Category: English

Reborn as the true heiress to a powerful family, my mind is haunted by splinters of a past I can’t quite grasp. In these fractured memories, I was the class “science freak,” an outcast. Once, when a classmate wouldn’t leave me alone, I gave him a so-called “smart drug” just to get him off my back. His IQ skyrocketed to 300. It didn’t last. The next day, he was abducted by a shadowy corporation, his skull cracked open for research. There are darker visions, too. A father, obsessed with having a son, forcing my mother into another pregnancy. She died giving birth to my brother. Drowned in grief, I tried to stitch her back together, to graft her life force onto my father’s. The grotesque chimera I created lost control. In its rage, it swatted me out of existence with a single, monstrous blow. Now, I am the long-lost daughter, and the blood-soaked memories of that other life cling to me like a nightmare. 1 Melody, the fragile girl who took my place, sniffled, her eyes welling with tears. “You can have my room, sister.” I shrugged. “The lab is fine.” At that, she burst into tears, ready to flee the mansion. “You don’t have to be so cruel! I’ll leave, I’ll just leave!” My father, Richard, instantly pulled her behind him, a human shield. “Melody has a fragile heart, Nova. Try to be considerate. Don’t fight her over a room.” A fragile heart? I thought. An interesting hypothesis. Perhaps I could help her with that. I was already mentally mixing a formula, a subtle concoction that would slowly, literally, turn her heart to glass. But what I saw as a scientific problem, my new mother, Isabelle, saw as stubbornness. She rushed to Melody’s side. “Why can’t you just let her have it!” she snapped. “We gave you life, nothing more! We didn’t raise you. Don’t you dare think you can replace Melody in our hearts.” I froze, a flash of irritation piercing my calm. In that other life, my father hadn’t cared for me, but my mother… my mother had loved me. This time, it seemed, her affection belonged to someone else, too. I watched them, a perfect family portrait. Richard with his arm around Melody, Isabelle clasping her hand, my brother, Spencer, handing her a tissue to blot her tears. They looked so… complete. My fingers twitched, itching for the scalpel in my pocket. Maybe I should just sew you all together. But the memory of my last attempt was a bitter lesson. Brute force was messy. Finesse was required. I took a deep breath, trying a different approach. “Father, from a biological standpoint, Melody shares no genetic material with you.” He frowned. “What are you trying to say?” “You’re defending her so passionately. Are you sleeping with her? Planning on making her my new stepmother?” Richard slammed his hand on the table. “What the hell are you talking about!” Isabelle’s voice was sharp. “Apologize to Melody this instant!” I turned to her. “And you’re so protective of her, Mother. Are you planning on sharing him? I’ve noticed you have trouble getting around. Melody looks strong enough to help you service him.” My mother, confined to her wheelchair, turned a sickly shade of green. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Spencer shot to his feet. “How can you say that about Melody! We’re a family!” I looked him straight in the eye. “You’re not related to her by blood, either. Are you in love with her? Planning to marry her? It seems like a neat solution. She wouldn’t have to leave, and we could all keep living together.” Spencer trembled with rage. “You… you’re impossible!” Melody was now sobbing, gasping for air. “You don’t have to spread such disgusting rumors about me! What do you gain by humiliating me? I was already going to give everything back to you!” She clutched her chest, a vision of tragic beauty. Richard hugged her tighter. “Shh, Melody, don’t cry. Dad’s here.” Isabelle glared at me. “Look what you’ve done to your sister!” Spencer pointed a shaking finger at me. “Apologize!” This was all so tedious. Family drama was a chaotic variable I couldn’t control, unlike experimental data, where one was always one, and two was always two. My attempt at a logical solution had somehow become slander. In the end, because I refused to apologize, they gave me a storage room filled with new, unassembled lab equipment to serve as my temporary bedroom. “You’ll make do with this for now,” Richard said coldly. “When you decide to apologize, I’ll have the maid prepare a proper room for you.” I said nothing, happily moving my things in. The equipment was top-of-the-line, just a little dusty. It took me a while to set everything up. While I was at it, I synthesized the potion for Melody’s “fragile heart.” It was colorless and odorless. The reagents I had on hand weren’t ideal, so it would take seven days to fully activate. Finally, I went downstairs for dinner. The dining table was a picture of domestic bliss. Melody sat between Richard and Isabelle. Spencer was placing choice cuts of steak on her plate. I was at the far end of the table, alone. “Pour Melody some juice,” Isabelle commanded. Richard picked up the pitcher and glanced at me. “You do it.” I took the pitcher. And added my little concoction. When I handed the glass to Melody, she wiped the rim with a napkin, a look of disgust on her face. I smiled. Seeing my apparent obedience, Richard cleared his throat. “Since you’re making an effort to behave,” he announced, “I’ll arrange a welcome banquet tomorrow to officially introduce you to society.” Before I could respond, Melody’s smile froze. Tears plopped into her bowl of soup. “My heart… it hurts so much. I feel like it’s going to shatter.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Am I being too sensitive? It’s just… the thought of everyone knowing I’m not your real daughter… it’s agony.” She clutched her chest, her face pale. Your heart hurts because it’s slowly turning to glass, I thought. Not because of some trivial social drama. The potion was working faster than expected. But my parents saw only her tears and panicked. Isabelle wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t cry, sweetie, we won’t do it! No announcement!” Richard nodded emphatically. “She’s right, no announcement. We’ll just tell everyone you’re a scholarship student we’re sponsoring.” Spencer turned to glare at me. “You hear that? Don’t get any ideas about telling people who you are. If Melody gets hurt because of you, I swear I will make you regret it.” I sliced into my filet mignon, looking up at him. “Fine by me. Being a charity case sounds great. Will you actually be funding me?” My parents exchanged a look. Richard coughed. “As compensation for not announcing your identity, we’ll give you the same allowance as Melody.” Isabelle added, “Fifty thousand dollars a month. You should thank your father.” “Thanks,” I mumbled, my mind elsewhere as I continued cutting my steak. This was pathetic. Even in my last life, my allowance started at two hundred thousand. How else was I supposed to fund my experiments? I needed to find a way to get more capital. As if on cue, Melody wiped her tears, a faint smirk playing on her lips. She let out a sharp whistle. “Come here, baby!” A massive, muscular bulldog charged into the room, its jaws aiming straight for my leg. I raised the scalpel I’d been using for my steak. A blur of flashing steel. In seconds, the dog’s internal organs were arranged on the floor in neat, anatomical order. Its skeleton was perfectly stripped of flesh, and its hide was laid out flat beside it. I wiped the blade clean. “Why would you keep such a vicious animal in the house? I’ve taken care of it for you. It makes for a pretty good specimen, don’t you think?” Dead silence. Melody’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape. She looked down, then doubled over and vomited. Richard clapped a hand over his mouth and ran for the bathroom. Isabelle threw up all over her wheelchair. Spencer’s legs gave out, and he collapsed, retching onto the Persian rug. I placed my scalpel on my plate and stood up. “I’m full. I’m going to go pack for school.” By the time I came back downstairs, they had recovered. Spencer was dangling his car keys, smiling dotingly at Melody. “Melody, those legs and feet were made for ballet, not for walking to school. Come on, I’ll drive you.” Melody giggled sweetly. As she reached the door, she glanced back at me. “Sorry, sister. There’s no room in the car.” The door clicked shut. I slammed the frog I’d planned to dissect at school onto the ground in frustration. Why couldn’t they just give me a ride? I despise walking. I hate all forms of physical exertion! When I finally arrived at school, I saw Melody surrounded by a crowd of admirers, gliding toward her classroom. I’d forgotten she was the school’s queen bee, immensely popular. I was just a nerd in glasses, a ghost in the hallways. I pushed my glasses up my nose as I passed her classroom. “Well, look what we have here,” Melody called out, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “It’s my family’s little charity case!” She immediately turned to the girls around her. “You know, this morning she dissected my dog. Right in front of me,” she whispered conspiratorially. “No expression on her face, just slice after slice. It was terrifying. She has to be mentally ill, right?” Melody sighed dramatically. “I can’t imagine anyone would actually want to sit next to her.” I stared at her, unable to argue. I was a science freak. Sighing, I turned to leave, but she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong. “Where are you going? You want everyone to think I’m bullying you? That I won’t let you in the classroom?” I yanked my hand free. “Did you even look at my transfer exam scores?” Melody blinked, confused. I pressed on. “Your classes are mostly for arts and humanities majors. I’m in the advanced science track.” I adjusted my glasses again. “I may be a science freak, but I’m a very smart science freak. Don’t drag me into your angsty high school drama.” Her face went pale. I turned and walked to the advanced science classroom. Pushing the door open, I found a room of students hunched over their desks, scribbling furiously. No one looked up. I found an empty seat in the back and, after setting up my textbooks, discreetly began cross-referencing my latest experimental data. This was perfect. I just wanted to be left alone to be a freak. Data doesn’t bully. Data doesn’t play games. I had no intention of attending the school’s talent show. It was a waste of time I could have spent ignoring my professors and focusing on my own projects. But Isabelle insisted I go watch Melody dance. I was dragged along against my will. The auditorium was dazzling, the stage lights brilliant. Melody’s ballet performance was breathtaking, earning a thunderous applause. I glanced at my mother. Her usually stern face was soft with pride and nostalgia. She had once been a prima ballerina herself. Nerve damage from childbirth had put her in the wheelchair. Then, Isabelle turned and looked at me. Her expression soured. Disgust. Loathing. And a flicker of something that looked like hatred. Because Melody was living her dream. And I was merely the sinner who had crippled her. This was pointless. I stood up to leave. “And now, please welcome a very special performer!” the host’s voice boomed through the speakers. A spotlight hit me. Melody, still catching her breath at the side of the stage, was clutching her heart. She took a microphone from a stagehand and smiled. “Mother always says to be fair, so I couldn’t be the only one to perform. I signed you up too, sister.” She tilted her head. “You wouldn’t say no, would you?” Every eye in the auditorium was on me. Isabelle frowned. “Well, you’re signed up. Go on, give it a try. You are my daughter, after all. You must have some talent.” Melody, pressing a hand to her chest like a tragic heroine, smiled. “Break a leg, sister.” I watched her clutching her heart. That organ was crystallizing, and she was still finding time to plot against me. I wasn’t going to engage, but if you insist on poking the bear… Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next. “Alright,” I said with a smile. I walked onto the stage. The music started. I had no idea how to dance. I was stiff, clumsy, a marionette with tangled strings. The audience fell silent. Then came the whispers. A few people snickered. My mother covered her face with her hands. In the wings, Melody covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. When it was over, I stood on the stage, my face a blank mask. The host tried to salvage the moment. “Ha, that was very… creative.” Isabelle was frowning at me. “You may be my child, but you certainly didn’t inherit my gift.” She looked at Melody with pure adoration. “It must have been fate that sent Melody to take your place.” Melody nestled against her. “Oh, Mother, I’ll dance for you forever.” I stood beside them and scoffed. “Watching someone else dance can’t be as satisfying as dancing yourself.” Isabelle looked up. “What do you mean by that?” I pointed at Melody’s legs. “I mean, I can graft Melody’s legs onto you.” Both of them stared at me, stunned. “Wh-what?” “I said, I can give you her legs.” I pulled out a small case containing two frogs I’d prepared, one green with yellow legs, one yellow with green legs. “I am proficient in lower-body grafting procedures. I can attach Melody’s legs to your torso, allowing you to walk again. My technique is so precise, you’ll even be able to dance with them.” Isabelle’s breathing grew ragged. Melody stumbled back. “No! I won’t do it!” Isabelle’s gaze fixed on her, hot and intense. “Aren’t you my devoted daughter? Didn’t you say you’d do anything for me?” Melody’s face was ashen. My mother’s eyes turned to ice. “To think I’ve spoiled you for all these years, and you’re not willing to make one small sacrifice for me! In that case, you might as well go back to the gutter where you belong!” In the end, terrified of losing her mother’s affection, Melody reluctantly agreed. After the surgery, I smiled down at my mother. “How does it feel to stand again?” “It’s wonderful! I want to start practicing, to dance again immediately!” “Good.” I turned to Melody. “Is the wheelchair comfortable?” She said nothing, her glare sharp enough to kill. I just smiled. “Don’t be upset. You can always take up wheelchair dancing.” When Richard and Spencer found out, they had a massive fight with Isabelle. But Melody, crying, said that no sacrifice was too great for her beloved mother, father, and brother. The incident only made the three of them dote on her even more. Especially after Richard was diagnosed with a sudden, terminal illness. Melody, from her wheelchair, was a constant presence at his side, catering to his every need. She became famous throughout the city for her filial piety. I, meanwhile, was buried in work, shuttling between my home lab and the one at school, with no time for such sentimental displays. After finally cracking a difficult experimental problem, I stepped outside for a bit of sun. The hospital was nearby, so I decided to drop in. I didn’t expect to overhear my father dictating his final wishes to his lawyer. “I’ve decided on the distribution of assets. Spencer will take over my pharmaceutical company. Melody has taken such good care of me, she’ll receive a hundred-million-dollar trust fund.” He paused. “As for the one we found… leave her a million.” A million? I blinked. That wasn’t enough to fund a minor experiment. This wouldn’t do at all. It seemed I needed a new plan. When I got home, Spencer and Melody were already there, standing at the door of my lab. Spencer was holding a vial of my latest formula. “Well, look at you, working so hard,” he sneered. “Hoping to take over Dad’s company?” Melody rolled up beside him in her wheelchair. “You’re so ambitious, sister. Not like me. All I want is to live under the protection of my loving family.” As she finished, she clutched her chest, her brow furrowing in pain. Spencer immediately rushed to her side. “What’s wrong, Melody?” “It’s nothing, just a little stabbing pain in my chest.” I let out a cold laugh. A classic symptom of cardiac vitrification. Spencer slapped me across the face. “What are you laughing at? You’re the one who upset her, and you have the nerve to laugh! I knew you were a conniving bitch from the start. We were lucky you got switched at birth. Otherwise, you’d be fighting Melody for affection and me for the inheritance.” He stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. “But you’re too late. Even if you have the genius to make the company bigger and better, you’ve run out of time. Dad’s on his way out, and he’s leaving the company to me. This family, this fortune, it will all belong to me and Melody. I’ll protect her, and you won’t get a single cent of research funding from me.” I frowned. That was unacceptable. A life without research was a life not worth living. Just then, Melody wheeled herself into the lab and spotted the vials on my workbench. “What’s this?” she asked, picking one up. Spencer leaned in. “Something new you cooked up? Let’s have a look.” I held out my hand. “Give it back.” Spencer dodged me. “You want it back? Bark like a dog, and I’ll give it to you.” Melody giggled. “Yeah, go on, let’s hear it.” I looked at them. Forget it. The data was all in my head. They could have the physical sample. I turned to leave, but they dragged me to the industrial freezer and locked me inside. “It’s nice and cool in here. You should be comfortable,” Melody’s voice called through the door. “Go on, sister. Beg us. If you beg, we’ll let you out. Come on, give us a little bark.” I sat down inside the freezer. The thermometer read -20 degrees Celsius. To prevent reagent degradation, I’d spent more time in this freezer over the years than in my own bedroom. This temperature was nothing. But for daring to do this to me, they would face my retribution. I don’t know how much time passed before the door opened. My mother stood there. “What are you doing in here? Come out, you must be frozen.” I stepped out. “I’m fine.” “Mom, I’m going to the hospital.” “Now?” “Yes.” In the hospital room, my father lay against the pillows, his face a ghastly grey. The last will and testament sat on his bedside table. Spencer saw me first. “Well, well, the great scientist decided to grace us with her presence? The will is finalized tomorrow. You’re a little late.” Melody, from her wheelchair, clutched her chest, a triumphant smile on her face. “The inheritance is all settled, sister. How many lab rats can you buy with a million dollars?” Richard didn’t even want to look at me. “You finally show up? Too late.” He met my gaze. “I gave you life, nothing more. I’ll ensure you don’t starve, but you won’t get a penny more from me.” I looked at him, disappointed. It seemed that no matter which life I lived, my father was incapable of loving me. But it didn’t matter. I knew that for men like him, love was just a trinket, a little something they bestowed upon those who served their interests. Power and profit were the only things that truly moved them. I spoke. “Dad, I haven’t been here because I’ve been developing a cure for you.” “I can heal you. But it’s going to require a little sacrifice from Spencer and Melody.”

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My current boyfriend and I are together because he originally interfered with my relationship with my ex-boyfriend and pursued me. Perhaps because he used this method, he’s terrified that others will do the same to him, constantly worrying that I’ll leave. His possessiveness has become suffocating. I have to call him in real-time whenever I have a meal with anyone, and I have to undergo his interrogation before going to sleep at night. Even when I go out with my best friend, I have to be home before 10 PM. I simply couldn’t take it anymore and made up my mind to break up with him. That night, in the middle of it, he suddenly appeared by my bed, his voice cold, saying that if I wanted to break up, I could. Then he added that it would have to be after he died, and with that, he walked toward the window, looking like he was about to jump. Terrified, I immediately rushed over and hugged his legs, repeatedly saying I wouldn’t break up, begging him to stop. Ugh, what rotten luck, how did I end up with such a possessive person? 01 When I met Brian Sregor, I was still Adrian Thorne’s girlfriend. Adrian was tall and slender, gentle and wealthy. Reportedly, he fell for me at first sight. When he pursued me, he sent flowers, gifts, and warmth, kneeling by the sea with roses to confess, a grand and passionate display that made it hard for me not to fall. Seeing his handsome face, I agreed to his pursuit. I couldn’t help it; I’m a sucker for good looks. I could eat an extra half bowl of rice just looking at a handsome guy. Two weeks into our relationship, Adrian introduced me to his friends. He affectionately wrapped an arm around my waist and introduced me: “This is Mia, my girlfriend.” His friends exchanged glances, then praised me along with him: “Mia is so beautiful, no wonder Adrian pursued her for so long.” Another person nearby made a strange face, his tone amusing: “Mia, you wouldn’t believe it, when Adrian was pursuing you, he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, all he thought about was how to please you.” “We kept wondering what kind of woman could enchant Adrian so completely, and seeing you today, you’re indeed a goddess.” I smiled, not taking their polite words too seriously. Adrian’s friends all seemed very friendly, except for one. From the moment I walked in, a gaze had been fixed on me. I looked up. What a striking face, an absolute stunner. His features were exquisitely beautiful, yet his demeanor was cool and languid. His long, beautiful eyes met my gaze, the corners slightly upturned, ink-colored pupils holding a smile. His lips curved slightly, truly a captivating, devilish charm. Adrian was handsome, and his friends were good-looking, but compared to him, they simply faded into the background, dim and unremarkable. Adrian followed my gaze and instantly understood. He put his arm around my waist and greeted the man: “Long time no see, Brian.” Brian’s eyelids lifted, and he looked at Adrian, who was hugging me. The smile in his eyes receded, and he nodded coolly and reservedly: “Hello.” Outstanding looks, and even a pleasant voice. Adrian sighed helplessly: “Brian, you’re still so aloof. Can’t you say a few more words?” His friends chimed in, agreeing: “Exactly, Brian has always seemed unapproachable since childhood.” “For the sake of being childhood friends, this big shot barely agrees to speak a couple of words to us.” “Looking at him, we probably won’t be attending his wedding anytime soon.” Brian sat on the sofa, listening to his friends’ teasing without a care. But after a while, his lips suddenly curved into a smile: “Who says? I might have a crush.” A thunderclap out of nowhere. Adrian and his friends erupted: “The impossible has happened! Who is it, tell us!” I also wanted to know. Someone this stunning has a crush on someone else? So, there are people in this world who don’t care about looks. Who could it be? But clearly, when Brian didn’t want to talk about something, no one could force him. Until the party ended, no one got any information out of him. 02 Ever since Brian and I connected on social media, I’ve developed a new hobby: checking his profile. Although they appear to be ordinary life photos, if you zoom in, you’ll notice some subtle intentions. For example: after a workout, a translucent garment is casually rolled up, revealing his abs and V-line. In dim lighting, long, well-defined fingers loosen his collar, exposing a beautiful and sexy collarbone. Of course, the main attraction is always his breathtakingly handsome face. I suspect Brian is fishing, trying to reel in his chosen catch. But thanks to that catch, we onlookers get a feast for our eyes. “Mia.” Adrian walked up to me, a frown on his face, looking displeased. I put away my phone; I still loved my boyfriend very much. “What’s wrong?” Clearly, Adrian wasn’t upset about Brian. He took my hand: “A friend of mine is back, and she wants to meet you.” “But don’t believe everything she says.” I sensed an unusual vibe from his cautious tone. And it was indeed unusual; the moment we met, she eyed me from head to toe. Adrian took my hand and greeted the person opposite us: “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Mia.” Chloe, wearing a pink and white dress, had large eyes on a cute heart-shaped face, and long, dark curly hair framing her ears. She was sweet-looking and had a sweet voice. She grabbed my hand, all warmth and familiarity: “Mia, I’m Chloe Sregor, Adrian’s childhood friend.” “Adrian, Mia is so beautiful!” With that, she immediately let go of my hand and playfully punched Adrian in the chest: “Your taste is still the best, Mia is much prettier than your previous girlfriends. You’re so lucky.” Childhood friend, Adrian. I shot Adrian a wry glance, a half-smile playing on my lips. Adrian clutched his chest, glancing at me awkwardly, not daring to speak. This childhood friend’s game wasn’t very high-level. I tucked a stray hair behind my ear and smiled, looking down: “Perhaps Chloe just prefers my type of looks, which is why she thinks I’m prettier.” Chloe’s face flushed deep red; she probably hadn’t encountered someone like me, who could turn any situation upside down. It was almost as if a rival had suddenly become a ‘gal pal,’ and someone chuckled. Adrian immediately stepped in to smooth things over: “Alright, everyone, let’s go inside.” Once inside the room, Adrian insisted on squeezing onto the small sofa with me, thigh to thigh, waist to waist, as if afraid I was angry, constantly talking and trying to make me laugh. I remained expressionless; it wasn’t anger, mostly just how cramped it was. Brian sat alone on a single sofa, his spacious seat making me envious. Adrian kept leaning closer as he spoke, further encroaching on my space. “Is Mia upset with me?” Chloe, for no apparent reason, came over to interject again. She looked on the verge of tears, gazing at me pitifully: “It’s all my fault for saying the wrong thing.” “Mia, please don’t be angry with Adrian and me.” I stood up. The cramped seating was already annoying, and now this was even more so: “I’m not angry.” “Ms. Sregor, what right do you have to make Adrian and me angry?” “This is our first meeting. Before this, I’ve never even heard your name from Adrian. Ms. Sregor, you think too highly of yourself.” Chloe’s tears hung precariously, her expression stunned, probably not expecting me to be so direct. I watched her tears finally fall. Chloe choked out: “So Adrian didn’t want to mention me.” Adrian avoided Chloe’s gaze, but his hand tightened on mine. Chloe’s eyes reddened again: “I’m sorry, Adrian, I shouldn’t have broken off our engagement back then.” Engaged? I actually didn’t know about this. I looked at Adrian. His face was grim, and he whispered an explanation to me: “Mia, that was a long time ago.” So it was true. Chloe continued to weep, dripping tears: “Adrian and I had a childhood engagement.” I couldn’t help but interject: “What era is this? Childhood engagement? How old-fashioned.” Chloe briefly shot me a dagger look, but it had no effect. “Adrian was always so good to me when we were little, caring for me and even getting into fights to protect me.” I hadn’t expected the usually gentle Adrian to have fought for someone else. Adrian’s grip on my hand tightened unconsciously, but his gaze was fixed on Chloe, stern. “Chloe, stop. That’s all in the past.” Chloe cried pitifully, her eyes blurry with tears: “I’m sorry, Adrian, you were so good to me.” “Your Adrian was so good to you, yet you left without a word on your engagement day and ran off with someone else, didn’t you?” A sudden voice rang out, elegant and distinguished, with a mocking tone. I shifted my gaze. It was Brian, speaking with a smile, sitting on a nearby sofa, twirling a wine glass. “You enjoyed Adrian’s kindness, yet you were entangled with someone else. When you left a sticky note and walked out on your engagement day, did you consider the dignity of your fiancé and both families’ parents?” Chloe’s face flushed. No one had ever been so merciless to her. She was an only child, and her parents always doted on her. Even when she ran away from her wedding, her parents were only angry for a while and quickly forgave her, willing to back her up. Adrian’s parents didn’t say much, out of respect for her parents, and Adrian had spoiled her since childhood. A large part of her reckless, runaway nature was cultivated by Adrian’s indulgence. She would act cute and pitiful with Adrian, and he would always forgive her. Chloe lowered her head, secretly resenting Brian, but her voice remained sweet: “I was too naive back then.” Brian chuckled again, leaning his head back, his posture languid. Sunlight gently streamed in from the window, coating his porcelain-white skin with a light golden glow, his features even more strikingly beautiful. “Chloe Sregor, after all these years, you’re still both stupid and malicious, with no brains.” Brian met my surprised gaze, his eyes curving into a captivating smile. Chloe, however, stopped crying, glaring at Brian with hatred: “What did you say?” Brian’s tongue remained sharp and merciless: “Do you really think your little tricks are invisible to everyone else?” “How many times have you deliberately tried to sow discord?” “Only Adrian, that fool, was played by you, and that’s because he liked you.” “But he doesn’t like you anymore.” His words were so poisonous, practically an indiscriminate attack. Chloe’s nails dug into her palms, shaking with rage. Adrian had forgiven her, but after that, he started dating other girls. Yet, she managed to break up all those relationships, and he’d been single for years. Just as she thought she could rekindle things with Adrian, I appeared. “Adrian, you really don’t want me anymore?” I frowned deeply. She was openly confessing to my boyfriend in front of me. She really didn’t see me as anything. Good thing Adrian knew his place. “My feelings for Mia are sincere. I truly love her.” “The first time I saw her, I liked her.” “I want to marry her.” With that, he was about to get down on one knee to propose to me. That nearly scared me to death. I hadn’t enjoyed my good life long enough; I definitely didn’t want to get married young. “Alright, alright, I believe you, get up quickly.” Chloe completely broke down. Tears stopped falling, replaced by a hateful glare at me, her eyes like daggers. What’s the point of hating me? Did I force her to run away from her wedding? I turned around, giving Chloe the same scrutinizing look she had given me earlier: “You look much better like this than with your fake tears from before.” “Seems a lot more genuine.” Adrian stood silently by my side, clearly taking a stand. Chloe, seeing no one helping her, finally stormed off. But she didn’t know that Adrian, while wrapping his arm around my shoulder, had watched her retreating back for a long time. It wasn’t until I nudged him that he suddenly came back to himself and smiled at me. After the gathering, Adrian was about to take me home when he got a call. I didn’t hear what was said. He frowned deeply, looking at me with an awkward expression: “Mia, something’s come up with Chloe. I might have to go.” No wonder Chloe was so brazen; it was all Adrian’s indulgence. I wrapped my shawl tighter, tucking a stray hair behind my ear: “What about me, then?” Adrian spoke softly, his face cautious: “Can I ask Brian to take you back?” Just then, Brian arrived. He stood next to Adrian, tall and slender, twirling his car keys: “Ready?” I bypassed Adrian completely and left with Brian. “Brian, didn’t you drink earlier?” “The glass had grape juice in it.”

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1 The blood feud between the Monroe family and the Norton family had raged for generations. My father was killed by a conspiracy orchestrated by the Monroes, and Peter Monroe’s father was murdered by my uncle. We were born into a legacy of violence. Our families were sworn, mortal enemies. But absolutely no one knew that for the past eight years, Peter and I had been secret lovers in this very cabin. When we were intimate, he would wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze tight. I would bite down hard on his shoulder. We wouldn’t stop until the heavy, metallic taste of blood filled our mouths. He would lean in close to my ear and aggressively whisper that he truly wanted to kill me. I would whisper back that we should just die together. That even if we went to hell, we wouldn’t let each other go. I used to be incredibly naive. I actually believed that our love could wash away the hatred, that it could conquer the impossible circumstances of our reality. But today, everything changed. Peter walked into our cabin with his arm wrapped tightly around a strange girl. He looked me dead in the eye and introduced her as Chloe. And then he told me that she was his future wife. … I paused my hand mid-stroke as I cleaned my handgun. I didn’t stand up. Peter guided the girl to the sofa directly across from me and sat down. The girl kept her hands tightly clenched around the cuff of his suit jacket. Her wrists were incredibly thin, pale, and delicate. Completely soft. A stark contrast to my own hands, which were covered in callouses and old, jagged scars. I looked up. Click. I flicked the safety back on and set the heavy black pistol onto the coffee table. “Peter. Did you ask my permission before bringing trash into my house?” Chloe’s face instantly went chalk white. She shrank back, pressing herself deep into Peter’s chest. Her voice trembled, sounding incredibly pitiful and wronged. “Peter, let’s just go. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have insisted on coming…” “What are you afraid of?” Peter looked down at her. His eyes held a terrifyingly soft warmth that I had never seen in our eight years together. But when he looked back up at me, that warmth instantly shattered into razor-sharp ice. “I own half this property. If you can sit here, so can she.” He reached out, gently pinching the girl’s chin, and tilted her head up. Right in front of my face, he kissed her. Chloe offered a weak, symbolic push against his chest before completely giving in. As she closed her eyes, I caught the smug, victorious glance she shot me from the corner of her eye. I sat perfectly still, my fingers crushing the gun-cleaning cloth in my lap. The slick, dark gun oil seeped through the fabric and coated my skin, making my stomach churn with disgust. When they finally broke the kiss, Peter gently wiped the corner of Chloe’s mouth with his thumb. “Chloe is clean. She’s gentle. She’s never had blood on her hands, and she hasn’t taken any lives. Not like you. You reek of violence. You look like a vengeful ghost.” “Aria, a man doesn’t want a partner who swings a machete next to him in a turf war. A man wants a woman who can speak softly, who acts cute, and who can stay safely at home.” “And that is something you will never be able to learn.” “Is that right?” I laughed. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, staring him down across the coffee table. “Eight years. It took you eight years to figure out what kind of person I am?” “I knew from the start.” Peter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze drifted back down to Chloe. “I was just blind before. But now, I finally understand what I actually want.” He stood up, wrapping his arm around Chloe to guide her out. As they walked past my chair, her sharp stiletto heel deliberately stepped on the gun cloth I had dropped on the floor, grinding it viciously into the hardwood. The absolute second the front door clicked shut, I stood up and violently kicked the coffee table. It flipped through the air and crashed. The whiskey bottle, the crystal glasses, everything shattered into a million jagged pieces. For the next two weeks, Chloe’s presence became a suffocating shadow over my life. She showed up at the exclusive club where I was hosting a major business negotiation. She “accidentally” bumped into me while holding a glass of red wine. The dark liquid soaked my silk blouse. Before I could even react, her eyes welled up with tears and she threw herself into Peter’s arms. I was furious and tried to confront her. But Peter stepped in, shielding her behind his back in front of all my business partners. He stared me down, his face a mask of absolute coldness, and delivered a ruthless threat. “Aria, if you touch a single hair on her head, I will personally destroy your primary supply line.” I looked at him, smiled coldly, and didn’t say a single word. The very next day, he made good on his threat. He brought his men and intercepted my shipment. Three tons of product. He didn’t leave me a single scrap. She printed out dozens of intimate photos of her and Peter and mailed them to every single department in my corporation. She sent me text messages in the middle of the night, attaching pictures of Peter sleeping next to her. The background of the photos was the silk sheets we had picked out together. The lighting was from the Nordic chandelier we had installed together. I never replied. I just ordered my men to dig up every single detail of her past. 2 An orphan. No parents. No family. Peter supposedly picked her up while she was working as a bottle girl at a local dive bar. She was as clean as a blank sheet of paper. And she was as fake as one, too. My lieutenant asked if I wanted him to make her disappear. I didn’t answer right away. I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and slowly exhaled the smoke. “No rush. If you want to know what the enemy is plotting, you have to let the prey strike first. Then, you kill them with one blow.” To her, my silence was proof of weakness and surrender. She didn’t disappoint me. A few days later, she ambushed me right in the lobby of my corporate headquarters. In front of dozens of my employees, she placed a protective hand over her flat stomach. Her eyes were bright red as she bowed deeply to me. “Miss Norton, I’m begging you, please let me go! I’m pregnant with Peter’s child. I just want to live a quiet life and have my baby.” “Please, I’m begging you! The baby is innocent! Don’t hurt him! This is Peter’s only bloodline!” The lobby immediately erupted into shocked, furious whispers. My fingernails dug violently into my palms, but I didn’t lose my temper in public. Instead, I leaned down and gently patted her on the shoulder. “Chloe. If you want to play a game, I will play with you until the bitter end. Just don’t regret it.” That exact night, I had her dragged to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. She was thrown onto the concrete floor. Tears streamed down her face like a broken necklace. “Miss Norton, I’m sorry! I was wrong! I’ll never do it again, please let me go!” I squatted down in front of her, casually flipping open a tactical folding knife. The sharp, metallic click echoed in the massive room. The cold steel caught the dim light, reflecting onto her terrified face. “Your mistake wasn’t messing with me. Your mistake was taking something that didn’t belong to you and parading it around like a trophy.” I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. Her head whipped to the side. She was completely stunned, clutching her cheek as she stared at me in absolute disbelief. “That was for the rules. Don’t touch my man.” My hand came down a second time. Blood instantly welled up in the corner of her mouth. “That was for basic human decency. Never mistake someone’s tolerance as permission to act like a bitch.” I didn’t stop. Again. And again. The sharp cracks of my palm hitting her face echoed rhythmically. I counted every single one. At first, she tried to act tough and begged for mercy. Then, she started screaming Peter’s name at the top of her lungs. By the end, she couldn’t even make a sound. Blood dripped heavily from her chin onto the concrete. When I hit one hundred, I finally stopped. I grabbed the collar of her shirt, wiped the blood off my knuckles, and stood up, looking down at the broken mess on the floor. “Those hundred slaps were to jog your memory. If you cross me again, I won’t be taking your face. I’ll be taking your life.” It was just beginning to get light out when I finally pulled up to the estate. The moment I pushed the heavy oak doors open, the suffocating stench of stale cigarette smoke hit my face. Peter was sitting on the sofa in the dark. Dozens of crushed cigarette butts were scattered around his boots. Before I could even open my mouth, he stood up and closed the distance between us in three massive strides. He violently grabbed my jaw, his fingers digging into my cheeks, his teeth gritted in pure, homicidal rage. “Aria. You actually dared to touch her.” I looked up, staring dead into his eyes. My jaw was throbbing in agony, but I smiled. “I touched her. So what? If she has the guts to get in my face, she better have the guts to take a beating.” He raised his hand and struck me across the face with terrifying force. My head snapped to the side. The skin of my lip split open, and the heavy, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. I slowly turned my head back, looking him right in the eye. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t show a single ounce of weakness. “You brought this on yourself, Aria.” “She took a hundred hits. You’re going to take two hundred.” “Try me.” I opened my mouth to shout for my guards outside. But Peter was faster. He kept his brutal grip on my jaw and violently twisted his wrist. My jaw loudly dislocated, instantly locking into a sickening, crooked angle. Immediately, the lieutenant he had brought with him rushed forward, expertly pinning both of my arms behind my back. The second slap landed. The entire right side of my face instantly went numb. He didn’t stop. Again. And again. The heavy, brutal blows rained down on my face, alternating left and right. I didn’t try to dodge. I didn’t beg for mercy. I didn’t even try to take a step back. I stood perfectly rigid, keeping my eyes locked dead onto his face. By the time he hit fifty, my vision started to swim with black spots. A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears. The blood pooled heavily in my mouth, spilling over my lips. A thick drop of my blood splashed onto the back of his hand. It was so hot that he actually flinched and pulled his hand back. 3 Seeing his boss hesitate, the lieutenant’s grip on my arms loosened slightly. I immediately seized the opening. I twisted my body, driving my elbow brutally into the lieutenant’s temple, knocking him out cold. I reached up, grabbed my own jaw, and violently snapped it back into place. I spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto his expensive shoes and smiled at him. “What’s wrong?” “Hand getting tired? Didn’t eat breakfast?” He ground his teeth together, raised his hand, and delivered another brutal slap. This one hit harder than all the rest combined. Two hundred times. Not one more, not one less. When the final blow landed, he violently yanked his hand back and turned his back to me. I could hear the knuckles in his hand popping as he clenched his fists. I had to grab the wall just to stay on my feet. My face was so swollen it had entirely lost feeling. I reached up with a shaking hand and wiped the blood from my chin. I took a slow step toward his back. My voice was a rasping whisper. “Peter. We are even.” “If she ever steps foot in front of me again, I will carve a piece of meat off her bones. You are more than welcome to pay me back double.” “Unless you plan on killing me right now, I swear to God she will end up in a body bag long before I do.” He whipped around, staring at the horrific, bloody mess he had made of my face. His lips trembled. He opened his mouth to say something. But in the end, he just clenched his jaw and spat out a single threat. “Don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t do it.” He spun on his heel and stormed out. The heavy front doors slammed shut behind him with explosive force. I stood completely alone in the massive foyer, staring at the scattered cigarette butts on the marble floor. Slowly, my legs gave out, and I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed. It was exactly 8:00 AM. Eight years ago, at this exact hour, we had moved into this house together. For the next two weeks, Chloe completely vanished from my life. Half a month later, it was time for the annual syndicate charity gala. My makeup artist had to apply three heavy layers of industrial concealer just to hide the lingering, dark bruises on my face. I stood near the edge of the ballroom, wearing a custom haute couture gown, holding a crystal champagne flute. I listened to the quiet, vicious whispers of the city’s elite. They were all laughing about how Peter Monroe had turned on the Norton heiress and declared war, all over some cheap bar girl. I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I turned around to see Peter walking toward me, his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe’s waist. Chloe was wearing a flowing, angelic white gown. The bruises on her face had completely healed. Her makeup was flawless. She rested a delicate hand protectively over her slightly rounded stomach, leaning her entire body weight affectionately against Peter. She walked right up to me and politely asked the other guests standing nearby to give us a moment. Once we were alone, she dropped her voice to a vicious, gloating whisper. “Do you see this, Miss Norton? I am three months pregnant with Peter’s child. He promised me that the second the baby is born, we are getting legally married.” “He said that I am the only woman he will ever marry in this lifetime.” “Honestly, I should be thanking you for the little stunt you pulled last time. If you hadn’t done that, I never would have realized just how much weight I hold in his heart—” My grip on the crystal flute suddenly tightened with terrifying force. The glass cracked loudly under my fingers. Blood mixed with the expensive champagne and ran down my wrist. I didn’t even look at her. I raised my eyes and stared directly at Peter. He was standing right next to her. He clearly heard every single word of her gloating, venomous speech, but he didn’t do a damn thing to stop her. He just stared at me with a dark, heavy gaze, as if he was waiting to see how I would react. I smiled. I opened my hand and casually set the shattered glass onto the railing next to me. I reached out and gently patted Chloe on the cheek. My touch was feather-light, and my voice was equally soft. “Congratulations.” Without another word, I turned my back on them and walked away. I didn’t look back once. Two hours later, my men dragged Chloe into a sterile, underground operating room. She was strapped to the surgical table, fighting like a wild animal. She screamed, crying hysterically, calling me a venomous bitch, and screaming Peter’s name at the top of her lungs. I stood next to the surgical lights, staring down at her. I turned to the underground doctor and gave a single order. “Terminate it. Clean her out completely. No anesthesia.” The procedure was over in less than thirty minutes. I had just turned around to leave when the heavy steel doors of the operating room were violently kicked open. Peter charged into the room, his eyes bloodshot and completely feral. He lunged at me, his hands wrapping brutally around my throat. He slammed me against the tiled wall with terrifying force, instantly cutting off my air. “Aria!” “Are you completely insane?! That was my child! How could you do this?!” I was suffocating, my vision going black at the edges, but I actually smiled. I forced my arm up, reached into the pocket of my blazer, and pulled out two crumpled, faded ultrasound printouts. I slammed them directly into his face. 4 “You want to talk to me about children?” “Look at those papers. The first one is from when I was twenty. The second is from when I was twenty-two.” “Two children. Both of them were yours.” “The first time… you told me the Monroe family civil war wasn’t over. You said you couldn’t afford to have a weakness. I laid on a freezing operating table entirely alone, passing out from the agony, while you were busy fighting for control of your syndicate.” “The second time… the Nortons and the Monroes were in an all-out street war. You said bringing a child into that crossfire was a death sentence. I got on my hands and knees and begged you. I told you I would take the baby and disappear, that we would go somewhere no one knew our names. And you told me absolutely not. You said Peter Monroe’s child would not be raised like a rat in the gutter.” “And now, you want to scream at me about your child?” “Peter, you have no right!” My voice was dead calm, but every single syllable was laced with a decade of suppressed, venomous hatred. The hands crushing my windpipe instantly lost their strength. He looked down at the faded ultrasound papers scattered on the bloody floor. His body violently swayed as if he had been shot. He took a stumbling step backward, crashing heavily into a surgical tray. Metal instruments clattered to the floor in a deafening crash. “Aria…” It had been three months since he had called me by that name. I pushed him aside and smoothed the wrinkles out of my jacket. All the emotion, all the hatred, all the rage slowly drained out of my eyes, leaving behind nothing but a stagnant, dead pool of water. “Peter. Everything between us rotted away a long time ago.” I didn’t look at him again. I didn’t look at Chloe whimpering on the operating table. I turned around and walked out the door. Three days later, Peter trapped me in my private safehouse in the old district. He allied himself with the traitors within the Norton family. In a single night, he violently took over every single one of my territories and severed all my supply chains. My men were either slaughtered or bought off. By the end of the night, I was entirely alone in the safehouse. He had his men weld thick steel bars over all the doors and windows. The only way in or out was the heavy steel front door. The digital keypad code was still set to my birthday. But I couldn’t leave. That night, a massive thunderstorm rolled in. The rain came down in absolute sheets, and lightning violently illuminated the sky. It felt exactly like the night we turned eighteen. The first night we ever spent together in this house. The heavy steel door clicked open. Peter walked inside. He brought the freezing chill of the storm with him. In his right hand, he was gripping a heavy, matte-black handgun. It was the gun I had given him for his twentieth birthday. He walked slowly across the living room and stopped directly in front of me. He slowly raised his arm, leveling the barrel directly at my chest. I was sitting on the sofa. I looked up at him. I didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t say a word. “Chloe is dead.” “Aria, you destroyed my child. You destroyed Chloe. Tell me, do you think you should pay for that with your life?” I stood up. I took a slow, deliberate step toward him. His entire body instantly went rigid. As I stepped forward, the gun barrel slowly began to shake, inching backward. “Don’t move! I told you not to move!” I didn’t stop. I kept walking until I was standing right in front of him. I was so close I could smell the stale tobacco and the cold rain soaking into his coat. I reached up and firmly grabbed his wrist, the hand holding the gun. I pulled it forward, pressing the cold steel muzzle violently against my own chest, right over my heart. The heart that had beaten for him for eight years. Those eyes, the eyes I had loved for eight years, were bloodshot and completely feral. “If you want revenge, pull the trigger.” His hand was shaking violently. He desperately tried to yank the gun away, but I gripped his wrist with terrifying strength, refusing to let him move an inch. Tears spilled over his eyelashes, dropping heavily onto the back of my hand. They were shockingly hot. “Aria. Let go of my hand.” “I don’t blame you anymore. We can stop fighting now, okay?” I smiled. The tears finally spilled from my own eyes. “Peter. Eight years. All the blood spilled between the Nortons and the Monroes. The two hundred times you struck my face. The three children I bled out on a table. How exactly are we supposed to settle that?” “We’ve fought for so long. We’ve hated each other for so long. And we’ve loved each other for so long. I’m so tired.” I looked into his eyes. My fingertips reached up and gently traced the line of his jaw, as tenderly as I had done a thousand times before. “Peter. Since we can’t afford to love each other anymore, and we don’t have the strength left to hate each other… let’s just end it.” The sheer, absolute terror in his eyes reached its breaking point. He fought like a madman to rip the gun out of my grip. “Aria! Stop! Put the gun down!” “I forbid you from dying! Do you hear me?!” I ignored him entirely. I brought my other hand up, wrapping my fingers over his index finger, which was still resting on the trigger. I took one final look at his face, permanently burning the image of his complete, utter breakdown into my memory. When we were eighteen, I took a knife to the gut for him. He held me in his arms, his eyes just as red as they were now, sobbing uncontrollably like a little boy. And then, I squeezed his finger. I pulled the trigger. Bang— The deafening gunshot was entirely swallowed by a massive crack of thunder.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421688”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I noticed an elegant gift box sitting by the door. My sister burst into the house, fresh from her blind date, and started screaming. “What a complete loser! He makes less than half of what I do, and he actually expects me to stay in this dead-end town and start popping out kids by next year!” Mom and Dad rushed over to comfort her, complaining about how unreliable the matchmaker was. I couldn’t help but murmur softly. “He seemed nice. He drove you all the way home and even brought us gifts.” Phoebe let out a sharp laugh, looking at me with pure disdain. “What? You got a crush on him?” “Makes sense. You never could compete with me. A guy like that is exactly your speed.” She impatiently shoved the man’s contact info toward me. “I am not spending my life rotting in this boring little town. If you want him, take him.” I quietly accepted the contact card. I didn’t bother telling her that the car he just drove her home in belonged to the regional director of my agency. I also happened to know his family owned over thirty rental properties in town. … Phoebe was still fuming when her phone buzzed. She read the text, and her face darkened even more. “He is so annoying. He wants to take me to the movies tomorrow. I already said no, but he just won’t take a hint!” Mom quickly chimed in. “Phoebe, honey, don’t reject him so harshly.” “We live in a small town where everyone knows everyone. If you snap at him today, people will start gossiping tomorrow. They will say you think you are too good for local boys just because you work in Manhattan.” Dad nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Small town politics are complicated. Who knows what kind of connections his family has? If you offend the wrong person, it might make things difficult for you whenever you come back to visit.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. Her gaze suddenly landed on me, her tone dripping with fake charity. “Sophie, you go in my place tomorrow.” “Just cover for me and entertain him. Don’t mess it up.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded silently. No one asked if I wanted to go. In this house, I never had the right to say no. To make sure I didn’t mess up, I stayed up late researching the movie Ross had picked. I filled an entire notebook page with details about the plot, the hidden Easter eggs, and the director’s unique cinematography. The next day, Ross looked visibly surprised when he saw me waiting at the theater. I offered a polite smile. “My sister had a last-minute emergency at work. She asked me to come and apologize in person.” Then, I casually mentioned a few interesting facts about the film. His eyes lit up instantly. “Since you appreciate good cinema, it would be a shame to waste these tickets. Would you like to join me?” After the movie, we stood in the lobby for a long time, deeply engrossed in a discussion about the ending. He insisted on treating me to dinner. The conversation flowed effortlessly. There was absolutely no trace of the arrogant, mansplaining vibe Phoebe had complained about. Instead, he was incredibly attentive. He made sure my water glass was full and asked thoughtful questions about my favorite foods. After dinner, he suddenly guided me into a high-end jewelry boutique next door. He picked out two gorgeous gold pendants. When I saw the price tag approaching four thousand dollars, I froze and immediately tried to decline. He just smiled, shook his head, and handed over his credit card. “I was in a rush yesterday and didn’t get a chance to prepare separate gifts for you and your sister. Keep this one for yourself, and please pass the other one to her for me.” I accepted the jewelry box, fully aware that he still cared about Phoebe’s opinion. It made sense. Phoebe was stunning, a top-tier university graduate, and an HR executive at a massive corporate firm. I was just average. Plain, quiet, and completely ordinary. But I had absolutely no intention of giving that pendant to Phoebe just yet. When I got home, Phoebe glanced at my empty hands and scoffed. “Wow, he didn’t even buy you anything? I told you he was cheap. He takes you out and doesn’t even have the decency to spend a dime.” I ignored her, walked straight into my bedroom, and carefully tucked the jewelry box into my drawer. The moment I sat down, a notification popped up on my phone. Ross had finally accepted the friend request I sent the night before. I reapplied a touch of lip gloss, put on the gold pendant, and snapped a quick selfie for my Instagram story. Less than two minutes later, Ross liked the post. Outside my door, Phoebe was still complaining. “Thank God I sent Sophie. I would have died of boredom. The guy is broke and still has the nerve to chase me. He really doesn’t know his place.” Mom and Dad eagerly agreed. “Of course, sweetie. You are so successful. You are destined for much better things.” “From now on, we will just let Sophie handle his invitations.” I leaned against my bedroom door, feeling completely numb to their words. I was used to it. I was an unexpected pregnancy. Mom and Dad always felt guilty for not giving Phoebe their undivided attention and resources. Growing up, their favorite phrase was: “Sophie, don’t fight with your sister. She is older. Let her have it.” Phoebe got piano lessons, art classes, and expensive tutors. When I asked for a ten-dollar workbook for school, Mom called me a waste of money. Phoebe was now making a huge salary in the city, yet Mom and Dad still secretly transferred her a thousand dollars every month just to help out. Years ago, I secretly bought a bus ticket, hoping to move away and start my own life. My parents found it and shredded it into pieces. That night, I overheard them whispering in the kitchen. “Phoebe is going to marry into a good family one day. We cannot be a burden to her. Sophie is obedient. We will just keep her around to take care of us when we get old.” In their eyes, Phoebe was a delicate princess. I was just the human shield meant to absorb her problems and swallow all the unfairness. A week later, Ross invited Phoebe to go hiking. She rejected him without a second thought and pushed me out the door again. “Sophie, you go. Tell him my project deadline got moved up.” I didn’t complain. I changed into my gym clothes and headed to the trail. During the hike, I kept a steady pace. Whenever Ross fell behind, I would wait for him. I passed him water and offered him a towel when he was sweating. When the trail got steep and rocky, I gently reminded him to watch his step. The entire afternoon felt incredibly natural. I wasn’t trying to flatter him. I was just being myself. When we finally reached the summit, Ross looked out at the view and suddenly spoke. “Your sister isn’t busy. she just looks down on me, doesn’t she?” My chest tightened. Just as I opened my mouth to make an excuse, he laughed. “I sensed something was off the very first time we met. Today just confirmed it.” “Phoebe has never given me the time of day. She certainly wouldn’t be as patient and genuine as you are. I am done trying to force it.” He paused, his eyes turning incredibly serious as he looked at me. “Sophie, you are really special. How about we give this a real shot? Just you and me.” “Ross and I are officially dating.” When I broke the news to Phoebe, I casually pulled the gold pendant out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Consider this a thank you for making me go on those dates.” Phoebe stared at the jewelry, her brow furrowing in deep suspicion. “You bring home maybe three thousand a month after taxes, and you give Mom half of that. How can you afford something like this?” I gave her a sweet, innocent smile. “I dipped into my savings for you. Finding a decent guy in this town is hard. Ross makes good money, and he is a sweet guy. If we get married and budget carefully, we will have a pretty comfortable life.” She laughed, the sound dripping with thick sarcasm. “Wow, so I guess you should be thanking me.” “This is exactly your level of ambition. Picking up the trash I threw away and acting like you struck gold.” I lowered my eyes and stayed quiet. I had been listening to her mockery for over twenty years. I was completely immune to it. Once Ross and I made things official, we started having a standing Friday night dinner date. But lately, I was always running late. It wasn’t my fault. Ever since his messy divorce, my creepy office manager, Mr. Henderson, had been targeting me. Every Friday right before quitting time, he would dump a massive stack of paperwork on my desk. Worse, he would find excuses to brush against my shoulder or touch my hands while “reviewing” my work. One evening, Ross drove straight to my office building so I wouldn’t be late. The moment I walked out the glass doors, Henderson chased after me. He pretended to hand me a folder, deliberately rubbing his fingers across the back of my hand. I didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, I furrowed my brows, putting on a perfectly crafted look of helpless victimhood. I knew Ross had a clear view from the driver’s seat. A deafening honk shattered the quiet parking lot. Ross slammed his car door shut, his eyes burning with absolute fury. “Who the hell are you? Keep your hands off my girlfriend!” Henderson jumped back in sheer panic and practically sprinted back inside the building. The next morning, the office was buzzing with crazy rumors. Henderson had been permanently relocated to a miserable, rundown branch office in the middle of nowhere. My coworkers were whispering that he must have offended someone extremely powerful, because the transfer was immediate and he wasn’t even allowed to pack his own desk. That night, when Ross picked me up, I casually mentioned the office gossip. He looked at me, his eyes softening with warmth. “That was me. I am never letting anyone disrespect you.” That was the night he finally told me the truth about his background. His father was the county commissioner. His mother was the principal of the most elite private academy in the state. “I didn’t mention it during the blind dates because I hate people using me for my family’s money,” he explained softly. “I studied abroad for a few years and had a serious girlfriend. We were together for three years. But right before graduation, she found out I wanted to move back to our hometown to settle down. She called me an unambitious loser and dumped me.” “My parents are getting older, and they really want to see me start a family. That is why I agreed to the matchmaking.” Everything suddenly clicked. No wonder a guy with his looks and wealth was resorting to local blind dates. Ross suddenly reached across the console and took my hand. His voice was thick with emotion. “Sophie, I am telling you all of this because I am not playing games. I am dating you with the intention of marrying you.” Looking into his earnest eyes, I gave him a firm, confident nod. By our second month together, Ross took me to meet his parents. They were incredibly warm and welcoming. They adored me immediately and even slipped a massive cash gift into my purse before we left. Six months flew by, and we finally decided to tie the knot. When I told my parents, they barely looked up from the TV. They casually mentioned that money was tight and they could only give me a thousand dollars for a wedding contribution. I didn’t argue. I went straight to the bank, took out a personal loan, and bumped my wedding fund up to twenty thousand dollars. I refused to let anyone look down on me on my wedding day. More importantly, I refused to give Phoebe and my parents the satisfaction of seeing me look pathetic. The wedding day arrived. Ross’s parents had spent over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars booking the grand ballroom at the most luxurious country club in the county. The guest list was packed with the town’s most influential politicians and business owners. Even the director of my agency showed up, shaking my hand and offering his warmest congratulations. But as the ceremony time approached, my parents were nowhere to be seen. I was standing in the bridal suite, shivering in my heavy gown, feeling my chest tighten with anxiety. Finally, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mom. [Sophie, we aren’t coming. Phoebe suddenly spiked a high fever. We are driving to the city right now to take care of her.] [Besides, Ross’s parents are just trying to show off by booking that expensive club. We saw the smallest banquet room there once, and it is barely bigger than a closet. We would just be embarrassed if we went. Phoebe’s health is way more important.] My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. They hadn’t even bothered to read the wedding invitation properly. They were so subconsciously dismissive of me that they completely wrote off my husband and his family as nobodies. Thank God Ross’s family didn’t care about the slight. If anything, my mother-in-law was fiercely protective of me. Knowing I came into the marriage with very little money, she insisted I take total control of all the cash gifts given by the guests. It totaled over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. That was four times the amount my parents had secretly set aside for Phoebe’s future wedding. That night, I posted a stunning photo of Ross and me cutting the cake on my Instagram. The family group chat was dead silent. Not a single word of congratulations. A few hours later, Phoebe posted a picture of a bowl of chicken soup. The caption read: [Family will always be your safest harbor.] I wasn’t angry. I didn’t shed a single tear. I had a hundred and twenty thousand dollars in the bank. Money, as it turns out, is the greatest cure for a broken heart. Shortly after we got married, Ross noticed I was exhausted from my daily commute. He surprised me with a brand-new, seventy-thousand-dollar Mercedes SUV. One morning, I was parked outside my office. The sunlight looked beautiful hitting the flowers on the sidewalk, so I snapped a quick picture for my Instagram story. I didn’t realize a tiny piece of the steering wheel logo was in the frame. Phoebe immediately sent me a direct message with three question marks. [Where did you get a car? And a Benz at that?] My stomach dropped. Memories of childhood flooded back. Whenever Phoebe realized I had something nicer than her, she would completely destroy it. I swallowed my anxiety and typed back: [Just carpooling with a coworker.] Her reply was instant and dripping with venom: [LMAO. Doesn’t it make you feel pathetic? Riding your little e-bike to work while your coworker drives a Benz. Stop faking a lifestyle you don’t have. You get what you deserve.] I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I clicked on her profile. She had been working in the city for four years. Her salary was around ninety thousand a year. She loved posting photos looking glamorous and wealthy. But the reality was, she paid over three thousand dollars a month for a tiny studio apartment that didn’t even have a balcony, just so she could have a shorter commute. Her latest story was a blurry photo of cheap flowers bought from a subway station. I knew that subway line. Even at eleven o’clock at night, you were packed in so tight you could barely breathe. Another post was her complaining about spending forty bucks on an artisanal salad that left her starving an hour later. Meanwhile, I had a five-minute drive to work and came home to a massive kitchen with hot, gourmet meals every night. A good life is meant to be lived, not performed for an audience. Six months into our marriage, I found out I was pregnant.

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For the first three years of our marriage, my husband suddenly developed a profound interest in playing mahjong with his boss’s daughter. Whenever I confronted him about it, his defense was always the exact same script. “You’re an orphan. You don’t have a family to back me up, no connections, nothing. You can’t help me with my career at all.” He would follow it up with, “I’m playing cards to keep my boss happy. Isn’t that for the good of our family?” Then, after delivering those crushing blows, he would wrap his arms around me and sigh, playing the victim. “If you ever left me, you would truly be all alone in this world. Because honestly… who else would ever want you?” Eventually, I stopped arguing. I started pulling all-nighters, staying out late, and refusing to come home, telling him I was out playing mahjong too. At first, he thought I was just throwing a childish tantrum, waiting for me to break and come crawling back. Until one morning, we ran into each other at the front door—both of us returning from a night out. Panic finally set in. He begged me to stop leaving, promising he would stay home and keep me company every single night. Instead, I looked him in the eye and demanded a divorce. Because at the mahjong table, I hadn’t been wasting my time. I had found my biological father. He was a billionaire. And for the first time in my life, I finally had a real family. 1. It was past International Women’s Day. At 1:00 AM, I was sitting alone in the dark living room, staring blankly at the framed wedding photo on the wall. Gary still wasn’t home. Every year on this day, he used to buy me a bouquet and take me out to a nice dinner. This year? He wasn’t answering my texts, and my calls went straight to voicemail. I scrolled mindlessly through Instagram. My thumb suddenly stopped. Garyia Schwimmer, the daughter of Gary’s department director, had just posted a new story: “Luck is on my side tonight! Thanks for feeding me the winning tiles, Gary~” The photo was a selfie taken at a luxury mahjong table. Gary’s arm was draped casually over the back of her chair. Garyia was smiling so hard her eyes were practically squeezed shut. Someone had commented, “The chemistry between you two is insane.” Garyia replied with a blushing emoji. I locked my phone, tossed it face down onto the couch, and didn’t look at it again. At 6:00 AM, I heard the deadbolt click. Gary walked in reeking of cheap cigarettes and stale whiskey. The top three buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and his hair was a mess. I stood up from the couch. “You stayed up all night playing cards with her again?” He kicked off his shoes, not even bothering to look up at me. “Yeah.” “You’re spending seven nights a week playing games with another woman. Do you think that’s normal?” He finally lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with absolute irritation. “Whether it’s normal or not is none of your business. Do you know who her father is? My next promotion completely depends on him liking me!” My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak. Seeing my reaction, he walked over. His tone suddenly shifted, softening as he draped a heavy arm over my shoulders. “Aria, I know you feel neglected. But look at it logically. You grew up in an orphanage. You don’t have a family, you don’t have a dime to your name. You’re lucky I even married you.” “If you left me, who else would ever want you?” He had been repeating that exact phrase for a solid year. Every single argument we ever had ended with those exact words. It was like a dull, rusted knife sawing back and forth over the exact same wound. I didn’t say a word. Assuming I had surrendered like always, Gary kissed my forehead. “I’m taking a shower and going to bed. I’m exhausted.” I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, listening to the water running in the master bath. My mind drifted back to five years ago. We were still in college. He pursued me relentlessly. When I told him I grew up in the foster system and aged out of an orphanage, his eyes welled up with tears. He promised me he would give me a real home. During our senior year, he got down on one knee in front of my dorm building and proposed. He told me he had secured a great corporate job. He promised he would bring in ten grand a month, and that I’d get six thousand of it as my personal allowance. He told me I would never have to work a day in my life. I could just stay home and be happy. From the day I was old enough to work, I had been constantly hustling. Waiting tables, handing out flyers, working multiple shifts just to survive. He was the first person in my entire life who looked at me and said, “You don’t have to work anymore. I’ll take care of you.” So, I said yes. For the first two years of our marriage, he really was wonderful. Flowers on every holiday, dates every weekend. But during our third year, Garyia Schwimmer returned from a study abroad program. During a corporate dinner, Garyia tagged along. She wanted to play mahjong, and they needed a fourth player. Gary happily volunteered. The very next day, his salary—which had been stagnant for two years—was miraculously increased. From that day forward, whenever Garyia called for a game, Gary was at her beck and call. It started with Sunday afternoons. Then weeknights. Then all-nighters. I spent more and more nights sleeping alone in an empty house. At first, I fought him. I screamed and cried. But he always weaponized the same twisted logic to shut me down: “You can’t help my career. Is it a crime that I’m trying to climb the ladder myself?” “If you leave me, how are you going to survive?” “Who else is going to want you?” I walked into the guest bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror made my stomach drop. My hair was greasy and flat. My skin was a sickly, sallow yellow. My eyes were puffy, with dark, heavy bags dragging down my face. Three years ago, I was known as one of the prettiest girls in my graduating class. Gary wasn’t the only guy begging to date me. And now? I stared blankly at the hollowed-out woman in the glass. My eyes suddenly began to burn. Is this what I had let myself become in just three years? I was Aria Sterling. I survived the orphanage, paid my own way through college, and made it to twenty-four without relying on a single soul. How did getting married turn me into such a pathetic, helpless loser? 2. The next day, Garyia set up another game. Shockingly, Gary insisted on bringing me along. “I’m taking you so you can see that our relationship is completely professional. I want you to stop making up paranoid fantasies in your head.” He said the words confidently, but his eyes briefly darted away from mine. I didn’t argue. I actually put effort into my appearance that day. I wore a nice dress, tied my hair up neatly, and put on some light makeup. He drove us to an incredibly exclusive, private mahjong parlor. The decor was dripping in luxury. The second we walked in, I heard the crisp clatter of the tiles. Garyia was sitting at the head of the table. When she saw me, her eyes curved into a condescending crescent moon. “Oh wow, the wife actually showed up?” Gary chuckled nervously. “I brought her out to see the real world.” Garyia casually gestured to an empty chair. “Does the missus know how to play?” I shook my head. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Makes sense. Growing up in an orphanage, it’s not exactly a high-society hobby, right?” The other two players at the table suddenly found their phones incredibly interesting, refusing to make eye contact. Gary actually laughed along with her. “She had a rough childhood. She doesn’t understand this kind of culture.” My fingernails dug so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. I kept my mouth shut. The game started. I sat next to Gary, watching in silence. Halfway through the night, Garyia hit a losing streak. Her face grew visibly darker with every hand. She looked up, glaring directly at me. “Ugh. Having some people sitting right across from me is completely ruining my luck.” Gary immediately panicked. “Aria, go sit somewhere else.” He pointed to a plush sofa in the far corner of the room, leaning in to whisper urgently. “Aria, please. Just go sit over there and relax for a bit.” I gave him a long, dead look. Then I stood up and walked over to the corner couch. They resumed their game, laughing and joking as if I wasn’t even there. Every time Garyia lost a hand, she would playfully lean her weight against Gary’s shoulder. He never once pulled away. I sat in the dark corner, watching them. They finally called it quits at 1:00 AM. Garyia stood up, naturally hooking her arm through Gary’s. “Gary, drive me home? The streetlights in my neighborhood are out, and it’s too dark.” Gary glanced back at me. “Order an Uber and go home.” Without another word, the two of them walked out the door together. I stood alone on the curb outside the club, waiting for my ride. The night breeze cut right through me, and I pulled my jacket tighter. My phone buzzed. Garyia had posted a new story: “Thanks to my exclusive chauffeur~” The photo was a selfie taken in the passenger seat of Gary’s car. She was making a cute pouty face at the camera, and Gary’s profile was clearly visible in the rearview mirror. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I opened the photo gallery on my phone and stared at our wedding photos for a very long time. Then, I opened the camera app and took a selfie right there in the dark. I put the two images side by side. One was me three years ago, glowing in a white dress, my eyes full of life and hope. The other was me now. Wearing a cheap, pilled sweater, looking like a dead, dried-up flower that had all the moisture sucked out of it. I asked myself… is this really the comfortable life I had signed up for? Sitting alone every night, waiting for him to come home so we could scream at each other. After the fight, he would sleep like a baby while I laid awake staring at the ceiling. The next day, he went to work, and I sat alone in an empty house. A vicious, unending cycle that had lasted an entire year. My body, my emotions, my absolute core—none of it was being nurtured. I was rotting away. Once the realization fully hit me, I picked up my phone and bought a premium gym membership. I booked a personal trainer, committing to five days a week. I scheduled a manicure, eyelash extensions, and finally chopped off the long, dead hair I had been growing out for three years, styling it into a chic, bouncy bob. The woman in the mirror was slowly starting to look human again. Then, I opened a local social forum and posted a thread: “Looking for girlfriends to teach me how to play mahjong. Located in the city center. I have plenty of time and money. Once I learn the rules, I’ll gladly pay to play~” I hit post and tossed my phone onto the bed. For the first time in years, I genuinely felt like tomorrow might actually be interesting. 3. I got a direct message the very next morning. “Hey girl! I’m a regular at this super high-end private parlor by the river. The vibe is amazing. I can teach you the ropes if you’re down?” “I’m down,” I replied. We agreed on a time and place. I arrived early. It was a gorgeous, exclusive club right on the waterfront, the parking lot packed with luxury imported cars. I walked up to the front desk and paid for a private room. Just as I got the key, my phone buzzed. The girl texted me saying something came up and she had to cancel. I felt incredibly awkward as I walked back to the receptionist to ask for a refund. “No problem at all, miss. We hope to see you next time,” the receptionist smiled professionally. I turned around, ready to walk out the front doors. “We’re short one player. Do you know how to play?” I stopped and looked over my shoulder. It was a middle-aged man, probably in his early fifties. He was dressed in casual designer clothes, but he carried an aura of quiet, immense authority. He clearly wasn’t an average guy off the street. I shook my head. “No, I don’t. I came here today to find someone to teach me, but I just got stood up.” He offered a warm, genuine smile. “Perfect timing. I’ll teach you.” I immediately took a half-step back, my guard shooting up. A strange, wealthy older man randomly offering to teach a young woman how to gamble in a private room? Red flags everywhere. He immediately sensed my hesitation and gestured toward the open door of a nearby VIP suite. “My son and daughter-in-law are in there waiting for me. We won’t be alone. You don’t have to worry.” I still didn’t move. He fell silent for two seconds, his expression softening into something incredibly vulnerable. “To be completely honest with you… you look exactly like my daughter.” I frowned. He kept speaking, his voice quiet. “My daughter passed away the day she was born. When I saw you standing at the desk just now, I actually froze. I apologize if I’m being forward. If you aren’t comfortable, just pretend I never asked.” I looked at him closely. There wasn’t a single trace of malice or creepiness in his face. He just looked… sad. I thought about it for a second. It was broad daylight, the club was packed with staff, and there were security cameras everywhere. Why not? I followed him into the VIP suite. There were indeed two other people waiting. A young man, roughly my age, with sharp features that strongly resembled the older gentleman. Sitting next to him was a stunningly elegant young woman, clearly the daughter-in-law. The second I walked through the door, the young woman gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes went wide as saucers as she stared at me. The young man froze entirely, staring at my face in complete, stunned silence. The older man cleared his throat, taking control of the room. “Don’t be nervous, this is my family. This is my son, Julian. And his wife, Clara.” He turned to me with a kind smile. “My name is Wayne Schwimmer. What should we call you, young lady?” I offered a polite nod. “Aria Sterling.” Clara was still staring at me. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes suddenly welled up with tears, but she quickly looked down at her lap to hide it. Julian also broke eye contact, staying entirely silent. Wayne acted as if he hadn’t noticed their bizarre reactions, warmly gesturing to the empty chair. “Come, sit. We needed a fourth anyway.” As I sat down, Clara kept glancing at me, her eyes still rimmed red. I offered an awkward, apologetic smile. “Is something wrong?” She quickly shook her head. “No, nothing! It’s just… you look exactly like…” “Don’t overwhelm the poor girl,” Wayne interrupted smoothly. “Come on, let’s show her the ropes.” They were incredibly patient. They actually spent the next few hours teaching me the game. How to draw, how to call, how to meld tiles, and how to calculate the scoring. Clara had the patience of a saint. Even when I kept forgetting the basic rules, she explained them over and over again without a hint of frustration. Julian didn’t say much, but every time I was about to discard the wrong tile, he would gently tap the table and explain the strategy behind keeping it. Wayne barely looked at his own tiles. He spent the entire game watching my face, as if he were searching for something specific. As we played, we kept up casual conversation. They asked where I was from. I told them I grew up here in the city. They asked what I did for a living. I told them I was a stay-at-home wife. They asked my age. I said I was twenty-six. When they asked about my parents, I told them I was an orphan. Wayne’s hand stopped mid-air over the table. Clara shot him a loaded look, but didn’t say a word. I tried to flip the script. “What about you guys?” “Small business owners,” Wayne smiled warmly. “Construction and engineering,” Julian added smoothly. We played until 10:00 PM. I finally checked the time and said I needed to head home. “Will you come back and play with us again?” Wayne asked, his voice entirely sincere. I thought about it for a second. “I will.” As I was leaving, Clara walked me to the lobby. Right before we parted ways, she suddenly grabbed my hand. I froze, caught off guard. Her eyes were red again. “Aria… please. Please come back and see us.” I was a little bewildered, but I nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. I walked out of the lobby and headed toward the elevators. As I passed by a VIP suite with its door cracked open, I subconsciously glanced inside. I stopped dead in my tracks. Gary was sitting at the table. Garyia was leaning heavily against his shoulder, giggling as she fed him a slice of fruit off a silver platter. I didn’t stop walking. I didn’t turn back. A month ago, seeing that would have broken me. I would have run to the bathroom and cried until I threw up. Tonight? I didn’t feel a damn thing. 4. Gary finally noticed the shift in my behavior. I started leaving the house before he woke up and coming back long after he was asleep. Whenever he was home, I was out. He asked where I was going. I told him I was out playing mahjong. He asked who I was playing with. I told him I had new friends. His face instantly darkened. The breaking point hit one morning when we literally ran into each other at the front door. We had both been out all night. He blocked the entryway, his face twisted with pure, irrational anger. “Starting today, you are not allowed to leave this house.” I stared blankly at him. “Excuse me? On what authority?” He pulled out his phone and shoved his banking app in my face. “I’ve cut off your monthly allowance. I’m not transferring another dime. You’re going to sit in this house and rot. You aren’t going anywhere.” I blinked, genuinely stunned. It was true that he gave me six grand a month. I had managed to put a little bit away in savings over the years, but I absolutely relied on that money to survive. He let out a cold, venomous laugh. “Aria, do you think I’m an idiot? You’ve been acting completely insane lately. Are you sleeping with someone else?” I looked at the man I married, and suddenly, I found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. “Gary, when you started staying out all night playing cards, I asked you that exact same question. And you told me I was a paranoid, hysterical bitch.” He choked on his words, his face flushing red. I stepped closer, my voice completely dead. “I go out to play mahjong. I’m not sleeping around. Can you look me in the eye and say the same?” “My situation is entirely different!” he spat defensively. “I’m doing it for my career! I’m networking!” I didn’t waste another breath on him. I stayed home that night, but I didn’t sleep a wink. My mind was finally, crystal clear. This man was entirely worthless. When he proposed, he promised he would take care of me. He promised he would give me a safe, loving home. I bought every single lie. And now? He cuts off my money to starve me out, treating me like a prisoner in my own home, demanding absolute obedience. Who did he think he was? Was I a stray dog he had adopted? Was I a pet he could lock in a cage when he got bored of me? I needed a divorce. The next morning, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Clara: “Hey Aria, are you free today? My father-in-law said he wants to teach you some advanced strategies.” I stared at the message, hesitating for a long moment. Fine. I’ll go. One last time. Once I filed the divorce papers, I was going to have to work three jobs just to keep a roof over my head. I wouldn’t have the luxury of playing mahjong ever again. I arrived at the club and walked up to our usual VIP suite. I pushed the heavy mahogany door open, and instantly froze in my tracks.

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Tallie stalked my Instagram grid for four entire years. She was absolutely convinced I was a billionaire heiress living in secret. Right before graduation, she managed to get her hands on a bizarre, supernatural artifact. She secretly fed both of our names into this so-called “Wealth Swap System” and forcibly traded our bank accounts. She stared at me with pure triumph. Her tone dripped with arrogant entitlement. “Don’t blame me for being ruthless, sweetie. You’re the one constantly flexing those penthouses and designer bags online. A real rich girl like you won’t even miss this pocket change, right?” Right at that moment, my phone screen lit up with a notification. It was a $0.50 refund receipt from a cheap discount shopping app. I stared at that tiny number, completely frozen. I was just a broke college student faking a lavish lifestyle online! 1 Tallie slammed the glowing parchment onto my desk. Our names were scrawled across the vintage leather in bold ink. A bizarre, blood-red light pulsed over the letters. She loudly announced that the system was permanently bound. “Avery, starting right now, your billions belong entirely to me!” Every single asset to my name was currently transferring to hers. My mind went completely blank. I lunged forward to snatch the glowing parchment. Tallie dodged with ease and held the scroll high above her head. A mechanical, icy voice echoed out of thin air right inside our dorm room. “Wealth swap complete. The process is irreversible. Binding permanently active.” I frantically pulled out my phone and tapped my banking app. The $0.50 I had saved up to split a bulk order of toilet paper was completely gone. The screen displayed a massive, mocking zero. Tallie was practically drooling over the progress bar on her own phone screen. She erupted into hysterical laughter. “Yes! It’s rolling in! I can literally smell the money!” I looked up at her crazed expression and desperately tried to explain. “Tallie, you are out of your mind! I don’t have any money!” “Those limited-edition Birkin bags on my feed were rented with a bunch of other girls online!” “You just inherited a massive disaster!” Tallie smacked the desk, violently cutting off my warnings. “Keep acting! Keep playing the victim!” She quickly pulled up a screenshot I posted last night, showing a location tag at a Park Avenue penthouse. She shoved her phone screen so close it almost hit my nose. “You’re worth billions. You post skyline views from luxury real estate every single day!” “But in real life, you’re a cheapskate who steals my shampoo! You capitalists are all the same. The richer you are, the stingier you get!” Her screeching drew a crowd. Students from down the hall gathered outside our door to watch the drama unfold. Tallie spun around and proudly announced it to the entire floor. “Listen up, everyone! Avery just got stripped of all her family wealth by a magic system!” “She is a total, pathetic beggar now!” Instead of calling campus security, the crowd started pointing fingers and laughing at me. “I always hated her guts. Walking around with that fake humble attitude while carrying a Hermès bag.” “Exactly. I asked her for a loan once and she totally ignored me. Rich and greedy.” “Karma finally got her. Serves her right!” They fed off each other’s toxic energy, unleashing years of petty jealousy right at my face. I pulled out my phone and opened my messages, frantically trying to find the chat logs from my discount rental group. Tallie lunged forward and snatched the phone right out of my hand. She raised her arm high and smashed my phone directly onto the concrete floor. The screen shattered into a spiderweb of glass. Pieces of plastic scattered everywhere. “Do you honestly think faking some text messages will fool me, Avery?” “You’re just trying to fabricate evidence of being poor to stall for time until your rich family saves you, right?” “Well, it’s not going to work!” Tristan, the reigning frat-boy heartthrob of our department, pushed his way through the crowd. He usually spent his weekends trailing after me like a lost puppy. Now, he walked straight over and stood shoulder to shoulder with Tallie. He shoved me hard. I fell backward onto the floor. My palms scraped against the rough concrete, oozing warm blood. Tristan turned to Tallie with the most sickening, flattering smile I had ever seen. Then he pointed a finger down at me and started screaming. “Avery, I always saw right through your disgusting, elitist facade!” “You used to look at the rest of us like we were trash.” “Look who’s the actual trash now!” Tallie soaked up his loyalty with a wicked grin, laughing until she was out of breath. 2 Tallie immediately whipped out her credit card. The system required twenty-four hours to fully settle the swapped assets, so she decided to run up her own credit limit in the meantime. “Once my billions hit the account tomorrow, I’ll just buy the entire bank!” She made a call and ordered the most expensive omakase sushi delivery for the entire dorm floor. She purposefully left me out. Less than half an hour later, the delivery arrived. The mouthwatering scent of premium sashimi and seared Wagyu beef filled the stuffy room. The other girls swarmed Tallie, kissing the ground she walked on. Tallie picked up the most expensive slice of A5 Wagyu with her chopsticks. Holding eye contact with me, she casually dropped the premium meat straight into the garbage can. “Ugh, this cut is a little tough. I wouldn’t even feed this to a stray dog.” She gave me a condescending smirk. “And I’m definitely not feeding it to you.” I ignored her completely. I stood up, grabbed a cheap cup of instant noodles, and walked toward the water dispenser. Tallie gave Tristan a subtle look. Tristan rushed forward and snatched my thermos right out of my hands. “Beggars don’t get purified hot water. Go drink from the bathroom sink!” he sneered. Swallowing my boiling rage, I dug into my drawer and pulled out my old, cracked backup phone. I was going to dial 911. Tallie saw what I was doing and laughed like a maniac. “Call them! Go ahead and cry to the cops!” “The system’s magic overrides human laws!” “The police have zero jurisdiction over supernatural wealth transfers!” I ignored her nonsense and pressed the dial button. Before the call could even connect, Dean Rollins pushed his way into the room to investigate the noise complaint. Tallie didn’t even flinch when she saw the campus administrator. She simply opened her banking app and wired five thousand dollars directly into the Dean’s personal Venmo account. “Consider this a personal donation to the alumni fund, sir.” Dean Rollins looked at the notification on his screen. A massive, greasy smile spread across his face. He turned around and glared at me with absolute authority. “Avery! What is wrong with you? You have zero sense of community!” “Tallie is out here showing incredible generosity, and you’re starting fights in the dorms!” He refused to listen to a single word I said. Citing my “disruptive behavior,” he ordered me to pack my things and vacate the dorm building immediately. I stepped forward, fighting for my rights. “Sir, she stole my property and physically destroyed my phone!” “I demand you check the hallway security cameras right now!” The Dean frowned and looked at the crowd of students. Every single girl on the floor stepped up and lied through their teeth. “We saw the whole thing, Dean Rollins. Avery went crazy and smashed her own phone.” “Yeah, she even tried to attack Tallie.” Tristan casually walked over and brought his heavy boot down directly onto my backup phone, which had slipped from my hand. The satisfying crunch of breaking glass filled the room. The backup device was completely dead. “Oops. My bad. Didn’t see it there,” Tristan said, his voice dripping with fake apology. I was completely cut off from the outside world. I patted my empty pockets. I didn’t even have a few coins left to rent a campus bicycle. Tallie marched straight over to my closet. She ripped the doors open and dragged my suitcase out by the handle. She hauled it to the second-floor balcony and, without a second of hesitation, hurled it over the railing. A loud crash echoed from below. The suitcase burst open on the pavement. All my cheap, five-dollar discount clothes scattered across the road. A campus street sweeper drove by, drenching my entire wardrobe in filthy, muddy water. 3 That evening, the university hosted its grand graduation gala in the main auditorium. Everyone was dressed to the nines, glowing in tailored suits and sparkling dresses. I walked right through the front doors wearing the dirty, mud-stained t-shirt I had salvaged from the street. I was desperately looking for higher university officials to report the insane events of the afternoon. The moment I stepped inside, the spotlights snapped toward the entrance. Tallie made her grand entrance wearing a staggeringly expensive haute couture gown she had bought by maxing out her credit cards. The dress was clearly two sizes too small, digging painfully into her waist. Around her neck hung an absurdly massive diamond necklace. The blinding sparkle drew breathless screams from the crowd. “Wow! Tallie looks like a queen!” “Now that is what true old money looks like!” Tallie soaked up the worship. She strutted onto the stage in six-inch stilettos and snatched the microphone from the host. “Drinks and food for the entire night are on me!” “And I’ll be drawing ten random names tonight to win the newest flagship iPhones!” The room exploded into absolute chaos. Students chanted her name like she was a goddess. “Long live Tallie!” “Tallie is a legend!” Taking advantage of the screaming crowd, I shoved my way to the front row. I ripped a spare microphone out of a tech guy’s hands. I screamed into it with everything I had. “She is lying to all of you! That necklace is fake!” “My net worth is entirely in the red! All she inherited was a mountain of debt!” My voice echoed through the massive speakers, booming across the hall. The auditorium went dead silent for exactly one second. Tristan reacted instantly. He bolted backstage and ripped the power cord straight out of the soundboard. My microphone went completely dead. Two burly security guards, heavily bribed by Tallie earlier, charged at me from the shadows. They violently twisted my arms behind my back, locking me in a brutal hold. I thrashed and kicked, but their grip was like iron. Tallie strolled down the stage steps, casually holding a crystal glass overflowing with red wine. She stopped right in front of me. Her eyes were pure poison. With a flick of her wrist, she poured the entire glass of wine directly over my head. The dark red liquid dripped down my hair. It ran down my cheeks and soaked into my already ruined collar. The crowd erupted into vicious insults. “Get this broke loser out of here!” “If you’re jealous of Tallie’s wealth, just admit it! Stop seeking attention!” Tallie lifted her foot. She brought her razor-sharp stiletto heel down hard onto my sneaker, grinding it brutally into my toes. “How does it feel at the bottom of the food chain, Avery?” she whispered directly into my ear. Pain shot up my leg, bringing cold sweat to my forehead. I clenched my jaw, staring deadly daggers into her smug face. Tristan walked over and handed Tallie a silk napkin to wipe her fingers. “Don’t get your hands dirty on her, Tallie.” Tristan turned his head and gave me a look of pure disgust. “You’re nothing but a stray dog now. Get the hell out of our sight.” 4 The guards practically carried me out and tossed me onto the cold pavement outside the campus gates like a bag of trash. My bones ached. Every joint felt bruised. The freezing asphalt sent a violent shiver down my spine. Heavy raindrops began to fall, soaking me to the bone in seconds. I felt miserable, humiliated, and chilled to my very core. Meanwhile, Tallie and her sycophants had relocated to the presidential suite of the city’s most elite five-star hotel. Champagne. Caviar. Endless luxury. They were throwing the party of the century. Completely drenched, I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled on the concrete steps of a 24-hour convenience store. At least the small awning kept the worst of the rain off my head. Across the street, a massive LED billboard on the side of a shopping mall suddenly roared to life. The blinding light cut through the rain, illuminating the entire block. Tallie’s heavily contoured, arrogant face filled the gigantic screen. A moment later, her screeching, amplified voice echoed through the city streets. “Listen up, citizens!” “If anyone spots a homeless beggar named Avery out on the streets tonight.” “Make her get on her knees and beg for mercy. Send me the video.” “I will personally wire a hundred thousand dollars in cash to whoever does it!” A hundred thousand dollars. To buy my absolute humiliation. A group of shady-looking thugs sheltering from the rain down the block stopped talking. Their eyes darted between the massive glowing billboard and my shivering figure on the steps. Under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight, they recognized my face. Greedy, predatory grins spread across their faces. They pulled out their phones and started closing in on me. “Well, well. If it isn’t the hundred-grand princess.” The leader, a guy with bleached blonde hair, sneered as he stepped directly into my personal space. He grabbed my jacket, yanked me off the steps, and shoved me roughly against the brick wall of the alleyway. The cold brick dug into my spine. He raised his hand, winding up to slap me across the face. His phone camera was pointed right at me. The ultimate humiliation was seconds away. Right at that exact moment. Sirens wailed in the distance. The ear-piercing sound of police cruisers erupted from the direction of the luxury hotel downtown, tearing through the quiet rainy night. The blonde thug froze mid-swing. Everyone instinctively turned toward the flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the clouds. I lifted my head and looked past his shoulder, locking eyes with the digital clock inside the convenience store window. The minutes were ticking down to the absolute limit. The system’s 24-hour settlement period was entering its final five minutes. Over in the presidential suite, Tallie’s global livestream was hitting its absolute peak. She had burned cash to buy premium front-page promotion on the biggest streaming platform. She wanted a million live viewers to witness the exact second her billionaire status became official. On camera, Tristan and the Dean pushed their faces into the frame, looking like absolute clowns. “Keep your eyes peeled, chat! You’re about to witness real royalty!” Tristan screamed into the lens. Tallie sat like a queen on the velvet sofa, basking in the endless stream of digital gifts and toxic hype from the chat. The countdown hit the final ten seconds. Tallie raised a crystal flute of champagne and chanted along with her viewers. “Ten, nine, eight…” “Three, two, one!” “System settlement complete!” The massive screen in the livestream synced directly with Tallie’s banking interface.

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The border conflict had been raging for two years. My husband, Colonel Dominic, had been missing in action for three months. Then, without any warning, he walked right through our front door. The moment I saw him, shock and overwhelming joy flooded my chest. I rushed into the kitchen to bring out a steaming bowl of his absolute favorite homemade beef stew. He sat at the dining table in complete silence for a long time. Suddenly, he looked up and spoke. “Candy, I need you to go out to the old oak tree and dig up that metal lockbox. I need what is inside.” My hand froze in midair. The spoon I was holding nearly clattered to the floor. There was no lockbox. Dominic and I had completely fabricated that story years ago just to coax our five year old son into going to sleep. It never existed. 1 I stared dead into the eyes of the man sitting across from me. It was a flawless replica. The deep set eyes, the sharp bridge of the nose, even the faint shrapnel scar grazing his left cheek. Everything was perfectly identical. “What metal box?” I forced my racing heart to slow down, squeezing out a natural looking smile. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. His eyes were perfectly calm, even tinged with a familiar warmth. “Did you forget? When Sam was five and throwing those night tantrums. We buried it under the tree together to calm him down.” Cold sweat instantly drenched the back of my shirt. Seven years ago, Dominic had just been promoted to major. Sam was going through a phase where he would cry all night. Dominic spun a tall tale, telling the boy that a magical metal box was buried beneath the old oak tree in our yard, guarding a very important secret. He said if Sam was a good boy and went to sleep, the box would magically produce endless candies. Sam bought it and went right to bed. The next morning, we took out some sweets we had hidden in the cupboards and claimed the box had conjured them as a reward. But we never actually buried anything. Besides Dominic and me, absolutely no one knew about this. Even Sam had long forgotten the childish fantasy. There was never a third person in on the secret. Who in the hell was this man wearing my husband’s face? “Right, look at my terrible memory.” I lowered my head, taking a bite of food to hide the absolute ice forming in my eyes. “It is pitch black out there. I will go dig it up for you first thing in the morning.” “Let us do it tonight.” His voice dropped half an octave. “You are in that much of a rush?” I asked. “The military needs it immediately.” He locked eyes with me, his gaze dark and bottomless. “It concerns highly classified frontline intelligence. We cannot afford to wait a single minute.” I met his stare, my palms slick with sweat. “Alright. Finish your food and I will grab the shovel.” He nodded in satisfaction and picked up his bowl to finish the stew. I stood up and walked toward the back room. The second I turned my back to him, my expression hardened into stone. If this man was not Dominic, then where was my real husband? Three months ago, the Defense Department sent an officer to my door. They told me Dominic went missing during a classified black ops reconnaissance mission. No body was ever recovered. I had washed my face with tears every single day since, truly believing he was gone forever. And now, a counterfeit was sitting at my dining table wearing his skin, demanding a fabricated metal box containing “classified intelligence.” There was only one logical conclusion. Dominic had been captured. He had endured horrific torture. Enemy operatives had broken him down, demanding the location of vital military secrets. He must have held out as long as he could before feeding them this exact lie about the old oak tree, sending them directly into a trap. I just did not know if he was still breathing. The thought of the agony he must have suffered made my chest ache violently. I took a deep breath, stepping into the back room and forcing myself to remain collected. “The water is hot. Do you want to wash your face first?” I called out, feigning casual domesticity. “Sure.” He stood up and walked over to the washbasin. I handed him a towel. He took it and instinctively pinched the back of his own neck to stretch his muscles. My pupils constricted. Even the way his ring finger slightly curled outward when he rubbed his neck was an exact, chilling replica of my husband’s habit. He shrugged off his worn military jacket, revealing the thin white undershirt beneath. Through the sheer fabric, I could clearly see the nasty, coin sized exit wound scar on his left shoulder. I could even see the jagged red burn mark on his ribs, right where Dominic had spilled boiling water years ago. The disguise was terrifyingly flawless. If he had not mentioned that imaginary lockbox, I never would have suspected a thing. How much time, money, and surgical precision had the enemy poured into crafting this perfect clone? They were truly desperate for whatever intelligence Dominic was guarding. 2 “Why are you staring at me like that?” He finished drying his face and turned to me with a half smile. “Just looking at how much weight you lost.” I let my eyes redden. My voice choked up naturally, the tears coming on command. “It is rough out there on the frontlines.” He walked toward me, reaching out to pull me into a hug. I subtly took a half step backward. “We should really wait until tomorrow to dig that up.” His outstretched arms froze midair. “Candy. You are not listening to me.” He stared me down, his voice completely void of warmth. I forced myself to hold his gaze. I pulled a heavy black metal flashlight from my pocket and flicked the switch. Nothing happened. “The flashlight is busted. Bulb must have burned out.” I shook the heavy metal casing, keeping my voice perfectly even. “It is too dark out by the oak tree. I will not be able to see a thing.” He took a step closer, crowding my space. “Do we not have a kerosene lantern?” “Wind is too strong tonight. It will not stay lit.” I stared right back into his suffocating glare. “Why are you acting so frantic? The thing is buried in our own backyard. It is not going to grow legs and run away.” “Fine.” He suddenly smiled, though the warmth never reached his eyes. “We will dig it up in the daylight.” I let out a breath I had been holding, but the cold sweat had already glued my shirt to my spine. I needed to find a way out of this house to alert the authorities. But nearly every able bodied man in the county was deployed. The only two armed reserve deputies stationed in our rural town had been sent to the city to escort supply trucks. They were not scheduled to return until the day after tomorrow. What the hell was I supposed to do against a highly trained enemy operative? My biggest fear was that he would lose his patience in the middle of the night and simply slit my throat. I was not afraid to die. But our twelve year old son, Sam, was coming home from boarding school tomorrow afternoon. I had to protect my boy. “What are you thinking about? You are spacing out.” He suddenly spoke, shattering my train of thought. “Nothing at all.” I turned around to clear the dishes. “Where is Sam?” He sat heavily on the wooden dining chair, asking the question far too casually. My heart skipped a beat. “He is at his boarding school. He comes home tomorrow afternoon.” I tried my hardest to keep my voice flat and unremarkable. “Perfect.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the wooden table. “We can dig up the box tomorrow morning and have a proper family reunion.” A violent shudder ripped through me. I realized right then that if I failed to produce that box tomorrow, I was not the only one who was going to die. Sam would be murdered right alongside me. After washing up, he sprawled out arrogantly on the bed in the guest room. He patted the mattress next to him. “Come to bed.” He looked at me with a predatory smirk. I tightened my grip on the sewing scissors hidden up my sleeve. “It is my time of the month. I am a mess, and I do not want to ruin the sheets.” I kept my tone icy. “Plus, your shoulder is injured. I toss and turn in my sleep. I do not want to hurt you.” He narrowed his eyes, openly analyzing me. “Candy. It feels like you are avoiding me.” I squeezed the cold steel hidden in my sleeve until my knuckles ached, but managed to force a bitter, miserable smile onto my face. “Avoiding you?” I grabbed a blanket and pulled it over my lap. “You vanish for two years without a single letter. I have been raising our son alone, living like a widow, dealing with all the vicious gossip in this town. And now you just waltz back in. You do not ask how we survived, you do not care about the hell I have been through. All you care about is some stupid metal box!” A tear dropped perfectly onto the back of my hand. He blinked, taken aback. A fraction of the suspicion bled out of his eyes. “I was just anxious, that is all.” His voice softened into a practiced apology. “Get some sleep. We will take care of it first thing in the morning.” I kept my eyes open until the sun came up. 3 The sky was just beginning to turn grey. The rooster in the neighbor’s yard had just started to crow. He abruptly rolled out of bed, his eyes sharp as daggers. “Sun is up. Let us go get the shovel.” My palms were drenched. I frantically racked my brain for another excuse to stall him. Loud, aggressive pounding suddenly rattled our front door. “Candy! Is it true? Did Dominic really make it back alive?” It was the booming voice of Mrs. Higgins from next door. A massive wave of relief crashed over me. I practically ran to the front door and threw it open like it was a life raft. A massive crowd was gathered outside. Half the town had shown up. A dozen men and women were crowded on my porch, holding fresh eggs, homemade pies, and two massive clay jugs of high proof moonshine. “Dominic is a goddamn local hero! Thank the Lord he made it back in one piece!” The crowd surged into the living room, instantly swarming the imposter. A violent twitch rippled near the corner of his eye. But a second later, he plastered on a flawless, humble smile, shaking hands and greeting the locals. When Mrs. Higgins patted his scarred shoulder and started crying, he comforted her with the exact words my husband would use. This operative had been trained in psychological manipulation. It was terrifying to watch. Seeing my opening, I quickly dragged the large wooden table into the center of the room and set out a dozen heavy ceramic mugs. “Surviving the war calls for a celebration! Nobody is leaving today! We are drinking to Dominic’s safe return!” I cracked the wax seal on the moonshine. The harsh, eye watering smell of cheap, raw alcohol instantly filled the room. It was one hundred and thirty proof homemade liquor. Three glasses of this stuff could knock out a full grown horse. “Dominic, these good people came all this way to see you. You have to give them a proper toast.” I poured a mug to the brim and shoved it right into his chest. He stared down at the alcohol, a flicker of pure malice flashing in his eyes. “Candy, I am still recovering from my injuries. Plus… we still have that chore out by the oak tree.” He lowered his voice so only I could hear. I immediately raised my volume. “Oh come on! What chore is more important than drinking with the folks who kept this town running while you were gone? You are going to break their hearts!” The local men immediately started jeering and cheering. “Yeah! Come on Dominic, do not act like you are too good for us country folks now!” “Drink! Drink! Drink!” Trapped under the eager stares of a dozen locals, he had absolutely no way out. He gritted his teeth, took the heavy mug, and downed it in one long gulp. The harsh liquor instantly flushed his face with an unnatural, burning red. Just then, a voice called out from the front yard. “Mom! I am home!” My heart stopped beating entirely. The crowd parted. A twelve year old boy in a faded school uniform stood in the doorway, a heavy canvas backpack slung over his shoulder. Sam. It had been two years. Ever since Dominic deployed, we sent Sam to the boarding school in the county capital. The boy had not seen his father in twenty four months. Sam stared blankly at the man sitting at the table. The spy froze for a fraction of a second before his training kicked in. His eyes lit up. He threw his arms wide open, his voice thick with fake emotion. “Sam? Look how big you have gotten! Come here and give your old man a hug!” Sam did not move an inch. He stared intently at the face that perfectly matched his memories. He furrowed his brows, then shifted his gaze directly to me. I gripped my apron, looking at the child I carried for nine months with eyes full of absolute, silent pleading. Maybe it was a mother’s intuition connecting with her son. Sam’s furrowed brow suddenly relaxed into a bright grin. He dropped his backpack, marched straight up to the table, and grabbed the second mug of freshly poured moonshine. “Dad! I missed you every single day you were gone!” Sam raised the heavy mug with both hands, his voice ringing loud and clear. “You made it back alive today. I am giving you this toast on behalf of Mom! If you do not drink this, you do not love me!” A flash of extreme, violent irritation crossed the spy’s eyes. But he could not blow his cover in front of the whole town. He took the mug with a forced, painful smile. “Good boy. I will drink to that.” He swallowed it down. Then came the third mug. Then the fourth. The local men took turns stepping up, and Sam stood right beside him, sweetly calling him ‘Dad’ while pouring pure poison down his throat. The operative’s eyes finally began to glass over. He stumbled to his feet, trying to shove his way toward the backyard and the old oak tree. “Candy… the box… go get it…” he slurred, blindly swiping at the air. “Drink up, Dad! One more for the road!” Sam grabbed the man by the shoulder, using his leverage to force another half mug of burning liquor straight into his mouth. The spy coughed violently, staggering backward. Finally. He collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, his upper body crashing heavily onto the wooden table. He did not move another muscle. The living room was still loud and chaotic, but to me, the entire world went completely silent. I stared at his slumped back. I reached out and gave his shoulder a hard shove. Dead to the world. The cold sweat on my back had completely dried, leaving me freezing in my own clothes. Sam walked around the table, stepping close to me and gently tugging on the hem of my shirt. “Mom,” the twelve year old whispered, his eyes suddenly cold and sharp. “Dad swore off alcohol two years ago right before he deployed. The town does not know, but he made a promise to me.” A violent shudder ran through my entire body. I grabbed my son’s hand and squeezed it tight. The tears I had been faking earlier were replaced by real, burning emotion. He was unconscious. It was time for us to strike back.

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The family trip to the Bahamas was supposed to be a dream vacation. Instead, it turned into a nightmare when I was brutally mugged on the private beach. I woke up paralyzed, my spine shattered and my internal organs severely damaged. My teenage kids cried until their voices went hoarse. They immediately chartered a medical evacuation flight to bring me back to the States, swearing to find the best surgical team money could buy. But as I drifted in the hazy space between consciousness and the heavy sedatives, I heard my daughter, Sophie, whispering to my son, Connor. “It actually worked out, Con. It’s better she’s paralyzed. This way she won’t fight the divorce, and Dad can finally give Audrey the life he promised her.” My son let out a heavy sigh. “Well, Mom always made things so hard for Audrey. Dad said he’d pay for Mom’s care for the rest of her life. We’ve done right by her.” The words hit me like a plunge into freezing water. The violent mugging wasn’t a random tragedy. It was a trap, hand-crafted by the two children I loved more than life itself, all for the sake of their father’s long-time obsession, Audrey. 1 “The patient’s spinal nerves are severely traumatized, and she has multiple organ lacerations. We need to operate immediately with our neurosurgical team, otherwise…” My husband, Wes, cut the doctor off flatly. “Let’s stick to conservative treatment for now.” The doctor looked deeply uncomfortable. “Sir, your wife’s condition is critical. The golden window for nerve repair is incredibly narrow. If we miss it, she might never walk again.” Connor chimed in, perfectly mirroring his father’s grave tone. “Dad, Mom is still so young. We can’t let her spend her whole life in a wheelchair.” “That is exactly where she needs to stay.” Wes’s voice dropped to a vicious whisper. “Audrey has waited for me for twenty years in the shadows. I am not letting her suffer anymore. Only when your mother is permanently out of the picture can I bring Audrey home where she belongs.” He cleared his throat, raising his voice for the medical staff outside. “Just keep her stable with the best pain meds you have!” Lying on that sterile hospital bed, I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted copper. Tears slid silently down my temples into my hairline. The man who had stood at an altar and promised me forever was carving my heart out with a rusty blade. Everything suddenly made sick, twisted sense. His sudden burst of extreme affection over the last few months wasn’t him turning over a new leaf. He was just keeping me docile, clearing the final hurdles so he could replace me with the woman he actually wanted. And my own flesh and blood, the kids I would have taken a bullet for, were loyal only to a homewrecker. My three most trusted family members had formed a firing squad, and I was the target. The agony in my chest was so suffocating I gasped, triggering a violent coughing fit that felt like broken glass in my lungs. Wes burst through the door instantly. His face was a masterpiece of frantic concern. He wiped away my tears, his voice dripping with honey. “Victoria, sweetheart, are you in pain? Don’t be scared, I’m right here with you.” He stroked my hair with the exact same tenderness he used back when we first fell in love. Wes always deserved an Oscar for playing the devoted husband. Sophie sprinted out to the hallway, her voice frantic. “Nurse! Get my mom the strongest painkillers you have! She cannot suffer like this!” The sheer panic on their faces was flawless. Not a single crack in the facade. They were using this perfect, sickening performance to keep me locked in a cage of lies while they bled me dry. My heart cramped, and my grip on reality began to slip. The doctor rushed in, checking my vitals with practiced efficiency. Wes leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. “Victoria, the trauma is just too severe. I don’t trust these local surgeons. I’ve already pulled strings to fly in a top-tier team from Europe. We’ll wait for them to do the surgery, okay? It’s the safest route.” “I promise you, I will make sure you walk again.” A single, scalding tear escaped my eye. I couldn’t hold back the raspy, broken whisper. “Wes… will I really… stand up again?” His body went rigid for a fraction of a second. His eyes darted away, avoiding my gaze entirely. A moment later, he let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. “Victoria, when have I ever lied to you?” The physical numbness spreading through my limbs was nothing compared to the absolute zero of my dying heart. What else could I do? I closed my eyes, feigning exhaustion. “Okay. Whatever you say.” A relieved smile washed over his face. “That’s my good girl…” But before the words fully left his mouth, the doctor pulled back my hospital gown to inspect the gruesome wounds along my spine. Wes physically recoiled, color draining from his face. “How did she get butchered like this?” 2 The thugs had clearly treated my pain as a sport. They used jagged rocks and steel pipes, leaving a mosaic of bruised, broken flesh across my body. There was barely an inch of unbroken skin on my back. Connor turned his head away, faking nausea. Even the seasoned doctor hissed through his teeth. “Whoever did this had a serious vendetta. Ma’am, grit your teeth. The antiseptic is going to burn…” I shook my head weakly. “It’s fine.” Because the hollow cavity where my heart used to be had already forgotten how to feel pain. While the nurse dressed my lacerations, the muted voices of my kids drifted in from the corridor. “Are we really going to force her to sign over all her corporate shares now?” Sophie asked, her voice tight. “Look at her.” Connor was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his tone was dead and clinical. “We have to. The corporation is an empire Dad and Mom built together. We can’t let her hog all the control. Audrey has waited long enough, she deserves a proper title and a piece of the pie.” Tears blurred the harsh fluorescent lights above me. The nurse froze, her hands hovering. “Did I hurt you, sweetie?” I shook my head. I genuinely couldn’t tell if the raw flesh on my back hurt more than the gaping hole in my soul. The people who were supposed to be my anchor were not only perfectly fine with paralyzing me, but they were also actively plotting to steal the empire I had bled for. Were we a family, or were we mortal enemies locked in a cage? Within the hour, my personal assistant’s number lit up my phone repeatedly. When I finally managed to answer, her panicked voice filled my ear. Rumors were spreading like wildfire through the executive board that the physical trauma had triggered a complete psychotic break. Along with the texts came supposed “evidence” photos of me thrashing around in the hospital bed, looking absolutely unhinged. [If Victoria stays CEO in this state, the company is going straight into the ground!] [I always heard she was mentally fragile under pressure. Guess it’s true.] [Wes has to step up and take over the board right now. For the sake of the shareholders!] Every single message was a dagger twisting in my gut. My whole body seized in a violent tremor. Sophie rushed into the room, snatching the phone from my weak grip with a look of profound pity. “Mom, stop looking at that garbage. It’s just internet trolls.” Wes was already on his own phone, barking orders with righteous fury. “Find out who leaked this! I want heads rolling by morning!” Connor stood by my bed, his face a portrait of righteous guilt. “I’ve already got the PR team working on crisis management. Don’t worry, Mom. As long as we’re here, nobody is going to touch you.” Their synchronized routine was a masterclass in manipulation. Not a single missed cue. It made me want to vomit. Wes crouched down so we were eye to eye, his gaze intensely genuine. “Victoria, no matter what storms come our way, you will always be the love of my life.” Sophie nodded fiercely. “We love you so much, Mom!” The corporate PR fire was quickly put out online. But the poison had already seeped into the boardroom. My reputation as the ruthless, untouchable corporate queen was in ashes. Even if my body miraculously healed, they had ensured I could never reclaim my throne. Let alone walk back into the sunlight. The lead physician returned with my final scan results, his expression grim. “The spinal damage is extensive and likely irreversible. We’re seeing multi-organ stress, and the nervous system is…” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “The most pressing issue is a subdural hematoma pressing against her cerebral cortex. If the bleeding doesn’t stop, she could face permanent cognitive impairment.” Wes looked like he had been struck by lightning. “Cognitive impairment? You mean brain damage?” Sophie’s eyes welled with perfectly timed tears. “No… how could this happen?” They were thorough. They had orchestrated the perfect hit to shatter me both physically and mentally. That pristine, white sand beach was going to be the cage I rotted in forever. “Doctor, I don’t care what it costs,” Wes demanded, his voice thick with emotion. “You do whatever it takes to fix my wife!” “We will do everything medically possible,” the doctor promised. Wes, a man who built his career on stoic ruthlessness, openly broke down in tears beside my bed. “Stay with me, Victoria. I am never giving up on you!” I didn’t believe a single syllable. Once the room finally emptied out, I dragged my heavy, unresponsive hand toward the hidden panic button taped under the mattress rail. “This is Victoria. Initiate protocol Omega. Now.” Thirty minutes later, Wes rushed back in, his voice cracking. “Victoria, you’re awake? God, I was losing my mind, I thought we lost you…” He buried his face in my neck, practically suffocating me with his embrace. “I am not letting anything else happen to you!” As he pulled away, he shot Sophie a very specific, sharp look. She instantly whipped out her phone, gasping in manufactured delight. “Mom! That elite surgical team I called? They just boarded a private jet from London. They said there is absolute hope for your case! We’re getting you into surgery the second they land!” I stared at their lying faces, my own expression entirely hollow. They were only acting proactive now because they realized a brain-damaged wife would be useless to them. I needed to be somewhat lucid to legally sign over my assets to Audrey. I didn’t need their cheap, calculated mercy. 3 “Wes, just let it go.” He gripped the bed rails, his eyes wide. “Victoria, what are you talking about? This surgery is your only shot. If we don’t do this, you’re looking at a lifetime of paralysis and dementia.” I slowly shook my head. I was entirely past the point of caring. He opened his mouth to argue, but Connor pushed the door open, his face practically glowing. “Dad, Audrey is here.” Wes couldn’t suppress the flash of raw joy in his eyes. “Victoria, Audrey came to see you. Let me help you sit up.” He didn’t care that moving me sent blinding pain shooting up my spine. He cranked the bed up roughly, forcing me upright. My stomach churned with cold disgust. Audrey. The precious, untouchable ghost who had haunted my marriage for two decades. Wes had hidden her brilliantly. I only discovered her existence a few months ago when I intercepted a private email server. In their twisted little narrative, Audrey was a fragile, kind-hearted saint. Why would a saint come to visit the woman she was actively replacing? “Victoria, my god, are you okay? Wes and the kids have been absolute wrecks. I just had to come check on you.” Audrey floated into the room, a picture of delicate, helpless concern. My eyes immediately dropped to the potted plant in her hands. A sprawling, heavily thorned cactus. The universally understood symbol for isolation. For being untouchable and alone. Catching my stare, Audrey offered a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Victoria. I rushed over so fast, this was the only thing the hospital florist had left. People say cacti ward off bad energy. I hope you don’t mind.” She turned her doe eyes toward my husband. “Actually… Wes, could I grab a minute alone with Victoria?” She played the sweet, non-threatening angel flawlessly. Wes, naturally, melted. “Of course. Try to keep her spirits up.” The literal second the door clicked shut behind them, Audrey’s fragile mask vaporized. She stood over my bed, her eyes sweeping over my broken body with naked, euphoric triumph. “Who would have thought the great, terrifying CEO Victoria would end up a pathetic piece of meat strapped to a bed.” I met her gaze, my voice like crushed ice. “At least I’m not a cheap mistress spending her best years rotting in the shadows.” Her face twitched, a flash of ugly rage breaking through. “Call me whatever you want! I’m the one Wes actually loves!” “If he loved you that much, you wouldn’t have spent twenty years being my dirty little secret.” Audrey’s features contorted before settling into a cruel, jagged smirk. “You really don’t get it, do you, Victoria? Wes signed off on the kids’ little ‘accident’ plan. They were the ones who recorded your psychotic hospital freak-out and leaked it to your board.” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a venomous whisper. “And while those men were having their fun breaking your bones on that beach, while you were screaming into your phone begging your family for help? They were taking a lovely evening stroll with me.” “To them, Victoria, you are worth less than the dirt on my shoes.” Even though I had pieced it together, hearing the sheer brutality of it spoken aloud made my chest cave in. Audrey’s eyes glittered with malice. “If I were you, I’d just pull the plug. Do yourself a favor and hand over the title of ‘wife’ and the company shares peacefully…” She crossed her arms, waiting for me to shatter. To scream and cry. But my heart had already been reduced to ash. You can’t kill something that’s already dead. “You want it all? Take it. You can have the trash I’m done with.” Audrey let out a high, grating laugh. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. The board has already restructured. Wes has absolute controlling interest now. And you… you get to be a crippled vegetable for the rest of your miserable life.” “But honestly… that’s not enough for me. I want Wes and the kids to actively despise you.” Before I could process her words, she took two steps backward and violently slammed her own forehead into the sharp metal corner of my medical cart. Blood instantly poured down her face. As she collapsed to the floor, she hissed one final thing at me. “By the way, Wes only wanted you a little banged up. I’m the one who paid the thugs extra to make sure you wished you were dead.” I stared down at her, every ounce of sorrow vaporizing, leaving behind nothing but cold, absolute absolute malice. A second later, Audrey let out a bloodcurdling, theatrical scream that echoed down the hallway. Wes smashed the door open, shoving a massive heart monitor out of the way to dive onto the floor next to her. “Audrey! Oh my god, what happened?!” Connor and Sophie sprinted in right behind him, instantly screaming for my doctors to come save Audrey. Their entire universe revolved around the woman bleeding on the floor. Not a single one of them noticed that Wes had violently shoved the heavy heart monitor directly onto my broken arm, reopening my surgical stitches. Blood was soaking through my sheets. Audrey clutched her forehead, sobbing hysterically. “Don’t be mad at Victoria! It was my fault, I said the wrong thing and triggered her! Victoria, I’m so sorry, please don’t hurt yourself anymore…” Wes’s face morphed into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. He glared at me like I was a monster. “Audrey came here out of the goodness of her heart to comfort you, and you actually assault her?! You ungrateful bitch!” Connor looked at me with profound disgust. “You really have gone insane, Mom. You deserve exactly what you got. If Audrey needs stitches, I swear to God I will never forgive you.” They scooped her off the floor and rushed out of the room, leaving a trail of her blood behind. They didn’t look back once. Good. Let this be the end. The next time we cross paths, it will be a bloodbath. Wes dragged Audrey through every scan the hospital offered, only remembering I existed when the doctors confirmed she just had a superficial cut that wouldn’t even scar. I heard him tell Sophie in the hallway, “Go buy your mother some of that overpriced organic soup she likes. I was a little harsh earlier, she’s probably throwing a pity party.” Ten minutes later, Wes’s phone rang. It was Sophie. “Dad! Mom is gone! She left a letter from a massive corporate law firm on the bed! And Dad… our stock is tanking. A shell corporation just launched a massive hostile takeover of our entire firm!”

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On my way home from work, a luxury car hit me, fracturing my arm. The driver then falsely accused me of trying to extort money. Halfway through my emergency surgery, the male driver forcefully dragged me to court. “Do you know how much the car My wife bought me cost? Five million! My wife is the best lawyer in the entire country; you’ll be bankrupt by the time this is over!” From the defendant’s stand, my vision kept blurring. The pain was beyond anything I had ever felt. The next second, a female lawyer rushed in, shielding the man behind her: “Your Honor, my husband would never intentionally hit someone. This must be an attempt at fraud, and it deserves severe punishment.” Watching that familiar back, the blood in my veins turned to ice. The elite lawyer, impeccably dressed in a suit, was none other than Lester, my wife, who had told me she was on a business trip in Europe. With her soothing words, the man, Cedric, looked even more aggrieved as he pointed behind her. “It’s him! He got blood all over the new car you gave me. It’s disgusting!” Lester turned her head in the direction he pointed. One glance, and the anger in her eyes turned to shock. But three seconds later, she quickly composed herself, her expression so cold it made her a stranger to me. “I am Mr. Cedric’s defense attorney. Please direct all your questions to me.” My wife, with whom I had shared a bed for five years, was suddenly speaking with such detachment. All my questions instantly choked in my throat, leaving me unable to breathe. A while ago, she called to say her company had transferred her to a neighboring city for a business trip, with a doubled salary. My calls often went unanswered, and my messages unreturned. Even when I was sick, I went to the hospital alone, running up and down the floors five or six times. It turned out she was building a family with another man. The thought sent a sharp pang through my wound, and I couldn’t help but hunch over. Lester finally noticed my horrific injury. “This is…” Cedric abruptly cut her off. “Anyway, a good-for-nothing like him wouldn’t be affected by a broken arm.” “But my car cost five million, Lester. He has to pay for the damages!” I clenched my fists, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. Lester had told me her family was deep in debt and had lost everything, and that I’d have to make sacrifices for a while. I had been frugal, and the thought of having children in the future made me so anxious I relied on medication to cope. Now, it seemed my efforts were nothing short of a clown act compared to that five-million-dollar luxury car. “Lester, I want him to compensate me and apologize.” The man confidently wrapped his arm around Lester’s waist. And I stood by, my heart in my throat. Lester looked conflicted, as if she wanted to stop him, but seeing his insistence, she forced a doting yet helpless smile. Lester looked at me, her eyes filled with a warning. “Just apologize.” I froze, my limbs turning cold. I had lost an arm, yet she was telling me to apologize to the person who had maimed me. At the judge’s urging, I stiffly bowed. “Mr. Cedric, I’m sorry.” The man ignored me, instead affectionately wrapping his arm around Lester’s slender waist. “You couldn’t pay for the car repairs even if you gave your life. Three hundred thousand. Consider it a lesson learned.” Hearing the exorbitant sum, my heart froze completely. Lester watched him dotingly, not sparing me another glance. She seemed to have forgotten that I once sold off all my assets to gather medical funds for my mother, and even then, I couldn’t come up with three hundred thousand. Clutching the fine, I walked out of the courtroom alone. It wasn’t until a Maybach sped past me that I snapped back to reality. A SnapChat message popped up from Lester: “We’ll talk properly when I get home. Don’t let him find out.” Tears silently streamed down my face. The endless nights working overtime until dawn, the five years of tirelessly nurturing our home, had all become a cruel joke.

As I entered the hallway, I saw movers carelessly throwing my luggage out. I rushed forward to stop them. “What are you doing? Stop it!” Just then, Lester, dressed in a haute couture suit, calmly walked out of the house. “You should move out for a while. It’s for your own good.” I trembled, my voice hoarse. “Was five years of lying not enough? Are you trying to drive me to ruin? Do you have a heart at all?!” Lester briefly closed her eyes, exhaling helplessly. “Can you stop making a scene?” “Cedric and I are bound by a family arrangement. I hid you away for your own good, you understand, right?” “As for this entire building, I actually bought it for Cedric, but now that he knows about you, you’ll eventually be discovered if you stay here.” My eyes blurred with tears, but her words became even clearer. Every word pierced my heart, leaving me raw and bleeding. The house that held five years of beautiful memories had never truly been mine. As she left, Lester tossed a set of keys at me. “My assistant will take you. You can stay in the suburbs for now. Don’t be difficult.” Watching her retreating figure, I picked up the keys and powerlessly threw them at her. I never imagined my wife, my partner through thick and thin, could become so hateful. Lester’s assistant took me to a lavish villa. The moment I stepped inside, the assistant locked the door behind me. My eyes landed on a huge family photo of three people. Lester and Cedric were smiling brightly, holding a three-year-old child. No wonder every time I brought up having children, she would look resistant and quickly change the subject. It turned out she already had a son. Seeing the date on the photo, my heart sank to rock bottom. That day, my father had died of a sudden heart attack, and I desperately called Lester from the hospital corridor. I cried until my voice was hoarse, but her tone was dismissive. “I’m sorry, my boss sent me on another business trip. I won’t be home for another week.” She hung up quickly, without even a proper word of condolence. It turned out that while I was at my most heartbroken, she was taking family photos with Cedric and their child. I uncontrollably smashed the photo frame and knelt on the floor, weeping silently. After my tears dried, I pulled out my phone to contact a lawyer. “Please draft a divorce agreement for me.” I stared at it self-torturingly for a long time before realizing that fresh blood was gushing from my unhealed wound. I instinctively dialed Lester’s number. The first call was hung up; the second went straight to voicemail. The pain was so intense I passed out. Just then, two or three bodyguards burst in, forcibly dragging me into a car. The car sped all the way to the hospital. In the ward, they tied me up. Until an alarming needle appeared before my eyes, I struggled desperately. “What do you want from me?!” The next second, Lester’s fierce face entered my vision. “I warned you not to upset Cedric, but you insisted on taking risks.” “Now Cedric knows about you and just tried to slit his wrists. I know you have a rare blood type. We need to draw your blood to save him immediately!”

“Doctor, do it now!” I barely managed to open my eyes, only to see her face was deathly pale, her lips trembling as she spoke. I had never seen her so frantic. Before I could struggle, a thick needle pierced my vein, and pain spread from my arm to my entire body. Due to excessive blood loss, I quickly lost consciousness. I don’t know how long passed, but I woke up to a sharp, severe pain in my lower body. “What… what happened to me?” Seeing the bloody mess below me, a terrible premonition crept into my heart. After my persistent questioning, the doctor finally spoke with difficulty. “Mr. Cedric was very angry after learning about your identity and insisted you undergo a vasectomy. Ms. Lester signed the consent form.” In that instant, I felt the world spin. Simply because of a petulant remark from Cedric, Lester would go to such an extreme. I violently vomited a mouthful of blood. Just then, my phone vibrated frantically. I opened it and saw an overwhelming torrent of insults. “Rub yourself with steel wool if you’re so desperate. Is another man’s wife really that great?” “These days, affairs are so blatant. Just a few days ago, he was trying to extort money!” Words like “homewrecker” and “scum” flashed across the screen. I couldn’t believe it. I was Lester’s legally recognized husband. Why should I bear such infamy? I painfully posted my marriage certificate online, detailing the timeline of my relationship with Lester. To my surprise, someone online circled the seal on my marriage certificate. “This is clearly fake! What a cunning homewrecker!” I was too shocked to speak, zooming in to confirm. The next second, Cedric publicly posted hismarriage certificate online, specifically highlighting its embossed seal. At the same time, Lester called. My question blurted out. “Lester, is his marriage certificate the real one?” Back then, my mother was gravely ill, and her greatest wish was to see us get married. We went to City Hall together. She held my hand, solemnly swore, and promised to be with me for life. Now, she cruelly said: “I have to give him an explanation. I can’t just let him follow me without any status.” “You’re different. You’ll stay by my side no matter what. Let’s not dwell on these things right now.” From her end, I heard the sound of things being smashed. “Cedric is very unstable right now. Quickly apologize to him and admit you’re the homewrecker.” Hearing those words, I was so shocked I was almost breathless. “I’m the one who’s been deceived for five years! Why do you think I would apologize?!” Lester suddenly sneered on the phone. “Because your mother is barely alive thanks to my money and medical resources. Think about it!” The call ended, and I collapsed powerlessly beside the bed. My mother’s illness had recurred repeatedly, with each hospital visit costing tens of thousands. Lester had covered all her medical expenses, even making time to visit her at the hospital, no matter how busy she was. “Ethan, don’t stress too much. Your mother will get better.” But now, she was using my only living relative to threaten me. With injuries all over my body, I checked out of the hospital and desperately searched for work. When people saw me, they furiously threw trash and vegetable scraps at me. “Who would hire someone so morally corrupt? Get out!” “He’s promiscuous! Who knows what dirty diseases he might have!” I had become a rat scurrying across the street, despised by everyone. The news reached my mother’s ears. She called me, her voice weak. “Don’t beg her for my sake again…” The piercing sound of medical equipment grated on my nerves. I held back my tears. “Mom, don’t worry about me. I have to go now!” Finally, I found Lester. Seeing my compromise, the woman smiled with satisfaction and handed me a written statement. “After you confess to being the homewrecker live, I’ll compensate you.” As soon as she finished speaking, reporters aimed their cameras at me, frantically snapping photos. I couldn’t believe it. “How is this any different from a public execution?!” Lester’s voice suddenly dropped very low, gentle yet cruel enough. “If you don’t want to go live, that’s fine. Then go admit to your mother that you’re the homewrecker. Didn’t she always hate homewreckers the most?”

In an instant, my heart clenched violently. She knew full well that my mother’s illness had stemmed from finding out about my father’s affair. If she knew my “identity” now, it would be tantamount to killing her! My mother was the only family I had left in this world. I couldn’t stand by and watch her die. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat, shuffled my steps, and knelt before Cedric for the cameras. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cedric. I ruined your family. I am shameless.” “I… am… sorry.” I felt like a dog with no dignity. After it was over, I looked up, glaring at Cedric’s smug face, then at Lester. “Is this apology… sufficient?” Lester’s chest visibly rose and fell. She cleared her throat and tossed a bank card at my feet. “Three million should be enough. Take it to save your mother.” I snatched the bank card and raced to the hospital. Seeing my mother’s pale face on the bed, I trembled like a leaf. I frantically handed the bank card to the doctor. “Doctor, please, you have to save her!” A few minutes later, the doctor returned with the bank card. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve tried several times, and it’s not working. This card has been frozen.” I didn’t have time to think. I pinned my hopes on the gold ring on my wrist. “This ring must be worth a lot. It’s pure gold!” But the doctor just glanced at it and looked at me with pity. “Sir, you’ve been scammed, haven’t you? This is clearly fake.” The crisp sound of the ring hitting the floor struck my heart. Three months ago, for my birthday, Lester had bought me this ring after I pestered her. Even after publicly admitting I was a homewrecker, I hadn’t brought myself to sell it for my mother’s medical expenses. It turned out that in Lester’s eyes, I was utterly worthless. The next second, the monitoring equipment emitted a piercing alarm. My mother closed her eyes, and my grief-stricken cries spread from between my teeth. I held the urn, my expression numb, and walked toward the rooftop. A SnapChat message popped up from Lester: [Sorry, I’m at the hospital with Cedric for his IV. I’ll go see Mom once he falls asleep and tell her not to worry.] [I’ve bought you a new house. You can tell me anything you want.] [Cedric said he can compromise. I’ll make more time for you in the future.] I didn’t reply. The cold wind on the hospital rooftop ruffled my hair as I took step after step toward the edge. “Lester, there’s truly no future for us anymore.” With those words, I smiled and jumped from the hospital rooftop. At the same time, inside a hospital room. Lester inadvertently looked out the window. Just a glance, and her pupils suddenly constricted.

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My husband Giovanni and his first love, Christine, died in a car accident, leaving me with a pair of illegitimate sons. Eighteen years flew by. I painstakingly raised those boys, even sending them to Harvard. But the day they got into Harvard, Giovanni and Christine, who had supposedly died years ago, returned. Christine, holding Giovanni’s arm, smiled sweetly. “Thanks to your careful upbringing, my sons got into Harvard.” “Without you, we couldn’t have enjoyed ourselves for so long…” Later, Giovanni asked for a divorce, wanting to marry Christine and reunite their family of four. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just smiled faintly: “Fine by me!” “Mom! Mom! We got in! We got in!!” I was preparing dinner when I heard my two sons shouting loudly from the study. “Mom! Gabriel and I both got into Harvard!” They ran out of the study and hugged me tightly. I looked at my sons, who were a head taller than me, with pride. “You two are amazing; you’re my pride and joy.” Giovanni had died many years ago. As a single mom, I had raised two children alone for eighteen years. Now, seeing them get into a top-tier university, I couldn’t have been happier. Back then, Giovanni and his first love, Christine, both supposedly died, leaving me with a pair of twins. Against everyone’s objections, I insisted on raising Giovanni and Christine’s illegitimate sons. Eighteen years passed in a blink, and the two boys grew into young men. With my painstaking nurturing, they even got into Harvard. Now that I’d raised them into successful young men, I was overjoyed. “Mom, thank you for all your hard work raising us these past years…” “Yeah, if it weren’t for your careful guidance, we wouldn’t be where we are today…” My sons were always thoughtful, feeling for the struggles I’d endured raising them. They promised that once they graduated and found good jobs, they’d make sure I could live comfortably in my old age. Watching them, I remembered that their birthday was in two days. I decided to throw them a grand birthday party, a good excuse for a celebration. I booked a banquet hall at the city’s best restaurant. Meanwhile, I posted the news about my sons getting into Harvard in our family SnapChat group. As soon as the message went out, the group instantly flooded with replies. “Eric and Gabriel really made us proud…” “If Giovanni knew, he’d be thrilled in heaven.” I quickly scrolled through the messages, then sent the location of the banquet hall to the group. After doing all that, I muted my phone notifications. I quietly awaited the birthday party…

The birthday party was scheduled for 10 AM two days later. Early that morning, I arrived at the restaurant. I double-checked the menu and the event schedule, making sure nothing was overlooked. Most of the attendees today were Giovanni’s relatives. My own parents hadn’t come. Years ago, I’d gone against their wishes to adopt these illegitimate sons, and my parents had nearly had heart attacks when they found out. Even after all these years, they still didn’t understand why I chose to jump into a burning pit, raising someone else’s children, instead of living a normal life. Ivan and Ruth arrived in the hall, supported by others. They headed straight for the head table and sat down. Simon, Giovanni’s brother, and Julia, his sister, with their families, sat on either side. They crowded around my sons, leaving no room for me. “Elliotte, what are you waiting for? Pour drinks for Mom and Dad.” Julia grabbed some nuts from the table and glanced at me. She hadn’t married well, not only suffering domestic abuse but also being scorned for not having sons. Now, at the ripe old age of 40, she’d tried for a third child and finally had a son. Of course, she started acting all high and mighty, walking with a newfound confidence. My two sons, sitting in the middle, tried to stand up and help. But Ivan and Ruth immediately pressed them back down. “Eric, Gabriel, come on, chat with me.” “Look at these two handsome young men, so much like Giovanni.” “I think they look more like Christine,” Simon interjected. Ivan and Ruth shot him a fierce glare, and he quickly shrank back into his seat, not daring to speak. I circled the main table, serving tea one moment, pouring drinks the next. My sons couldn’t bear to watch any longer, so they pulled up a chair between them and pressed me into it. “Mom, our birthday is your day of sacrifice. Please sit down and rest.” At these words, everyone at the table had varied expressions. Julia even let out a mocking smile. “If Giovanni knew Elliotte raised his sons so well, he’d be thrilled.” “Ahem, ahem.” Ivan cleared his throat twice, and Julia closed her mouth. “Elliotte, on such a wonderful day, I have something I want to talk to you about,” Ruth said, her eyes darting, looking at me with a smile. “Please tell me.” “You see, Eric and Gabriel are going off to college soon. It must be so empty living in a three-bedroom house all by yourself.” “Once they start school, your dad and I will move in. I’ll cook for you while you’re at work.” So that was Ruth’s plan. My parents had paid for the house I lived in. It was originally supposed to be in Giovanni’s name. But six months into our marriage, he drove off with his first love and got into a car accident. Both of them died. The next time I saw him, he was just a handful of ashes. My parents saw how hard it was for me and helped me with the mortgage, so the house was only in my name. Now that the kids were grown, they were eyeing my house. “Mom, it’s not that I won’t let you stay. Eric and Gabriel will be studying abroad in the future. So I’ve already sold the house and plan to move into a one-bedroom apartment, using the remaining money to fund their education.” Ivan’s face turned ashen, and he slammed his hand on the table. “You’re Giovanni’s daughter-in-law! Why didn’t you discuss such a big matter with the family?” I looked surprised. “Isn’t everything I’m doing for Giovanni’s children?” “What about the money from the sale? Put it with me; I’ll save it for you. I don’t trust you with money; you’re too careless,” Ruth said. Normally, if I framed everything as being for the children’s good, they usually wouldn’t object. But today, Ivan and Ruth were acting unusually, as if now that their sons were in college, I was no longer needed. Thinking about this, I calmly said, “I’ve entrusted the money to a lawyer and put it into a growth fund. Every month, Eric and Gabriel will receive $10,000 until they turn 40.” When Ivan heard this, his tightly furrowed brows relaxed. “At least you have some foresight, knowing to save the money for my grandsons. And don’t buy another house; just rent one. Don’t waste money.”

Just as they were still going on and on, the restaurant manager walked over and handed me a microphone. “Today is a birthday party and a celebration of their college acceptance. As their mother, please say a few words and share some parenting wisdom.” I took the microphone. “Thank you all for attending the college acceptance celebration for my sons, Gabriel and Eric. Today…” “Today, my two sons got into Harvard. On such a wonderful day, what kind of celebration is it without their biological parents here…” I was halfway through my speech when I was interrupted. A man and a woman, holding hands, walked in. I looked up. Even after eighteen years, I still recognized them: One was Giovanni, supposedly dead for many years, and the other was Christine, Giovanni’s first love. The hall immediately erupted in gasps, followed by murmurs of discussion. Ivan and Ruth, seated at the head table, didn’t seem excited to see their son, supposedly returned from the dead; instead, they were unsettlingly calm. They even pulled Christine to their side and had her sit down. Giovanni, who had been dead for 18 years, came over to me. “Elliotte, you might not have been a great wife, but you were a damn good mother.” At this point, my two sons finally snapped out of their daze, watching the scene unfold. “What’s going on?” Giovanni pointed at Christine. “She’s your real mother. This woman is nothing but a barren old hen.” “If she hadn’t threatened to die if I left her, our family wouldn’t have been separated for eighteen years!” Before I could say anything, Giovanni’s family members started talking over each other to my two sons: “That’s right, Elliotte dragged her feet and refused to divorce Giovanni back then, which is why you were separated from your biological parents for eighteen years…” “Don’t let Elliotte fool you; she might have raised you well, but she’s got a wicked heart.” “Now it’s all good. You two are grown and got into Harvard, and our family can finally be reunited.” My sons were confused, standing there bewildered, unsure what to do. Christine pulled her sons’ hands, crying softly, and then pulled out her phone: “I’m your biological mother! I’d send you gifts every year. I even secretly watched you after school.” As she spoke, she turned to me. “Elliotte, thank you for raising my two sons so well.” Giovanni put his arm around her shoulders, and his eyes held a flicker of mockery as he looked at me. “Come with me to file for divorce. It’s been eighteen years. I’m going to marry Christine and give her what she deserves.” Everyone expected me to disagree, even to throw a fit. But facing the dozens of Giovanni’s relatives gossiping and the onlookers’ staring eyes, I just smiled faintly. “Fine! I agree. We’ll go get divorced tomorrow, so your family of four can be reunited.” My words stunned everyone in the hall. All eyes were on me, dumbfounded. Would I really just hand over the sons I’d painstakingly raised for 18 years? Even Giovanni and Christine stared at me in disbelief. They thought I’d rant and rave, crying dramatically, but they never expected me to agree so readily. Giovanni looked at me incredulously, asking, “What the hell is wrong with your head?” Facing his accusation, I simply said, “What? Not happy about it?” Christine immediately tugged Giovanni’s arm. Giovanni understood. He quickly pulled out an agreement from his bag, afraid I’d change my mind. “Then sign the divorce agreement. From now on, the two sons have nothing to do with you, and you are not to see them again.” I didn’t even read the agreement, simply signing my name at the bottom. “Mom? Mom, you don’t want us anymore?” My sons looked at me sadly, not understanding why I’d signed so easily. Christine carefully put away the agreement. “Elliotte, thank you for making us complete.” “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have been able to live it up so freely all this time.” Looking at my two sons, Christine grinned, a triumphant smile on her face. “Alright, you’re done here. You can leave now,” Ivan said impatiently, waving his hand to dismiss me. “Wait,” I began. “Now that the agreement is signed, it’s time for you all to know the truth.” “What do you mean?” Christine asked, confused. I sighed in relief. I had waited eighteen years for this moment. It was time for it all to end. Then I clapped my hands and spoke towards the main entrance: “Come in.” A few seconds later, two figures appeared in the hall…

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