break, a post titled “To My Ex” abruptly caught my eye. The post reeked of a condescending superiority complex: “I know you’re still hung up on me. Stop secretly stalking my stories. We’re very happy now.” The poster even had the audacity to write, “When I take her to see the guys, I never demand she wear a full face of makeup. I’ll go out of my way to buy her favorite gift just because she took an extra bite of a certain dessert. Everything I didn’t do with you, I’ve experienced with her.” At the very end of the post, he left a soul-crushing final thought: “Maybe you weren’t wrong back then. I really never loved you.” Reading this wall of text, a wave of inexplicable anger rushed straight to my head. I thought to myself, why is everyone on the internet so full of themselves these days? I was just about to click into the comment section to leave a sarcastic remark. But the next second, when I caught a glimpse of the initials “SW” in the pinned comment, my blood instantly ran cold. Sierra Winters. Those were my initials! My heart sank heavily. I immediately clicked on the poster’s profile picture. It was unmistakably a back-facing solo portrait I had taken for my ex eight years ago. Frowning deeply, I forced down the nausea churning in my stomach and typed out a harsh reply: “I’ve been married for five years, and my son is almost three. I had no idea I still had an ex I couldn’t get over.” 1 Before I could even hit send on that comment, a friend request popped up at the top of my screen. Tapping into it, that familiar profile picture stung my eyes once again. It was a cartoon avatar I had hand-drawn based on a portrait I took for Nolan, back when my wrist was still intact. My heartbeat inexplicably skipped a couple of beats. Taking a deep breath, I pushed down the irritation building in my chest and hit accept. That old muscle memory of always replying to his messages instantly was apparently still lingering. But after all the toxic garbage we had been through, there was absolutely nothing left to say between us. Still, out of basic human decency, I sent a message over. [Please stop feeding the photos I took of you into AI generators to make your avatars. And take that picture off your main page so people don’t get the wrong idea.] The moment the message went through, a barrage of rapid-fire replies flooded the blank chat box. [I knew you weren’t over me. Nobody else would get the wrong idea but you.] [I made that video specifically for you to see. Stop stalking all my socials like a ghost. My girl will get jealous if she sees it.] It felt like an invisible hand had tightly gripped my heart. I had expected a rational conversation between two adults. Clearly, I was being too naive. Flashing back to that malicious video, I gritted my teeth, my fingers flying across the keyboard to type “You’re really overthinking this”. But before I could finish typing, his messages poured in like a flood again. [I’ve been with her for years now, and she was never the awful person you made her out to be.] [Can you stop acting like a bitter ex and badmouthing her behind her back?] [I know you’re still waiting for me, but no matter how many pointless things you do, we are never getting back together. She is the only woman I love now!] Seeing that last line, my temples throbbed wildly. The sheer absurdity of it made me laugh out of pure anger. With trembling hands, I violently mashed a question mark. [?] [Who has the free time to care about your pathetic drama? I’m married. Get back together? Are you completely delusional?] As soon as that last message was sent, a red exclamation mark popped up on the screen. He had blocked me. I immediately switched back to the social media app. Sure enough, in the latest comment section, he had posted heavily censored screenshots of our chat, only revealing my message telling him to change his avatar. He paired it with a highly inflammatory caption. [I hope a certain someone knows when to stop.] The comment section was instantly swarmed by netizens demanding justice for this “devoted ex.” [This guy has it so rough. Why is this woman using such underhanded tricks? All she did was look at his stories, it’s not like she committed murder.] [Have the people above never seen female jealousy in action? The poster was clearly forced to speak up by his current girlfriend. Otherwise, who would make a whole video calling out an ex just for looking at a few updates? This is just flexing their relationship and rubbing salt in the wound.] [Tsk tsk, this ex-girlfriend is incredibly unlucky. Getting publicly executed years after a breakup. Bet this guy still has feelings for her, got caught by his current girl, and had to post a video to prove his innocence.] Faced with these cynical remarks, Nolan’s reply was unusually calm and certain. [Say whatever you want, it won’t matter. I know her.] Those simple words felt like an incredibly fine needle plunging into my chest without warning. How long had it been since I heard someone talk about me with such unquestionable certainty? Undeniably, he really was once the person who knew me best in this world, the person closest to me. But so what? The deepest understanding is no match for the fickle nature of the human heart. Nolan and I met when we were eight. Until we went our separate ways, we had accompanied each other through sixteen long years. Back then, because my features looked completely different from my wealthy adoptive parents, I was treated like a freak at school. The kids mocked me, calling me a feral child picked out of a dumpster. Nolan, on the other hand, was a boy raised in a loving middle-class family, radiating a naive kind of heroism. He would always show up when I was at my lowest yet stubbornly refusing pity, standing in front of me like a little adult to strike back at the bullies. I actually told him many times that for a kid who grew up in the foster system, those empty insults meant absolutely nothing. But he was paranoid, believing I was just scared and bottling it up. So he volunteered to be my personal guardian angel. He even bugged his parents into transferring him to my class and shamelessly pestered the teacher to seat him next to me. Because our houses weren’t on the same route and he couldn’t walk me home easily, he threw massive tantrums until his parents actually moved to a neighborhood closer to mine. I was completely bewildered by his exaggerated actions. In my mind, kids’ enthusiasms always came and went in a flash. In the foster system, I had seen too many orphans unceremoniously returned because the adoptive family’s biological kids decided they “weren’t fun anymore.” I figured that once he lost interest in a boring playmate like me, he would naturally go find new friends. But I never expected him to stick around like an unshakeable shadow for eleven solid years. From elementary through high school, I went from intensely resenting someone breaking my isolation, to gradually getting used to seeing his bright smile whenever I turned my head. A teenage girl’s secret crush always takes root and sprouts quietly in those fragmented moments. The year we graduated high school, I asked him a question with a probing smile. If the girl being bullied back then had been someone else, would he still have followed her around like a fool every single day? He sharply caught the extreme lack of security hidden behind my smile, and with an almost reverent posture, he firmly supported my vulnerability. “Funny thing is, ever since I started hanging around you, I often felt that blindly protecting people just to play the hero was really stupid,” he said, looking into my eyes. “It’s like it was destined. All my heroism was meant just for waiting for you.” At that time, I carved those words deep into my soul. So much so that later, when he ran off to play hero for another woman, that vow became the most ironic joke. By the first year of my Master’s program, we had been together for five years. Our parents had even started discussing the details of our post-graduation wedding. Everything was running on a perfect trajectory, right up until our engagement dinner. Gemma, a girl who came out of the same foster home as me, tore all that beauty to shreds with her own hands. God knows what methods she used to drag the old director of the foster home out to give false testimony. In front of all the guests, she tearfully claimed that the person my wealthy parents were originally supposed to adopt was her. She claimed the person who was supposed to be cherished by Nolan should have been her too. She accused me, weeping bitterly, of sneaking sleeping pills into her milk on the day my adoptive parents came to choose a child, causing her to miss her chance to change her destiny. Back then, we were the only two girls who fit the criteria. By taking her out of the picture, I became the only choice. She blamed my selfishness and cruelty for the hellish life she had endured when she turned sixteen. I originally thought anyone with a brain would instantly see through such a clumsy lie born of extreme jealousy. After all, in college, she used the banner of being my friend to stab me in the back countless times. When she couldn’t scrape together enough living expenses from her part-time jobs, I stepped up and fought to get her financial aid back from a rich kid pretending to be broke. But she turned around and spread rumors that I hated the rich and was intentionally targeting that student. Right before finals, she had neglected her studies for work. I not only organized all the review materials for her and stayed up until 3 AM helping her study, but during the exam, I even risked passing her notes so she wouldn’t fail. Yet she turned right around and reported me to the professor for attempting to cheat. Countless times when I complained to Nolan about this garbage, he would grind his teeth in anger, telling me to stay away from that ungrateful viper. Yet at the engagement dinner, Nolan actually believed her nonsense, even announcing the cancellation of our engagement on the spot. My adoptive parents stood by my side at first, gently comforting me, telling me to wait for Gemma to calm down and for the truth to come out. But that wait lasted a full year. During that year, terrified of being abandoned again, I walked on eggshells. I followed their arrangements, yielding to Gemma at every turn, only to watch helplessly as they drained the love they had for me drop by drop. Until finally, I read it in their disgust-filled eyes: they had already convicted me in their hearts, deciding I was a scheming bitch who stole someone else’s life. My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp ping from my phone. It was a direct message from Gemma. [I know you saw the post. Stop acting so high and mighty. We’ve been incredibly happy all these years. You better kill any thought of ruining our relationship right now!] Staring at the provocative text on the screen, I let out a cold laugh, losing any desire to even reply. I casually clicked into her profile. It was filled with so-called high-end photography, but her pathetic follower count and the kind of bogus photographer certification you could just buy with cash completely exposed her true colors. I couldn’t hold back and mockingly typed out a line. [Back then, Nolan threw away his basic human decency to pave the way for you. How is it that after all these years, you’re still a useless piece of trash that can’t hold herself together?] Back then, under their cold, indifferent gazes, I relied on my own merit to secure an exchange spot at a top art academy in Paris. I naively thought that as long as I was excellent enough, I could win back their approval. But just a week before my flight to Paris, Nolan secretly took all my raw negatives and reported me to the competition committee under his real name, claiming I plagiarized Gemma’s work. The university and the organizers stripped me of my qualifications without hesitation. Seeing Gemma trailing behind Nolan with that victor’s smile mixed with hypocritical pity, I felt the blood in my veins freeze over. “Why?” I heard my own dry voice ask. The look in his eyes was a hundred times colder than the first time I rejected him when we were eight. “Her talent really isn’t as good as yours, but she works harder. She needs this chance to rise up more than you do. Besides, if you hadn’t played dirty back then, all of this would have been hers today anyway.” “You’re just giving back what you stole.” At that moment, every vow he made to me when we were eighteen crumbled into dust. Overcome with violent rage and grief, I passed out on the spot and was rushed to the ER. When I woke up, the air smelled of antiseptic. Nolan sat by the bed, letting out an incredibly hypocritical sigh. “You didn’t need to make such an ugly scene. She promised me she only wants a career; she won’t take anything else from you. I will still keep my promise to marry you, but on one condition.” “From now on, you absolutely cannot publish any photography under your own name. But in private, whenever she needs it, you must fully cooperate with her.” The implication in his words wrapped around my neck like a venomous snake. Trembling all over, I stared at him dead in the eye. “You’re telling me to be her ghostwriter?” He gave a muffled hum of agreement. “It’s what you owe her. With her own skills, she could never shoot an award-winning piece like that in her lifetime. So as compensation, you’re going to keep shooting for her until she gets bored of this industry.” That day, I acted like an absolute lunatic, smashing everything in sight inside that hospital room. Yet it still couldn’t shake his cold heart. The day before Gemma flew to Paris, holding my trophy, taking my spot, and even clutching the offer from the top magazine meant for me, she came in arm-in-arm with my boyfriend to look down on me and say thank you. Taking advantage of the moment Nolan stepped out to take a call, I secretly turned on my phone’s voice recorder and baited her into talking. She was completely unguarded, even showing a flaunting smile. “Honestly, I just couldn’t stand the sight of you, so I made up a story. Who knew that bunch of idiots would swallow it whole.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted the rusty flavor of blood in my mouth. After she left, I immediately took the recording to appeal to the university and leaked the audio on the campus forum. I thought the truth would finally come to light. But what I got wasn’t my adoptive parents coming to their senses. Instead, Nolan hired someone to produce a technical report accusing my recording of being an AI-generated forgery. He even spread rumors that I suffered from severe paranoia. He thoroughly wiped thousands of gigabytes of precious raw files I had accumulated since I started photography. Included in them were every single moment I had captured of him. He said that as long as those files existed, they were a ticking time bomb threatening Gemma’s future. I became a rat crossing the street, spat on by professors and classmates alike. When the university handed down my expulsion notice, he spoke to me in a tone reeking of charity. “She’s too pitiful, her mental state has always been unstable. I couldn’t just watch her last hope get shattered, so I had to sacrifice you.” My throat was as hoarse as if I had swallowed crushed glass when I desperately asked him: “Did you forget how she bit the hand that fed her? So, you don’t love me anymore, do you?” He reacted like a cat getting its tail stepped on, instantly raising his voice. “Of course I love you! But can you stop dragging up the past? Who hasn’t made mistakes when they were young? It’s not like she’s some unforgivable murderer!” It wasn’t until that moment that I completely woke up. The boy who once kept claiming he would be my personal hero had long since draped his cape over someone else’s shoulders. An hour before Gemma boarded her flight, I was locked inside a psychiatric ward, watching her being interviewed on the TV screen. She smiled so radiantly, without a trace of that gloomy girl from the orphanage. And the man standing next to her, looking at her with eyes full of deep affection, was Nolan. The picture-perfect couple they made slashed me into a thousand pieces like sharp blades. Even my adoptive parents came to the hospital, earnestly pleading with me to let go, telling me to stop being evil and just consider it building up some good karma for myself. I lay despairingly on the cold hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. In my mind appeared the seven-year-old girl who had nothing but could run wildly under the sun. Using every ounce of strength I had left, I smashed the window and jumped from the fourth floor. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to die. As I fell, I snapped several thick branches, which cushioned the fatal impact. I didn’t die. But the severe abdominal trauma led the doctors to conclude that it would be incredibly difficult for me to ever have children of my own. During the days I spent drifting in and out of consciousness, I groggily heard my adoptive parents in the hallway urging Nolan to stop tying himself to a lunatic like me and just get together with Gemma. He rejected the idea extremely harshly. “Absolutely not. The only way I can completely control her is by marrying her and tying her to my side, forcing her to be Gemma’s stepping stone for the rest of her life.” The moment I heard those words, I didn’t shed a single tear. The very first thing I did when I was fully awake was find an opening, grab a sharp shard of glass, and without hesitation, slash the tendons in my right hand. That was the hand I used to press the shutter. Since they wanted to squeeze out every last drop of my value, I would rather destroy it with my own hands than let them get what they wanted. After realizing I had become completely useless, they avoided me like the plague, never appearing in my hospital room again. And after I recovered, I unilaterally severed all ties with my past and bought a one-way ticket to the East Coast alone. The second year after I left, I heard they finally got together without any reservations. And it was there that I met Justin. Sunlight finally pierced back into my life. As for the so-called “stalking” Nolan accused me of online, I had just randomly seen a post on my feed, thought the back profile looked familiar, and clicked in for a glance. Who would have thought these people were like unshakeable parasites? No matter how many times you block them, they still crawl through the internet to make you sick. I gripped my phone tightly, my brows locked in a dead knot. Suddenly, a tiny hand carrying the scent of baby lotion gently smoothed out my frown. “Mommy! What are you thinking about?” Before I could answer, another warm, broad palm covered my forehead. “What are you zoning out for? Finn’s been calling you forever and you didn’t even blink.” I looked up, meeting the man’s deep, gentle eyes, and handed him the chat logs on my phone directly. He scanned it rapidly, letting out a cold, oppressive laugh. “The world really has changed. Any random piece of trash dares to label themselves a ‘devoted ex’ now. Wait for it, baby. Tomorrow night, your husband is personally going to get your payback.” Justin directly contacted my old class president under my name, had his assistant book out a top-tier restaurant, and set up a so-called “class reunion.” He even specifically instructed the class president to ensure that Nolan and Gemma would definitely attend. In the private dining room the next evening, I sat in the seat of honor, casually making small talk with my old classmates. Suddenly, suppressed sounds of arguing drifted in from outside the door. I stood up and pulled the door open. Gemma, who had a face full of hostility a second ago, instantly switched to a fragile expression the moment the door opened. She was clinging tightly to Nolan, whose face looked stiff. “Long time no see, Sierra. Where’s this legendary husband of yours? Weren’t you supposed to bring him out to meet us today?” I opened the door fully and made a “please” gesture. “He had a last-minute overseas conference call. He’ll be here shortly.” The words had barely left my mouth when Gemma let out an ear-piercing sneer. “Sierra, you really don’t have to invent a fake husband just to save face in front of us. Even if you never get married in your life, for old times’ sake, we wouldn’t laugh at you.” She paused, her eyes turning venomous. “But you better pack up those dirty, shady thoughts. My fiancé already made it perfectly clear to you online yesterday, you two are over. The only reason we took pity on you and showed up tonight was to crush your hopes for good!” The air in the room instantly froze. A few classmates awkwardly exchanged glances. Nolan’s face looked absolutely terrible. He looked at me with a condescending mix of charity and guilt. “She just speaks her mind. Don’t take it to heart.” “She’s just worried that you’re still living in the shadows of the past and ruining yourself just to prove a point. She’s kindly reminding you, there’s no malice.” “Marriage isn’t a game, and it’s certainly not a tool for you to act out of spite. You don’t have to settle for just anyone just to act tough in front of us. If you haven’t met the right one, take your time.” “Please don’t make a joke out of the rest of your life.” His earnest, patronizing tone was truly nauseating. I curled my lips into a faint smile. “Haven’t seen you in years, and your habit of lecturing people has only gotten worse. But thanks for your ‘good intentions’ anyway. My head is perfectly clear. I know exactly what I’m doing.” I picked up the wine glass in front of me and toasted him from across the massive dining table. Nolan’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. He picked up his glass and downed the red wine in one gulp. When he looked at me again, his reddened eyes surged with some incredibly complex, even slightly fanatic emotion. I was just about to say something to end this disgusting segment. BANG! Gemma suddenly grabbed the heavy glass water pitcher from the table and hurled it violently at me. “You shameless bitch! I’m standing right here, and you dare make eyes at my fiancé right in front of me!” “And you dare say you don’t have feelings for him? This hard-to-get act of yours is sickening! You just want to ruin us and steal him away from me!” “Keep dreaming! He’s mine!” The shattered glass shards ruthlessly slashed across my forehead. A warm liquid with a strong metallic scent instantly flowed down my brow bone and into my eye. I winced in pain, Nolan’s near-hysterical roar ringing in my ears. “Sierra! Are you okay?!” He tried to rush over like a madman to check my injuries. But before he could even touch me, a tall, commanding figure brought a blast of cold air, stepping ahead of him and pulling me tightly into a protective embrace. “Baby, what happened? Let me see!” Justin’s voice suppressed a terrifying fury as he wiped the blood from my face with gentle but trembling hands. Leaning against his solid chest, I shook my head slightly to show I was holding up. But when I raised my head, I caught sight of Nolan’s face, drained of all color, veins popping. He stared dead at us holding each other so tightly, his voice trembling beyond recognition. “You… you really got married?”

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Two months ago, I received a massive batch of blood samples for a DNA paternity test at the lab. My coworker gossiped that the applicant had absolutely no idea who the father of her child was, so she brought in a sample from every single potential candidate. There were exactly sixty-six vials. Peeking through the blinds of my office, I realized the applicant was none other than my ex-husband’s new wife. It brought my mind back to the day he handed me the divorce papers. “Mary consulted an astrologer. She says a spring baby brings ultimate wealth to a family, so she wants to give birth next spring. We can’t wait any longer,” he had said smoothly. “I waited until your day off to tell you. I didn’t want you getting distracted at the lab,” he added, as if doing me a favor. “You can’t conceive anyway. Just sign the papers. When the baby is born, you can be the godmother.” That sentence pierced me like a physical blade. I didn’t argue. I simply signed my name in silence. The truth was, I already knew everything. On New Year’s Eve, while I was pulling a graveyard shift at the clinic, Archer had taken my then-best friend to an exclusive midnight wishing ceremony at a cathedral to pray for a speedy marriage. Throughout the holidays, he took that woman shopping at luxury boutiques in Paris, booked a ski resort in the Alps, and even maxed out my credit card buying her astronomical gifts. 1 Mary’s belly was already showing. She was at least five months along. The margin of error for her conception window was barely a week. I looked down at the tray of samples in my hands. I couldn’t even fathom the logistics behind gathering sixty-six different vials from sixty-six different men. When we divorced, Archer swore that what he loved most about Mary was her absolute purity. I honestly thought he had found some innocent, untouched little flower. Turns out, this was his idea of pure. When I first got pregnant during our marriage, I woke up in the middle of the night with blinding cramps. Blood soaked the sheets. I reached for the other side of the bed, only to find it completely cold. Panicked and terrified, my hands shook violently as I dialed his number. The phone rang for an eternity before a woman’s voice finally answered. “Hello?” I pulled the phone back to check the screen. It was definitely Archer’s number. Ignoring everything else, I desperately pleaded into the receiver. “Where is Archer? Put him on the phone, my stomach is killing me.” Then, Archer’s muffled voice drifted through the speaker from the background. “Babe, get in bed. I just finished my shower.” My heart plummeted into an abyss. The pain radiating through my body turned into a paralyzing numbness. In my panicked state, I quickly hung up the phone. By the time I woke up from the emergency surgery, I was lying weakly in a sterile hospital bed. Archer finally strolled into the room, entirely unhurried, only because his parents had nagged him into coming. There was no pity in his eyes. No worry for the baby. He just stood coldly at the foot of my bed, staring at my pale, sickly face. “A woman is a man’s ultimate accessory. How am I supposed to take you out to events looking like a walking corpse?” I gripped the bedsheets, my voice hoarse. “Don’t you want to know what happened to the baby?” “I know. You just had the scraping procedure. The kid washed out.” I froze. He thought I had just gone in for a routine, elective abortion. He thought the baby was simply gone. There wasn’t a single trace of regret on his face. I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. All the grievance and agony bubbling in my throat was forcefully swallowed back down. Archer casually tossed a high-end spa gift card onto my blanket. His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his entire demeanor instantly brightened. “Artie, why aren’t you back yet?” a sickeningly sweet voice whined through the speaker. “I have insomnia. I can’t fall asleep without you holding me.” That sugary tone worked like magic on him. He smiled, his voice dripping with affection. “Be good, Mary. I’m visiting a patient at the hospital. I’ll be back a little later.” The woman on the other end clearly wasn’t happy. “That woman again? She is so annoying. I heard she miscarried. She can’t even keep a baby safe, how embarrassing. If you want a kid, Artie, I can give you one.” Archer’s smile deepened. “I knew my Mary was the best.” “I’ll be back a bit late tonight. I’m going to grab a hotel room to shower first. Hospitals are full of germs, and I don’t want to bring anything back that might affect your health.” “Wait for me, babe.” Archer hung up the phone and didn’t spare me another glance. He simply tossed the divorce papers onto my lap and walked out the door. Watching his retreating back, the very last thread holding my heart together completely snapped. I pulled out my phone and typed a quick text to the Medical Director. “I accept the fellowship program in Germany.” Archer didn’t know the hospital board had been trying to send me overseas for an elite training program. Taking it meant I would officially be next in line for the Director’s position. It was a monumental leap in my medical career. I had hesitated for months, purely because I wanted to prioritize our marriage. The board had urged me multiple times to look at the bigger picture, but my brain had been entirely consumed with rushing home to cook him dinner. It took this absolute betrayal for me to finally wake up and realize what truly mattered in a woman’s life. 2 Mary leaned heavily over the reception counter, looking frantic. “When do I get the results?” “Three days, at the earliest,” the receptionist replied. “What? Three days!” Mary’s face warped with rage, her eyes bulging. “I want to expedite this!” “Go get your manager right now! I am not communicating with a lowly receptionist.” The young girl flushed red, completely overwhelmed. I secured my medical mask and walked out of the double doors. “Ms. Mary, you submitted an incredibly large volume of samples. Three days is already a miracle.” Mary slammed her manicured hand on the desk, her voice shrill. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?” “I’m filing a formal complaint against you!” I frowned. “Ms. Mary, if you continue to cause a scene and disrupt our laboratory workflow, we won’t even be able to guarantee the three-day window.” Mary kept hurling insults. “You people better speed it up! If this delays my inheritance and the signing of the equity transfer, I will destroy your lives!” I paused. Archer really did value having an heir. He was actually going to transfer family equity to her. I looked down at the requisition forms in my hand and smiled thinly. “If you feel our processing time is inadequate, you are welcome to take your business elsewhere.” Our facility had the fastest turnaround time in the entire metropolitan area. Mary had definitely done her research. Just as I expected, Mary’s face paled, and her arrogant fire instantly extinguished. I didn’t say another word, turning on my heel back into the lab. My phone dinged in my pocket. I checked the screen. It was an unsaved but deeply familiar number. Archer. “Are you back in the States yet? Find some time so we can transfer the property deed.” When Archer first demanded the divorce, his mother fiercely opposed it. But the second she heard I had miscarried, her attitude flipped completely. Afraid I would drag out the legal process, she promised to give me our ten-million-dollar luxury penthouse as compensation. I had signed the papers and left the country immediately. Now, the moment I landed, his texts started coming in. Archer claimed Mary had fallen in love with the penthouse. “You can’t have kids, and honestly, no man is going to want to marry you now anyway. The place is way too big for just you. Plus, I’d hate for you to live there and be depressed looking at all our old memories.” Reading those texts made me want to laugh out loud. Archer had always been this pathologically narcissistic. He was absolutely certain I was still hopelessly in love with him. I simply typed back one word. “Fine.” I didn’t want a single thing tainted by Archer’s presence. I never wanted to cross paths with him for the rest of my life. I spent the entire day processing Mary’s ridiculous batch of samples. After my shift, a coworker dragged me to a high-end mall for dinner. As fate would have it, we bumped right into Archer and Mary. Mary was clinging to Archer’s arm, looking up at him with a sickeningly sweet blush. “Hubby, the baby is kicking me again.” Archer’s eyes melted with affection. “You’ve worked so hard for us, Mary.” “Once the paternity results come out and I hand them to the board of directors, you’ll officially receive fifty percent of the family conglomerate’s shares.” “You are so good to me, Archer.” Mary leaned into his chest, the picture of a devoted wife. “By the way, about the penthouse…” “Don’t worry about it. I already made it very clear to Nora. That property is my compensation to you.” I stood a few feet away, my thoughts a swirling mess. Archer and I had met through a blind date set up by family friends. People in our circle used to say that when a rich playboy like Archer finally agreed to blind dates, it meant he was done partying. Men like him played hard in their youth, but when it came to marriage, they strictly looked for a quiet, honest woman to anchor them down. The implication was clear. I was the boring, safe anchor. I had never been in a real relationship before. Despite my friends’ warnings, Archer’s aggressive romantic pursuit swept me off my feet entirely. But once the ring was on my finger, the only things I received were apologies and compensations. He bailed on our anniversary. Apologized. He missed my birthday. Apologized. He skipped every prenatal checkup. Apologized. The apologies were given to me, but the compensations were always spent on other women. And like an idiot, I forgave him every single time. I genuinely believed that if I just loved him a little harder, he would eventually turn around and choose me. Looking back now, it was utterly pathetic. Noticing I had spaced out, my coworker nudged my arm. “Nora, what are you zoning out for? Our table is ready.” Her voice echoed in the quiet corridor, catching the attention of the happy couple. Hearing my name, Archer turned his head. His gaze slowly dropped, landing directly on my rounded, pregnant belly. He stood completely frozen. 3 Archer marched over, his expression a chaotic mix of emotions. “You are pregnant?” I didn’t answer. “When did you remarry? The doctors told me you couldn’t…” Archer stammered, losing his composure. Mary’s face darkened. She stepped up, hooking her arm possessively through his, and shot me a triumphant, vicious glare. “Got knocked up the second the divorce papers were signed?” Mary rolled her eyes. “Or maybe you were already pregnant before the divorce?” Right on cue, Archer’s face turned thunderous. “You cheated on me, Nora? And here I thought you were this pure, innocent victim. I treated you so well.” “You are such a disappointment.” He put on a flawless performance of a deeply betrayed, heartbroken man. Anyone watching would think he had loved me to the ends of the earth. One month into our marriage, Archer was caught by the paparazzi hooking up with a supermodel in his sports car. I had gone to a VIP club to confront him, face pale and hands shaking. Standing outside his private booth, I heard his frat brothers teasing him. “Archer, you’ve barely been married a month. Aren’t you worried the little wife will find out and lose her mind?” “Her? She’s as naive as a daisy. I just spin a basic lie and she eats it right up.” The entire room erupted in laughter. “That’s the kind of girl you marry. Easy to manage.” That single sentence nailed my feet to the floor. That was how he repaid my innocence. That was his version of treating me well. I looked at Archer now and let out a cold laugh. “Archer, we are legally divorced.” “My pregnancy has absolutely nothing to do with you.” I grabbed my coworker’s arm to leave, but Mary shoved herself in front of us, blocking our path. “Since we’re officially divorced, isn’t it time you handed over the penthouse?” A crowd of onlookers was quickly forming around us. Mary deliberately pitched her voice higher. “You cheated on him during the marriage, and now you’re trying to steal a ten-million-dollar property? You’re nothing but a gold-digging scammer!” The crowd ignited instantly. Whispers and pointed fingers surrounded me from all sides. “Have some shame!” “Women like her ruin society.” “Sue her! Make her give the house back!” Phone cameras flashed blindingly in my face. The insults lashed at me like physical whips. Humiliated, I glanced at Archer. He stood right across from me, his face carved from ice. He didn’t have the slightest intention of clearing my name. The crowd surged forward, and someone shoved me hard from behind. I lost my footing and crashed onto the hard marble floor. In the chaos, my coworker desperately grabbed my hand to break the fall. As I looked up, I caught a fleeting, venomous smirk on Mary’s face. A sharp, dull ache bloomed in my abdomen. My coworker shrieked and dialed 911. When I woke up in the hospital, the internet was flooded with viral posts destroying my reputation. People called me a cheater, a scam artist, and even a home-wrecker. I calmly called my lawyer, gave him full power of attorney over the penthouse, and ordered him to finalize the transfer to Archer immediately. I rested in the hospital for a day before returning to the lab. My assistant met me with Mary’s remaining requisition forms. They couldn’t finish the last batch. Mary hadn’t provided enough amniotic fluid. “Call her. Tell her she needs to come in.” Suddenly, the laboratory doors were pushed open. “Archer, I’m bringing the report directly to the board tomorrow. We really don’t need to check on it today.” Archer walked in, practically dragging a reluctant Mary behind him. “Are the results out yet?” He looked up and our eyes locked. He frowned, but before he could speak, Mary gasped. “What are you doing here, you bitch?” A split second later, sheer panic washed over her face. I curled my lips into a smirk. “We ran out of amniotic fluid. We need to extract a little more.” “That’s impossible! I gave you so much!” I kept my eyes locked on her and stayed silent. Mary’s guilty conscience was suffocating her. She didn’t dare say another word. “Go,” Archer commanded. “This facility is the only one authorized by the board of directors. We must secure this specific report.” Visibly trembling but unable to defy Archer, Mary followed my assistant into the examination room. A few minutes later, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. “Ah!” Archer burst into the examination room. Mary was writhing on the medical bed, the lower half of her dress completely soaked in blood. The stark white sheets were stained a blinding, horrifying red. “Hubby, Nora did this… my baby.” Archer spun around, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He raised his hand and delivered a brutal, full-force slap across my face. My cheek swelled instantly, and the metallic taste of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. “Nora, you harmed my child. Today, I am going to make you pay.” 4 My assistant broke down in terrified sobs. “Director, I swear I don’t know why she started hemorrhaging! I didn’t even do anything yet!” “It’s okay. I believe you.” I wiped the blood from my lip and gently patted her shoulder. “Archer, her bleeding has absolutely nothing to do with us.” Acting as if she had been deeply triggered, Mary shrieked at the top of her lungs. “It was you!” “You’re jealous! You’re jealous that I took Archer away from you, so you planned to murder my baby!” The veins in Archer’s neck bulged as he glared at me like a mortal enemy. “Nora, how long are you going to haunt my life?” “I told you, I stopped loving you a long time ago.” “I haven’t even settled the score with you for cheating on me, and now you cross the line and try to kill my heir?” He lunged forward, his large hand clamping violently around my throat. “Let me make this crystal clear. If anything happens to my kid…” He dropped his gaze to my pregnant belly, his voice dropping into a lethal threat. “…you won’t be keeping yours either.” Real panic set in. “Archer, I’m telling you, we didn’t touch her.” Archer ignored me completely. The OBGYN team rushed into the room. They managed to stabilize Mary and save the baby. She was ordered to remain on strict bed rest for several weeks. Hearing the news, the murderous tension drained from Archer’s face. “Mary, you terrified me. Thank God our baby is safe.” He wrapped his arms around her, his eyes shining with tears. “Archer, I was so scared. I thought I was never going to see you again.” Mary’s tears flowed perfectly on cue, twisting Archer’s heart into knots. “Archer, you have to get justice for me.” My expression hardened. I turned around to leave the room, but Archer sprinted ahead, slamming the door shut and blocking my exit. “Think you can just walk away?” His eyes were dark and venomous, radiating a chilling cruelty. A shiver ran down my spine. “What do you want?” “I want you to apologize to my wife. On your knees. You will kneel there until she decides she is satisfied.” I didn’t answer, pushing my weight against him to move him aside. He didn’t budge an inch. “You better think about the baby in your belly, Nora. It would be a tragedy if something happened to it.” I instinctively wrapped my arms protectively around my stomach. My due date was rapidly approaching. My body couldn’t handle physical trauma. “Be a good girl and kneel. If we’re in a forgiving mood, maybe we’ll let you walk out of here intact.” Looking at their ruthless, utterly devoid-of-empathy faces, a suffocating despair washed over me. Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I bit the inside of my cheek to keep them from falling. Slowly, I bent my legs, the cold tile biting into my knees as I lowered myself to the ground. The sheer humiliation drowned me like a tidal wave. I knelt there for an entire night. By morning, my knees were entirely numb, and the agonizing strain on my lower back was unbearable. It was time for the board meeting. Mary opened the door, her makeup flawless. Before she left, she leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I know exactly what you’re plotting. But guess what? I don’t need your lab report anymore.” With a victorious smirk, she strutted away. My assistant rushed into the room, tears streaming down her face as she helped me off the floor. “Director, are you okay?” she sobbed. I staggered to my feet and took the finalized DNA report she handed me. I flipped it open. The probability of paternity was absolute zero. The child was definitively not Archer’s. I rested a hand on my belly and a cold smile touched my lips. At the corporate headquarters, the Chairman reviewed the independent appraisal Mary had handed in. “Board members, the conglomerate has a strict tradition. Any woman carrying the direct bloodline of the family is entitled to fifty percent of the shares. It is our law.” “You have all reviewed the documentation. If there are no objections, let us proceed with the signing.” A radiant, greedy joy illuminated Mary’s face. Archer took her hand and gently guided her to the signing podium. “Mary, you are the greatest blessing to this family. This equity is a symbol of my devotion to you.” Overcome with emotion, Mary leaned up and kissed him. “Thank you, my love.” She stepped up to the podium and picked up the solid gold fountain pen. Just as the nib was about to touch the parchment, the heavy mahogany doors of the boardroom violently burst open. “I object.”

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