Category: English

The contractions felt like a rusty saw dragging back and forth across my lower abdomen. Every breath I took tasted of thick, metallic blood. I was lying in the delivery room of Vance Private Hospital. Cold sweat had long soaked through my thin hospital gown. Outside the door, I heard the nurses whispering in hushed tones. “The guy in the VIP suite is out of his mind. He’s actually forcing his wife, who’s in active labor, to hold it in.” “Hold it in? How do you even do that?” “By injecting a massive dose of contraction inhibitors. Apparently, his childhood sweetheart is getting an MRI, her claustrophobia kicked in, and she’s crying and screaming for him to be there.” “Is he insane? His wife is about to give birth! Forcing her to delay labor could kill both mother and child!” “Shh, keep your voice down. He’s Luke Carter, the youngest Vice President of our hospital. Word is he’s also the CEO’s son-in-law. We can’t afford to mess with him.” The nurses’ footsteps faded into the distance. I stared at the harsh, white fluorescent lights on the ceiling, my vision blurring. Luke Carter. My husband. Just three hours ago, he was kissing my forehead at home. He had pressed his ear to my belly, his voice so gentle it could melt. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll be right by your side at the hospital today to welcome our baby.” Now, he was keeping another woman company during an MRI. To soothe her petty claustrophobia, he had ordered the staff to pump me with inhibitors. To force me to hold it in. The door creaked open. A nurse walked in carrying a medical tray. It was Nora, the head nurse whom Luke had personally promoted. Usually, when she saw me, she was all smiles, calling me “Mrs. Carter” with dripping sweetness. Now, she wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Her face was masked in cold, professional indifference. “Mrs. Carter, Dr. Carter ordered this. Your contraction frequency is too high. We need to administer the inhibitor immediately.” She practicedly picked up the syringe. She flicked it to release the air bubbles. A few drops of clear liquid splashed onto the back of my hand. It felt bone-chillingly cold. “I’m not taking that,” I said. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. Nora frowned, her tone dripping with impatience. “You don’t have a choice. Lily is throwing a massive fit in the MRI room, and Dr. Carter can’t leave her side.” “If you give birth now, there won’t be an attending OB-GYN to deliver your baby.” “Holding it in is best for both you and the child.” Without waiting for my consent, she grabbed my wrist. She violently tied a tourniquet around it. The needle hovered inches from my vein. *Hold it in.* What a sick joke. High-dose contraction inhibitors are lethal for a woman in active labor. It forces the uterus to stop contracting. It suffocates the fetus inside. It can even trigger a massive, fatal postpartum hemorrhage. Luke was a top OB-GYN specialist. He knew the consequences of this injection better than anyone. Yet, he still gave the order. Just because his childhood friend was scared of a machine. He wanted me, his pregnant wife, to force our baby back into my womb. I stared at the sharp needle. Luke’s past vows flashed through my mind. Three years ago, he was just a broke resident who couldn’t even afford rent. I had hidden my status as the heiress of the Vance Group and married him without a second thought. To protect his fragile, pathetic ego, I didn’t even make our relationship public at my family’s hospital. I lived in a cramped basement with him, eating instant noodles. I watched him climb from a lowly resident to the Vice President. I thought I had married for love. It turned out I had just married a joke. “Get away from me,” I growled. I yanked my hand back. The needle scraped across my skin, leaving a long, bleeding scratch. Nora gasped, dropping the syringe to the floor. “Are you crazy?!” I threw off the blanket. I stepped barefoot onto the freezing cold tiles. A mixture of amniotic fluid and blood ran down my thighs. Every step felt like walking on broken glass. “I said, I’m not taking it.” I gripped the edge of the bed, forcing my spine straight. “Tell Luke to drag his ass over here and face me.” Nora sneered, her eyes full of contempt. “Who do you think you are? Dr. Carter is the CEO’s son-in-law, and Lily is his childhood sweetheart.” “You think you can just order him around?” *The CEO’s son-in-law.* Yes, he was riding on the glory my father gave him, playing god in this hospital. And now, he was using my father’s power to trample on my life. I forced myself to calm down. I took a deep breath, riding out another wave of agony. “Fine. If he won’t come,” I said, wiping the blood from my lip, “I’ll go find him.” I pushed past Nora and stumbled out of the delivery room. The cold draft in the hallway hit me, clearing my head. I needed to ask him. I needed to ask the man who held me every night and whispered sweet nothings into my ear… What kind of monster was he?

The hallway felt endless. The fluorescent lights were blindingly white. I leaned against the cold wall, dragging myself forward inch by inch. Contractions came faster and harder now. It felt like an invisible hand was tearing my insides apart. I grit my teeth, refusing to make a sound. Amniotic fluid kept dripping down my legs. I left a horrifying trail of wet stains on the tiles. At the end of the hall was the hospital’s most luxurious VIP suite. The door was half-open. The warmth drifting out carried a faint scent of expensive French perfume. Luke had personally imported it from France, claiming it was for soothing anxiety. He had never let me use it, saying it wasn’t good for pregnant women. As it turned out, he was saving it for his “childhood friend.” I stopped ten paces away. Through the crack in the door, I saw them. Luke was in his crisp white lab coat, his back to me. Holding onto him, dressed in silk hospital pajamas, was Lily Brooks. I knew that name all too well. Luke had a contact named “Lily” saved on his SnapChat. He told me she was just a poor college student he was sponsoring, someone who saw him as an older brother. I had once offered to meet her. Luke declined, claiming she was too self-conscious and shy around strangers. Now I realized she wasn’t shy. She was just terrified that I, his legal wife, would ruin her game. “Luke, the MRI was so scary. It was so dark inside. I thought I’d never make it out,” Lily whimpered, her voice dripping with helpless tears. Luke leaned down. He wiped her tears with incredible tenderness. That was the gentle touch he used to reserve only for when I was sick. “Shh, you’re fine now. Haven’t I been right here with you?” His deep voice was laced with infinite patience. Lily snuggled deeper into his chest. “But what about your wife? You’re staying with me and forcing her to delay her labor. Will she be okay?” She looked up at him, her tone full of fake worry. But her eyes danced with triumph. Luke let out a soft chuckle. To my ears, that laugh sounded like a poisoned blade. “She’s just a gold-digging housewife. She won’t die.” “Even if something happens, we can just throw some money at it.” *A gold-digging housewife.* *Throw some money at it.* I stood there, shivering violently. My fingernails dug so deep into my palms that they drew blood, but I felt nothing. This was the man I had loved for three years. The man who once walked through a torrential downpour across three neighborhoods just to buy me a strawberry cake from Amazon. The man who stayed up all night massaging my swollen legs when my morning sickness was unbearable. Now, my life was nothing but trash to him. Just a bargaining chip to please another woman. Lily’s sharp eyes caught me standing outside. She didn’t panic. Instead, her lips curled into a mocking smirk. She reached up and gently stroked Luke’s face. Her sleeve slid down. Revealing an exquisite emerald bracelet on her wrist. An imperial green emerald of the highest quality. That was my mother’s heirloom. Last month, Luke told me the clasp was loose and offered to take it for servicing. And then, he put it on this woman’s wrist. “Luke, that pregnant lady is staring at us. It’s kind of creepy,” Lily whimpered, pretending to be scared. Luke didn’t even turn around. “Ignore those lowlifes.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get some lobster rolls downtown. Isn’t that your favorite?” He guided her toward the private elevator inside the suite. The entire time, he didn’t spare me a single glance. The elevator doors slowly slid shut. Cutting off the sight of their intertwined bodies. I leaned against the icy wall, gasping for air. My eyes burned. But I didn’t cry. I closed my eyes, forcing the hot tears back. When I opened them again, there was only bone-chilling cold. Luke Carter. Since you love playing games so much. I’ll play a big one with you. Let’s see how long a pathetic social climber like you can stay on top.

The contractions eased up slightly. I didn’t go back to the delivery room. Instead, I pushed open the door and walked into the VIP suite. The room was empty now. The air smelled of a faint, sickening rose perfume. I looked around. Imported Italian leather sofas. My favorite brand of scented candles on the nightstand. Even the landscape painting on the wall was the exact one I had wanted at an auction, which Luke had talked me out of buying because it was “too expensive and impractical.” He didn’t think it was too expensive. He just didn’t think I was worth it. I walked over to the sofa, wanting to sit down and catch my breath. Suddenly, voices drifted from the adjoining dressing room. It was Lily. She hadn’t left. She had only put on a show in front of Luke to get him to go downstairs first. “Don’t worry, I have Luke wrapped around my finger,” Lily’s voice rang out, no longer sweet and helpless, but sharp and venomous. “The claustrophobia? Totally faked. I just wanted to see who mattered more to him—me, or that fat housewife who’s about to pop.” She laughed wickedly. The sound sliced through my heart like a blade. “And guess what? He literally ordered the nurses to pump her with inhibitors to force her to hold the baby in.” The person on the other end of the line said something. Lily sneered. “So what if she’s his wife? Luke already transferred the Hilltop Villa to my name.” “Once she gives birth today, he’s going to commit her to a mental asylum under the guise of postpartum depression.” *The Hilltop Villa.* That was the surprise I had prepared for our third anniversary. I had personally visited construction sites, picked out every tile, and selected every chair. I even filled the garden with his favorite sunflowers. I had lied and told him I rented it, just to protect his pride. At the time, his eyes had welled with tears as he held me, calling me the best wife in the world. And behind my back, he handed the house that held all my love over to his mistress. My breathing grew ragged. But what she said next made my blood run cold. “And here’s the best part,” Lily whispered, her tone laced with malicious excitement. “Luke said the kid in her belly is the perfect backup blood bank.” “Once the baby is born, we’ll take it away. It’ll be my personal supply to treat my illness.” *Backup blood bank.* Those words exploded in my brain like a bomb. I had an incredibly rare blood type—Rh-negative. When I first got pregnant, Luke had insisted on encrypting my medical files. He claimed he was protecting me from malicious people who might exploit it. As it turned out, the malicious person was him. Every night, he would press his face to my belly, gently reading stories to our unborn child. He bought all sorts of classical music, claiming he wanted to nurture our baby’s artistic soul. He wasn’t anticipating a new life. He was cultivating a living blood bank! A wave of nausea hit me, and I nearly threw up. I kicked the dressing room door open with a loud slam. Lily gasped, spinning around in terror. When she saw it was me, she froze, then her brow furrowed in anger. “Who the hell are you? Who let you in here? Get out!” She hung up her FaceTime call and marched over to me, chin held high. I didn’t say a word. My eyes were locked onto the emerald bracelet on her wrist. “Are you deaf? I said get out!” Seeing me ignore her, Lily reached out to shove me. I stepped aside. Raising my hand, I slapped her across the face with everything I had. *SMACK!* The crisp sound echoed through the room. Lily’s head snapped to the side. She clutched her cheek, staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “You dared to slap me? Do you know who I am?!” I curled my lips into a cold, mocking smile. “You’re nothing. You don’t deserve to know who I am.” Furious, Lily grabbed a glass cup from the table and threw it at me. “I’m Luke’s woman! He’s about to inherit Vance Private Hospital! I can make him ruin your life in a second!” The glass shattered against the wall, sending shards flying. I didn’t flinch. “Inherit Vance Private Hospital?” I laughed, as if hearing the funniest joke in the world. “A gold-digging piece of trash like him actually thinks he can dream that big?” Lily froze. She clearly hadn’t expected a random pregnant woman to speak of Luke this way. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” I took a step closer, my gaze like a knife. “The deed to the Hilltop Villa is under the name Hazel Vance. Did you really think he could transfer it to you?” Lily’s face turned pale. “How… how do you know Hazel Vance?” Hazel Vance. The heiress of the Vance Group. The public knew the name, but few had ever seen my face. To hide the fact that he had married into my family, Luke had told everyone that Hazel Vance was constantly recovering in an overseas sanatorium. I watched the panic rise in Lily’s eyes, my hatred growing exponentially. “Not only do I know Hazel Vance,” I whispered, every word sharp as ice, “but I also know that the bracelet on your wrist belongs to a dead woman.”

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On my wedding night, my mother-in-law, Evelyn, lined up a row of brass cremation urns and creepy old family portraits right in our bedroom. “Our ancestors will be watching you two make love tonight. They will bless me with a grandson soon!” she declared. My chest tightened with anger. I pointed at the door. “Are you insane? Get those things out of here right now!” “Are you out of your mind? Who puts dead people’s ashes in a bedroom? It’s terrifying!” My husband, Brandon, remained dead silent. Evelyn, however, puffed out her chest. “Let’s see who dares to move them! Moving them is disrespecting our bloodline!” Anger rushed to my head. I got out of bed and began putting on my clothes. “If you won’t take them out, I’m leaving.” The next second, Evelyn grabbed a pair of scissors from the vanity table. With a sharp *snip*, she cut my driver’s license and passport in half. She let out a cold laugh. “Don’t forget, Chloe, you moved twelve hundred miles away from home to be here. In this town, you do as I say!” “Without your ID and passport, you can’t even book a flight or rent a car. You’re trapped. Do you really think your family can save you from all the way across the country?” Evelyn slammed me back onto the bed. Just then, a pregnant woman walked out of the guest room. “You think it’s crazy? Look at Tiffany. Under the blessing of our ancestors, she got pregnant with Brandon’s baby after just one night!” “In this house, you’re nothing but a glorified placeholder. If you don’t get pregnant soon, I’ll have my son divorce you and throw you out!” I was about to explode. I turned to Brandon and demanded a divorce right then and there. But Evelyn only laughed harder. “This apartment is provided by Brandon’s company. If you divorce him, you’ll be kicked out onto the streets! Let’s see who wants a divorced, homeless woman in a town where she knows nobody!” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. I pulled out my phone and dialed the HR department of our company’s branch office. “Fire Brandon immediately and reclaim this apartment.” They thought they could lock me down because I was far from home. What they didn’t know was that I had just been transferred here as the new General Manager.

I had just completed my onboarding paperwork today and hadn’t had the chance to tell Brandon yet. I never expected that on our very first night as newlyweds, this family would show their true, ugly colors. They thought I was isolated, so they tried to break me. The moment I hung up the phone, Evelyn snatched it from my hand and smashed it onto the floor. It shattered into pieces. She smirked, looking down at me. “Oh, trying to call someone to back you up? Nobody can help you now!” “Your family is thousands of miles away. You don’t know a soul here. Who’s going to save you?” “Since you’re just a placeholder, you better serve your husband, respect me, and do as you’re told. If you behave, I’ll feed you. If you don’t, I’ll kick you out right now!” I stared at her in shock. I had never met anyone so shamelessly evil in my entire life! Before I could fire back, Brandon grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, my mom is doing this for your own good.” “You don’t have any relatives here. A wife should follow her husband. Now that you’re part of our family, you need to learn our rules.” “Besides, you lost your job when you moved here, while I just got promoted to Department Manager. What right do you have to talk back to my mother?” I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. My teeth grinded in pure fury. So, they thought they could control me with these twisted rules just because they thought I was unemployed. Before the wedding, I told Brandon I had applied for a transfer to the local branch. I told him if the transfer failed, I would resign and find another job using my years of experience. But the truth was, the branch office was desperate for a General Manager, and my transfer was approved. I became the official General Manager today. And it was my approval that promoted Brandon to Department Manager this morning. I couldn’t believe I had promoted a backstabbing snake who turned on me the second he got a taste of power. I glared at Brandon. “Do you really think your mother is right?” “This is my first day in this house, and you guys treat me like this? And you see no problem with it?” “And who the hell is this pregnant woman? Don’t tell me she’s carrying your child!” Brandon lowered his head, avoiding my eyes. Evelyn stepped in, pointing her finger at my face. “You little bitch, how dare you question my son? So what if she’s carrying his baby?” “You’ve been dating him for three years, and your belly is still flat. Who knows if you’re barren? If I don’t find someone else for my son, our family line will end!” Brandon muttered under his breath, “You’re the one who couldn’t get pregnant. Anyway, you’ve moved all the way here. Leaving won’t be that easy.” His words made me see his true colors. After three years of dating, he turned out to be a spineless coward. My heart went completely cold. The anger in my chest was roaring. Without another word, I put on my shoes and walked toward the door. I was done with this family. Brandon grabbed my arm. “It’s late. Where are you going? Are you seriously throwing a tantrum and running away over such a small thing?” Evelyn threw her head back and sneered. “Let her go, Brandon! I want to see where a broke stranger can go in this town!” Brandon let go of my arm. He stood beside his mother, watching me leave with cold, indifferent eyes. “Don’t you dare come back crying! Once you walk out that door, I won’t let you back in, even if you beg on your knees!” The door slammed shut behind me. I turned and walked away into the dark night.

“Beep. Incorrect PIN…” The card reader beeped after my third failed attempt. I stared at my credit card in confusion. The PIN was correct. Why wasn’t it working? “I’m sorry, ma’am. All your cards are showing incorrect PINs. And since you don’t have a physical ID, we cannot check you in,” the hotel receptionist said, handing the cards back to me. I was completely lost. “That’s impossible. How can none of these cards work?” Evelyn had smashed my phone and destroyed my ID. Now, even my bank cards were useless. While I was trying to figure out what to do, Evelyn and Brandon walked into the hotel lobby. “See? I told you she’d be here!” Evelyn gloated. “Having trouble checking in, aren’t we?” “Let me tell you the truth. My son gave me all your card details and PINs a long time ago. I changed them all. You can’t use a single dollar now.” “You’ll have to wait until the bank opens tomorrow to reset them. I told you, I’ll make sure you sleep on the streets tonight!” Evelyn smirked at me, her eyes filled with malicious triumph. “But, if you get down on your knees right now, beg for my forgiveness, and promise to obey me from now on, I might let you come home.” Brandon stepped up and gave me a look. “Chloe, just apologize. Why do you have to be so stubborn? Is it that hard to just listen to my mom?” “The hotels around here require IDs. You have no money, no phone, no ID, and you don’t know anyone. You really are going to sleep on the street!” “This isn’t a big city. There are plenty of creeps and drunkards out there at night. If something happens to you…” I glared at him so fiercely that he took two steps back, hiding behind his mother. Ever since I graduated, I had fought my way up from the bottom to the executive level. No one had ever managed to manipulate me, let alone using such disgusting, lowlife tactics. I met Brandon when he visited our headquarters for a business trip. It was almost love at first sight. During our three years together, I fell for his gentle, caring personality. As a career-focused woman, I was drawn to his warmth. Eventually, I made the huge decision to relocate to his hometown to start a family with him. I never expected that this gentle man was actually a spineless, pathetic mama’s boy! They wanted to break me? In their dreams. I turned to the receptionist. “Call the police, please.” “This woman stole my phone, destroyed my ID, and illegally accessed my bank accounts. Let’s see who the police will take away tonight!” A few minutes later, two officers walked into the lobby. Before I could speak, Evelyn rushed forward and grabbed one of the officers’ hands. “Marcus, thank God you’re here!” “It’s my ungrateful daughter-in-law. She ran away in the middle of the night and even dared to call the police on us. You need to talk some sense into her!”

The officer walked over to me, looking me up and down. “You called?” I nodded, shocked to realize the officer was Evelyn’s nephew. “Yes, I did. My mother-in-law destroyed my phone, cut up my ID, and locked me out of my bank accounts…” Before I could finish, Officer Marcus raised his hand to stop me. “You’re her son’s legal wife, correct?” “Since you are, this is a domestic dispute. It’s not that I don’t want to help, but we don’t interfere in family matters.” “Resolve this among yourselves. Don’t waste police resources. We’re leaving.” The officers turned to leave. I tried to stop them, but Evelyn grabbed my arm with a vicious grip. “Still want to run? Let me tell you something, city girl. In a small town, it’s all about connections!” “You can scream all you want, but you can’t touch a single hair on my head. Booking me? You’re dreaming! Hahaha!” Brandon sneered. “Stop fighting it, Chloe. Half the town is related to my parents.” “You have to play by our rules here, or you won’t survive.” “Even if you go to the bank or the DMV tomorrow, my mom can easily block you.” “With just one phone call from her, you won’t get anything done. Just listen to me. Kneel down, apologize to my mom, and we can put this behind us.” He pushed down on my shoulders, trying to force me to my knees. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “So you guys are the local bullies, huh? You thought you could control me because I’m alone here!” Evelyn burst into laughter. “Exactly! What are you going to do about it?” “Try us if you don’t believe it. Let’s see when you can get a new ID. Without money and documents, where can you go?” “Earlier, a simple apology would have been enough. But now, you have to kneel and bow a hundred times before I let you back into my house!” A hundred times? The old woman had completely lost her mind. I stared at her, my eyes burning with rage. I wanted to tear her apart. But HR had informed me that the termination process and house reclamation couldn’t be executed until office hours tomorrow morning. I forced down my anger. “I’ll apologize, but I won’t kneel.” Brandon begged his mother on my behalf, and she finally agreed. “Fine. Since you’re new to the family and don’t know any better, a simple apology will do for now. But do it again, and I won’t be so easy on you.” I squeezed out a half-hearted apology, and Evelyn immediately beamed with pride. A next time? There wouldn’t be a next time. Tomorrow morning, I would make this entire family pay! When we got back to the apartment, I found not only Tiffany but also two strange men sitting in our living room. I gasped. Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Those are Brandon’s cousins. They’re staying over. If you don’t like it, go sleep on the couch!” The two shirtless men slowly put on their shirts. I rushed to the bedroom drawer to check my belongings. The drawer was empty. My wedding jewelry and the cash gifts from my parents were gone.

“Who stole my money? I put everything right here! Where is it?” I searched frantically, but Evelyn shrugged indifferently. “Stole? What a nasty word to use! I put the jewelry away for safekeeping, and I used the cash to pay off their debts.” “You’re rich anyway. A little cash shouldn’t matter to you. Stop screaming and go to bed.” My heart pounded furiously. The rage inside me was about to burn the house down. I snapped. “If that’s not stealing, what is? That is my money! Who gave you the right to take it?” “And you two, get the hell out of here! This is my place! You have no right to stay here!” Evelyn lost her temper and slapped me across the face. “Shut up!” “You don’t call the shots in this house! I’ll give that money to whoever I want!” Brandon chimed in. “Yeah, Chloe. I’m a department manager now. My salary has doubled. I’ll pay you back later. Stop making a scene.” I touched my swollen cheek. Tears of anger and regret streamed down my face. I hated myself for being so blind! How could I have married into such a family? I should have listened to my parents and never moved here! I sat on the couch all night, waiting for morning to come so the company could throw them out. At 8:00 AM, my laptop buzzed with an email from HR. [The termination letter for Brandon has been drafted. The legal team and the moving crew are on their way to reclaim the property.] As I felt a wave of relief, a strange, savory aroma wafted from the kitchen. Evelyn walked out holding a bowl of soup, a creepy smile on her face. “Drink up. It’s good for you.” I took a sip. It tasted rich and savory. “What kind of soup is this?” Evelyn chuckled. “It’s Buster. Do you like it? It’s a special small-town recipe. No gamey smell at all!” I froze. Buster was my twelve-year-old golden retriever. With everything that happened last night, I hadn’t realized Buster was missing. Evelyn blocked me as I tried to stand up. “Don’t bother looking. He’s right there in your bowl.” “Why keep a dog anyway? It’s better to focus on getting pregnant and raising Brandon’s child!” I stared at her, my mind going blank. Then, without a second thought, I slapped Evelyn as hard as I could, sending her crashing to the floor. “You psycho! You absolute monster! Buster was with me for twelve years! He was harmless, and you slaughtered him!” “You guys are sick! Eating a dog? Are you even human?” Evelyn screamed from the floor. Brandon rushed over and punched me in the face. “Is it really that big of a deal? He was just a dumb animal!” Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. Tears poured down my face like a broken dam. “This is madness! How dare you hit my mother! Call the police! Put this crazy bitch in jail!” Evelyn and the two cousins found some rope and tied me up while Brandon called the police. I struggled with everything I had. “Let me go! You psychos! You’re going to pay for this!” A moment later, the doorbell rang. Evelyn smirked. “They’re here already. You’re going to jail, you miserable bitch!” Evelyn swung the door open, but standing there wasn’t Officer Marcus. It was the company’s HR manager, several corporate security guards, and two real state police officers. My secretary, Amber, pushed past Evelyn and immediately untied me. “Are you guys insane? How dare you put your hands on our General Manager!” The HR manager stepped forward and handed Brandon the termination letter. “Brandon, you are officially fired. We are here to reclaim this corporate-owned apartment.”

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At the grand finale of the National Young Architects Championship, I was just one step away from winning a hundred-thousand-dollar cash prize and a junior partner offer at Aura Architects, the top firm in the country. But my own sister, Chloe, didn’t just stomp on the physical model I spent three months building—she also grabbed the microphone and joked in front of all the judges that my blueprints were entirely AI-generated. I was disqualified on the spot, my reputation completely ruined. Yet my parents defended her: “Chloe was just playing a harmless joke. Why the long face? She’s marrying into the billionaire Vance family next month to become a wealthy socialite. Don’t bring your bad luck around her!” Watching my sister stroke her flat stomach, bragging to the billionaire heir about carrying his child, I let out a cold laugh. Oh, so she likes jokes? Fine. I wonder how my soon-to-be brother-in-law will react when he hears about her “ultimate joke”—the one where she secretly gave birth to a bastard in a shady back-alley clinic years ago, and had to have her entire uterus removed? **Chapter 1** “Crash!” A loud shatter, followed by the agonizing sound of acrylic breaking, echoed through the dead-silent finals hall. My mind went completely blank as I stared at the absolute mess on the floor. That was my “Future City” miniature model. I had spent ninety grueling days and nights hand-polishing and assembling it. My hands were covered in dozens of cuts from the utility knife, and I had even fainted twice in the studio from sheer exhaustion. This was the grand finale of the National Young Architects Championship. If I won first place, I wouldn’t just get a hundred-thousand-dollar seed fund—I would also get a direct, lifetime partner track offer at Aura Architects. It was my only ticket to changing my destiny. But now, it was nothing but a pile of crushed plastic. “Oh my gosh!” The culprit—my own sister, Chloe—covered her mouth, taking an exaggerated step backward. She was wearing a flashy, haute couture Chanel suit, balancing on four-inch red-bottom heels. The tips of her shoes were still stained with the synthetic turf from my model. “Summer, I am so sorry! The carpet was just too slippery, and I tripped.” Chloe blinked her eyes, heavy with thick fake eyelashes. There wasn’t a hint of regret on her face. Instead, she let out a giggling snort. “But honestly, your design was all about ‘Deconstructivism’ anyway, right? Now that it’s broken into pieces, doesn’t it fit the theme even better? Hahaha!” My body trembled violently. I glared at her, my eyes bloodshot. “Chloe, you did that on purpose!” Before I went on stage, she had insisted on tagging along to the backstage waiting area, claiming she wanted to “cheer me on.” I had guarded against everything, but I couldn’t guard against her suddenly “tripping” right into the staff as they were moving my model. “Why are you so sensitive? Can’t you take a joke?” Chloe rolled her eyes and smirked. “It’s just a cheap plastic toy. Worst case, I’ll have Ethan buy you ten more!” At the judges’ table, the five industry titans were already frowning. The head judge—the legendary architect and founder of Aura Architects, Arthur Sterling—tapped his microphone, his face grim. “Summer Campbell, your model is ruined. How do you plan to proceed with the light and shadow demonstration? This is a critical failure!” I took a deep breath, forcing my tears back, and quickly walked to the front of the stage to bow. “Mr. Sterling, judges, although the model is destroyed, my core data and 3D renderings are still loaded on the big screen. Please give me ten minutes. I can still present the perfect proposal!” Arthur’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “Very well. You may begin…” “Wait a minute!” Chloe suddenly rushed onto the stage like a gust of wind, snatching the backup microphone right out of the host’s hand. The crowd gasped. I looked at her in horror. “Chloe, what are you doing? Put the mic down!” Chloe completely ignored me. She waved cheerfully to the judges and the audience of hundreds. “Hello, esteemed judges! I’m Summer’s older sister. You know, you don’t actually have to feel bad about that model breaking. Because it doesn’t matter at all!” She cleared her throat and spoke in a highly mocking, playful tone. “My sister is just obsessed with her ego. To be honest, she didn’t even draw these blueprints herself! She just spent a couple of bucks on some cheap new AI software, typed in a few keywords, and boom—generated the whole thing in ten minutes!” Boom! The entire hall erupted instantly. “AI-generated? That’s a massive violation!” “Plagiarism! Fraud! Has the bar for this competition dropped this low?” “I knew it. How could an undergraduate student design something so mature? It’s just cheap tech tricks!” The waves of murmurs from the crowd washed over me like a tsunami. I lunged forward like crazy to grab the microphone from Chloe’s hand, screaming at the top of my lungs, “You’re lying! I built this block by block! I have every single process draft and revision history on my laptop! Why are you doing this to me?!” Chloe dodged me gracefully, giggling into the microphone. “Oh look, she’s getting defensive! See how mad she is?” “I was just trying to break the ice with a joke, guys. Don’t be so serious!” “But seriously, Summer, wasn’t your ex-boyfriend an AI graphic designer? You two just broke up last month. You know exactly where these blueprints came from, don’t you? Haha, just kidding, just kidding!” She kept calling it a “joke,” yet she managed to plaster the dirt of “ex-boyfriend ghostwriting” and “AI generation” firmly onto my name. In the architectural world, originality is the absolute baseline. Once you are tainted with the suspicion of AI fraud, even if you clear your name later, no prestigious firm will ever hire you. Arthur Sterling’s face was now as dark as a thundercloud. He slammed my portfolio onto the table and stood up in anger. “Enough! This is a prestigious national championship, not a stage for you sisters to put on a comedy show!” “Summer Campbell, your actions are not only a disgrace to this competition, but an insult to architecture itself! You are officially disqualified! Security, escort them out!” I fell to my knees on the stage, reaching out desperately toward Arthur. “Mr. Sterling, I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t! I can do a live demonstration of my modeling right now. Please, just look at my drafts…” Two burly security guards rushed onto the stage, grabbing me by my arms and dragging me out like a stray dog. I struggled, crying and screaming, my fingernails scraping bloody marks against the wooden stage. Meanwhile, Chloe stood to the side, casually smoothing out her Chanel jacket, and threw a playful smirk at my retreating figure. “Geez, so dramatic. It was just a joke. Is it really worth crying over?” **Chapter 2** I was thrown straight out of the theater’s back exit by security. The early winter rain poured down on my face, freezing me to the bone. I sat in the rain like a maniac for half an hour until a black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing my parents’ faces, both twisted with impatience. “Haven’t you embarrassed us enough? Get in the car, now!” my father, Richard, roared. I stiffly climbed into the backseat. The moment the door slammed shut, my mother, Eleanor, slapped me hard across the face. “Smack!” My vision went blurry, and I immediately tasted blood in my mouth. “You worthless brat! Can you do anything other than humiliate us in public?” Eleanor pointed her finger at my nose, screaming, “Your sister went all the way there just to support you, and you had to scream on stage like a rabid dog! What were you trying to do? Make the Vance family think we have no class?!” I held my burning cheek, staring at them in disbelief. “I humiliated you? Do you even know what Chloe did? She smashed my model and lied to the judges that I cheated! She ruined my entire life!” I screamed hysterically. Chloe, sitting in the passenger seat, was touched up her lipstick in the mirror. Hearing my words, she scoffed. “Summer, stop being so dramatic. It was just a joke. Who knew that old man Sterling would be so uptight? He can’t even take a joke.” “Besides, even if you won first place in that stupid contest, so what? A hundred thousand dollars? That’s not even enough for Ethan to buy me a decent handbag. What’s the point of a girl drawing blueprints on construction sites all day? You should be like me—find a rich man to marry. That’s real success.” Trembling with rage, I pointed at her and spat, “Cut the crap! You call that a joke? You’re just jealous of me! You’ve hated seeing me succeed since we were kids!” “Smack!” Another slap landed. This time, it was from my father. “Show some respect! How dare you speak to your sister like that!” Richard glared at me. “Your sister is marrying into the Vance family next month. She is carrying the next Vance heir in her womb right now! That’s a multi-billion-dollar empire! Who do you think you are to lecture her?” I froze. The Vance family? The heir? Chloe and Ethan just got engaged last month, and she’s already pregnant? Chloe proudly stroked her flat stomach, turning around to give me a smug smirk. “Hear that? I’m the golden child of the Vance family now. Ethan’s mom took me for an ultrasound yesterday. The doctor said it’s one hundred percent a boy.” “Summer, you’re destined to eat dirt on construction sites. Make sure you show up as my bridesmaid for my royal wedding next month. It’ll be a good chance for you to see what high society actually looks like.” Looking at the three absurd people in front of me, I felt an overwhelming wave of disgust. It had always been like this since we were kids. Because I was the younger girl, and because I didn’t know how to act cute and manipulate them like Chloe did, I was invisible in this house. When Chloe stole my toys, my parents said, “You’re the younger sister, you have to share.” When Chloe tore up my college acceptance letter, my parents said, “She was just playing a joke on you. Just retake the SATs next year.” Now, she had ruined the most important competition of my life and destroyed my career, and my parents still thought it was just a “harmless joke.” All because she had hooked Ethan Vance and become the cash cow that would bring endless wealth to the Campbell family. “By the way,” Eleanor suddenly remembered, looking at me coldly. “Since your little competition is a bust, stop renting that downtown loft. Terminate the lease and move back to our old apartment.” I snapped my head up. “Why? I pay for that rent with my own hard-earned money!” “Your sister is getting married next month, and the Vance family is giving us a five-million-dollar pre-wedding fund. We Campbells can’t look too poor,” Eleanor said, completely devoid of shame. “Your loft is in a prime location. I want your father to put a down payment on it, put it under Chloe’s name, and present it as her bridal asset. Clear out your junk quickly so we don’t waste time.” They wanted to crush my dreams, ruin my future, and now take away my last safe haven just to beef up Chloe’s dowry? I looked at Eleanor’s greedy face, then at Chloe’s smug, self-satisfied grin. The suffocating rage in my chest suddenly, strangely, went quiet. I lowered my gaze, hiding the icy coldness in my eyes. “Sure,” I said softly. “I’ll pack.” Chloe sneered, “At least you know your place.” So, you like jokes, Chloe? Since you love them so much. I’m going to prepare one for you. A joke that will make sure you never smile again for the rest of your life. **Chapter 3** For the next two weeks, the Campbell house was filled with joy. Everyone revolved around Chloe’s pregnancy. Ethan Vance was a notoriously wealthy playboy in the city, and the Vance family was incredibly traditional, putting extreme value on family lineage and the bride’s “purity.” To maintain her “pure, innocent angel” persona, Chloe never even raised her voice in front of Ethan, branding herself as a sweet, untouched girl who had never even been in a serious relationship. And Ethan totally fell for it, spoiling her rotten. This weekend, Ethan and his mother, Victoria Vance, came over to the Campbell house to discuss the wedding details. I was forced by Eleanor to stay in the kitchen, slicing fruit and serving them like a maid. Victoria’s elegant, snobbish voice drifted in from the living room. “Eleanor, I must say, the more I see Chloe, the more I adore her. She’s so pure and clean, unlike those wild girls out there. When the Vance family chooses a bride, we don’t care about her family fortune. We care about her upbringing and character.” Eleanor’s smile was so wide it almost reached her ears. “Oh, Mrs. Vance, you don’t have to worry about that. Our Chloe has always been a good girl. She’s never even held another boy’s hand. Getting pregnant with Ethan’s baby is a blessing from heaven!” Ethan held Chloe’s hand, his eyes filled with devotion. “Mom, Chloe is not only innocent, she’s also incredibly kind. When her sister failed her competition the other day, Chloe went all the way to the venue just to comfort her.” Chloe lowered her head shyly, leaning against Ethan’s shoulder. “Ethan, don’t say that. Summer is my sister. It’s only right that I look out for her.” Listening from the kitchen, I almost threw up my breakfast. Look out for me? By stomping on my model and lying about me cheating? Is that her version of looking out for me? I walked out with the fruit platter and slammed it onto the coffee table. “Ethan, my sister is indeed very… innocent.” I looked at him, a meaningful smile playing on my lips. “So innocent that I doubt she even knows how babies are made.” The air in the living room froze instantly. Chloe’s face visibly stiffened, but she quickly masked it with a wounded look. “Summer, are you still mad about my joke from the other day? I really didn’t mean any harm…” Her eyes welled up, tears spilling right on cue. Ethan immediately pulled her into his arms, glaring at me like a defensive beast. “Summer! If you’re mad, take it out on me! Don’t bring your petty passive-aggressiveness to your sister! She’s pregnant, she can’t handle stress!” Victoria Vance also frowned, her eyes flashing with deep disapproval. “Eleanor, it seems your younger daughter’s manners leave much to be desired.” Eleanor turned pale. She rushed over, pinched my arm hard, and hissed under her breath, “You stupid brat, shut your mouth! Apologize to your sister right now!” I coldly shook off her hand. “Apologize? For what?” I stared directly at Chloe’s fake face and said, word for word, “I’m just reminding my sister to take good care of her body. After all… her body is exceptionally precious.” Chloe’s pupils shrunk instantly. Her fingers dug deep into the couch cushion, her knuckles turning white. Yet she forced a shaky laugh. “S-Summer, what are you talking about? My health is perfectly fine.” “Is it?” I smiled, saying nothing more as I turned and walked back to my room. The moment the door closed, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number from a remote southern town. The phone rang for a long time before a rough, heavily accented voice of a middle-aged woman answered. “Hello? Who is this?” I took a deep breath and whispered, “Mildred Hicks. It’s me, Summer Campbell.” The other end went dead silent, followed by the frantic sound of a chair scraping against the floor. “You—you have the wrong number! I don’t know any Summer!” She panicked, trying to hang up. “Don’t hang up!” I said coldly. “Five years ago, Chloe Campbell gave birth to a baby boy in your town’s underground clinic. Because of severe hemorrhaging, she had to have her entire uterus removed. She sold that baby to you, her distant aunt, for ten thousand dollars, didn’t she?” “Clatter.” The sound of a phone dropping to the floor echoed from the speaker. I curled my lips into a savage smile. Oh, Chloe. Did you really think you cleaned up your mess so perfectly? Did you really think that lying to our parents about doing a “study abroad program,” while actually hiding in a rural town to give birth to some rich sugar daddy’s bastard, was foolproof? If I hadn’t accidentally found the wire transfer receipts and the bloody medical records hidden under your bed years ago, I might have actually believed you were a “pure, pregnant virgin” today. A woman without a uterus… how exactly are you pregnant? With your web of lies? “Mildred,” I spoke into the phone again, my voice dripping with devilish temptation. “Bring the boy to the city. If you show up at Chloe’s wedding and do what I say, I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars.”

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A devastating fire left me in a coma from severe oxygen deprivation. When I woke up, my vision was badly damaged — and i had retrograde amnesia. Back home, a handsome, gentle man took my hand and told me he was my fiancé. That we have been together for three years. Wedding photos covered the walls. A thick journal full of love letters sat on my nightstand. Even my parents sang his praises — almost desperately so. I almost believed him. I almost convinced myself I’d simply forgotten the true love of my life. Then one night, I was feeling my way down the hallway to the bathroom when I reached out toward the full-length mirror — And felt another pair of hands pressing back from the other side of the glass. 0I walked home with bandages over my eyes and a white cane tapping the ground ahead of me — back to the place I hadn’t seen in six months. Six months ago, a fire tore through my apartment building. It didn’t just destroy my studio. It burned away the last three years of my meories. Severe carbon monoxide poisoning, the doctors said. It caused retrograde amnesia and damaged my optic nerves. Right now, My vision is so limited that I can barely see anything beyond a blurry shape half a meter away. The whole world looks like a frosted window — everything reduced to heavy, shapeless smears. I pushed open the front door. A familiar scent of sandalwood hit me immediately. I took a slow, deep breath. Some of the tension in my shoulders eased. At least that hadn’t changed. “Claire, slow down — there’s a step right here.” A low, gentle voice sounded close to my ear. Then a pair of large, warm hands settled steadily at my waist. My body went rigid. I instinctively pulled back. “What’s wrong?” A carefully measured note of hurt crept into his voice. “Still not get used to me touching you?” I bit my lip. I didn’t know what to say. His name was Sebastian. My parents had introduced him as my fiancé. They said we’d been together for three years, that we’d been planning to get our marriage certificate next month. But I had twenty-six years of memories — the ones before the fire, at least — and in every single one of them, I had been completely, firmly, anti-marriage. I remembered screaming at my parents over it, remembered packing my bags and moving out on my own just to get away from the constant pressure to settle down. So how did I suddenly have a fiancé I’d been with for three years? “Sebastian, Claire just got out of the hospital — her mind is still foggy. Please be patient with her.” My mother’s voice drifted in from the living room, carrying a strange, careful quality. Like she was walking on eggshells. “Don’t worry mom.” Sebastian let out a soft laugh and gently took the white cane from my hand. “I’ll take good care of her.” He guided me inside with one arm loosely around me, then eased me down onto the couch. “Mom — where’s Dad?” I looked around, seeing nothing but a few vague blobs of color. “Your father is… he’s resting in the bedroom. He hasn’t been feeling well lately. Gets tired easily.” Her voice sounded dry. Tight. There was a faint tremor underneath it. A soft clack — the sound of glass meeting a hard surface. “Mom, you filled it too high.” Sebastian’s voice stayed warm, but I caught the sharp way my mother sucked in her breath. “Sorry, sorry — I’ll get you another one.” She hurried away, footsteps quick and uneven. I sat on the couch and felt the wrongness settle deeper into my chest. My mother had always been a strong woman. Demanding, critical, hard to please. Every friend I’d ever brought home had fallen short of her standards. So why was she acting like this around a man who was supposedly about to become her son-in-law? Why did she seem almost afraid of him? “Claire. Here.” Sebastian pressed a glass of water into my hand. His fingers brushed slowly across my knuckles — deliberately, I thought. My skin crawled. “Thank you.” I lowered my head and drank, using it as an excuse to hide my face. “The doctors said your vision will come back gradually. Don’t be scared.” He sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath near my ear. “Until then, I’ll be your eyes.” I didn’t answer. I just held the glass tighter. The doctors had said that. My optic nerve damage was temporary — once the pressure from the swelling went down, my sight would return. What I hadn’t told anyone was that since yesterday, the blur had already started to lift. I could almost make out Sebastian’s face now. The shapes were sharpening into features. It was a strikingly handsome face. And it was completely, utterly, a face I didn’t recognize. 0

Dinner was eaten in near silence. The only sounds were the faint clinks of forks and bowls. “Claire, have some ribs. The rib steak used to be your favorite — whenever I made it.” I poked at the piece of meat with my fork. My stomach turned for no reason I could name. “I… I don’t really want anything too heavy,” I said, trying to deflect. “Be good. You’re too thin — you need to eat.” His voice was still soft, but there was something underneath it that left no room for refusal. I instinctively glanced toward my parents, hoping one of them would bail me out. But they both kept their heads down, mechanically picking at their spaghetti, not to look at me even once. “Mom, Dad — why aren’t you having any?” I asked carefully. My father’s hand jerked. His fork clattered against the table with a sharp ring. “His hand slipped.” My mother quickly picked it up, her voice stretched tight as a bowstring. “We’re eating. We’re eating.” The unease inside me kept growing. After dinner, Sebastian walked me back to my room. “I’ve been cleaning it every day,” he said, pushing the door open and turning on the light. “Everything’s exactly the way you left it.” I squinted, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness. The layout was the same — that much I could tell. But the smell was wrong. It wasn’t the fir-wood perfume I always wore. It was something faint and foreign, like medical disinfectant mixed with some kind of chemical. “What’s wrong?” He noticed me hesitate. “Nothing. Just tired.” “Get some rest, then. I’m right next door — call me if you need anything.” He pressed a cold kiss to my forehead, turned, and pulled the door shut behind him. Click. The sound of the lock catching. I stood there, cold all the way through. He had locked my door from the outside. 0

I sat in the dark for a long time. What kind of normal fiancé locks his sick girlfriend in her room? I felt my way to the door, grabbed the handle, and twisted it hard. It didn’t move. I pressed my ear against the wood. Outside was completely silent. Not a sound. And then I heard it — a faint, dry rustling. It wasn’t coming from beyond the door. It was coming from… inside the wall. Like something crawling through the space between the walls. Like fingernails dragging slowly across concrete. I stumbled backward in fright, my back hitting the wardrobe. The sound lasted maybe ten seconds. Then it stopped. I stood there heaving, cold sweat soaking through my shirt. Mice？ It’s just mice. This house is old — of course there are mice. I kept telling myself that. I felt my way to the bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers over my head. That night, I barely slept. My dreams were full of fire — everywhere — and a man I couldn’t quite see, standing in the middle of the flames, staring straight at me. “Claire… you can’t run from me…” I woke up screaming, drenched. It was already light outside. A knock at the door. “Claire? You up? I’m coming in.” The lock clicked. Sebastian stepped inside. He walked in with a tray of breakfast, a flawless smile on his face. “Slept well?” he asked. “Pretty well,” I said. I pushed the fear down and kept my voice casual. “Sebastian — did you… hear anything last night?” His hand paused over the soup bowl. “what was that?” “Like — mice in the walls, maybe.” He smiled and handed me the bowl. “Old house. Bound to happen. I’ll buy some mouse poison today. Eat up — I want to show you something after.” 0

After breakfast, Sebastian set a thick metal tin in front of me. “You’ve been questioning what’s between us,” he said. “So — here. This is proof of everything.” I pried the lid open. Inside was a stack of photographs and several thick notebooks. “That’s from our trip to Hawaii,” he said quietly, pointing to each one. “That’s our one-year anniversary. And that one… that’s the day we tried on wedding dress.” I held a photo close to my face. My vision was still blurry, but I could make out the shapes clearly enough. It was me. Me and a man. We were hugging on a beach, kissing in a restaurant, laughing together in a bridal boutique. The girl in the photos was smiling — genuinely, warmly. There was no trace of anything forced. “And this.” He flipped open a notebook. “This is your love diary. You always said you had a bad memory, so you wanted to write down every day we spent together — something to read back when we’re old.” I ran my fingers over the handwriting on the cover. It really did look like mine. Even the way I connect the letters in certain words — exactly the same. Inside, the diary recorded everything in detail. How we met. How we got to know each other. How we fell in love. April 5, 2023. It rained today. He waited for me outside the office building with an umbrella. His shoes were completely soaked. In that moment, I suddenly thought — maybe getting married wouldn’t be so bad. August 10, 2024. He proposed. I cried like an idiot. I finally have a home. Every single line was full of love. I stared at all this “ironclad evidence,” and my temples began to pound. Had I really been wrong about him? Had I really forgotten my own fiancé — the man I deeply loved — just because of the fire? “Claire, don’t force yourself to remember.” Sebastian pulled me into a hug, his voice soft with concern. “It’s okay that you forgot. We can start over. As long as you’re still by my side.” His arms were warm. But I felt no sense of safety in them at all.

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Six months after my husband, Caleb Frost, received his kidney transplant, his first love, Scarlett, had been the one taking care of him. She had even specially procured a custom herbal remedy for him. The broth was garishly bright in color and carried a pungent, acrid stench. “Caleb, this is a secret formula I begged someone for. It’s the best for restoring your vitality,” she cooed softly, blowing on the spoon to cool it before bringing it to his lips, her posture the picture of docile submission. I reached out to stop him, but Caleb swatted my hand away with a harsh sweep, sending me crashing to the floor. “Stop making a scene.” His eyes were heavy with disgust. Right in front of me, he drank the entire bowl down. Watching the two of them nestled together, I wiped the trail of blood from the back of my hand and smiled faintly. “Caleb,” I whispered, my voice soft as silk, “you absolutely must… live a long, long life.” “Caleb, drink it while it’s hot. I spent a full eight hours making this for you.” Scarlett smiled brightly, holding a delicate white porcelain bowl as she stood in the backstage lounge of the Frost Group’s tenth anniversary gala. The bowl held a dark brown broth, giving off a strange, sweet-metallic smell. Caleb sat on the leather couch, his eyes warm and soft. “Scarlett, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble. You just got back—you shouldn’t be wearing yourself out for me.” He reached out to take the bowl. Bang! I shoved the lounge door open. My heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. The air in the room went dead still. I strode across the room, grabbed the porcelain bowl straight out of Scarlett’s hands, and slammed it down hard on the coffee table. Broth splashed everywhere. A few dark drops landed on my white couture gown, like dried bloodstains. “Victoria! What is wrong with you!” Caleb shot to his feet, face ashen. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced instantly by cold contempt. I stared him down. “Caleb, your kidney transplant was less than six months ago! The doctors told you over and over—don’t consume anything from an unknown source. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” “Unknown source?” Caleb let out a short, cold laugh. “Scarlett is my chief assistant. More than that, she’s my… close friend. The soup she makes is a hundred times better than anything you’ve ever put on the table—and you’re barely a wife in the first place.” Scarlett went pale. She shrank behind Caleb like a frightened deer. “Victoria, please don’t be angry. This is all my fault… I just felt bad seeing Caleb work so hard every day. With his kidney condition, I wanted to help, so I tracked down a secret recipe…” Her eyes welled up, her voice thick with hurt. “If you don’t want me to make it anymore, I won’t. Just please, don’t fight with Caleb because of me.” What a performance. I looked at her coldly. “Scarlett, drop the act. You know exactly what you put in that soup.” “That is enough!” Caleb pulled Scarlett into his arms and spun toward me, furious. “Victoria, do you have some kind of paranoia? Scarlett did something kind, and you have to make it this ugly? Look at yourself right now. Is this how the wife of the Frost family is supposed to act?” I watched him hold Scarlett close, and something invisible wrapped around my chest and squeezed until I couldn’t breathe. Me? Making a scene? Six months ago, when his kidneys failed and his life hung by a thread—who was the one standing outside that operating room, hands shaking so badly she could barely sign the critical condition forms? Who was the one who slipped into the room next door, climbed onto a surgical table, and let them cut a kidney out of her own body so he could live? Me! Victoria! But when he woke up, the first face he saw was Scarlett’s—his first love, who had rushed back from overseas. All it took was a few of her tears, and she became everything to him. And I became the villain standing in the way of their great love story. “You want to drink it? Fine.” I laughed, past caring now, and pointed at the bowl. “Get your will in order first. Sign your Frost Group shares over to me—then drink as much as you want. I won’t stop you from killing yourself.” Smack. A hard slap cracked across my face. My head snapped to the side. My ears rang. I tasted blood. Caleb pointed toward the door, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at an enemy. “Victoria. Get out! Stop making a scene.” I pressed my hand to my burning cheek and slowly turned to look at the man I had loved for ten years. Ten years. From college sweethearts on campus, to building a company from nothing side by side, to standing together as the president and first lady of Frost Group. I had been with him through the hardest years of his life. I had given him a piece of my own body. And now, for a woman who had walked away from him five years ago, he had hit me. “Caleb, stop it…” Scarlett grabbed Caleb’s sleeve, her voice dripping with false concern. “Victoria just cares about you.” “She cares about me?” Caleb spat through clenched teeth. “She can’t wait for me to drop dead so she can get her hands on everything in Frost Group.” I stood there watching them, and suddenly the whole thing struck me as absurd. I laughed. “Fine, Caleb. Remember what you just said.” I didn’t look at either of them again. I turned and walked out of the lounge. Out in the hallway, a handful of executives and assistants were craning their necks, peering in our direction. The moment they saw me, they dropped their eyes and pretended nothing had happened. But I knew. By tomorrow, the whole company would be talking — the CEO’s wife got slapped in front of everyone, and the mistress had officially won. I straightened my spine, held my head up, and walked out of the banquet hall one deliberate step at a time, heels clicking against the floor. The night air outside was brutal. It hit my face like a blade. I pulled open the car door, dropped into the driver’s seat, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. My knuckles turned white. The scar along my right side had started to ache again — that dull, familiar throb. It was the mark left by the kidney surgery. A scar that would never fully go away. I took a slow, deep breath and forced the tightness in my chest back down. Victoria, don’t you dare cry. He’s not worth a single tear. I pulled out a tissue and dabbed the corners of my eyes. Then my gaze drifted down to my dress — a few small brown splatters on the hem. That strange smell hit me again. Sweet and metallic at the same time. Something was wrong. That was not the smell of ordinary broth.

Downtown General Hospital. Laboratory. Julian stood in his white coat, brow furrowed, staring at the tissue I’d handed him. He was my senior in college, and the youngest attending physician this hospital had ever had. Six months ago, he was the one who performed the kidney transplant surgery — the one between me and Caleb. “What happened to your face?” His eyes went straight to the swelling on my cheek. “Got bit by a dog,” I said flatly. “Julian, can you run a test on whatever’s on this tissue?” He studied me for a long moment, then didn’t ask anything more. He took the tissue and disappeared into the lab. Waiting is always its own kind of torture. I sat on a bench in the hallway, and my mind kept replaying it — Caleb’s hand, swinging toward my face. For Scarlett. No hesitation in his eyes. No guilt. Just cold, bone-deep contempt. Why? Even if he didn’t love me anymore. Even if Scarlett was the only one who mattered to him. That didn’t explain this level of hatred. Unless… Scarlett had told him something. Two hours later, Julian came back out holding a report. His expression was grim. More than grim — there was something almost like shock on his face. “Vicky.” His voice was careful. “I need you to tell me the truth. Where did this come from?” “Caleb’s assistant made him a batch of broth.” My stomach dropped. “Why? Is it poisoned?” Julian exhaled slowly and handed me the report. “Not ordinary poison. The broth contains a high concentration of Ghost Poppy extract — and a rare neurotoxin.” “Ghost Poppy?” I blinked. “It’s a controlled substance.” His voice dropped low. “It doesn’t just cause addiction — severe psychological dependency. But what makes it truly dangerous is what happens when it’s combined with that neurotoxin. Together, they produce a slow, targeted destruction effect on transplanted organs.” My entire body went cold. The blood in my veins felt like it had stopped moving. “What does that mean?” “It means this substance mimics transplant rejection. It attacks the new kidney inside Caleb’s body — slowly, piece by piece. Within six months, his kidney function will fail completely.” Julian looked at me, and his eyes were filled with something that looked like dread. “Victoria, whoever did this isn’t just trying to control him. They want him dead. And it’s almost impossible to trace — even at autopsy, it would look like natural post-operative rejection.” “This is a perfect murder.” My mind went completely blank. Murder. Scarlett wanted to kill Caleb? Why?She’d been saying she loved him since the moment she came back. She’d barely been off the plane before she was by his side. If Caleb died, what would she gain? “Victoria, this is serious.” Julian’s voice cut through the silence. “We have to go to the police. Right now.” “No.” I snapped back to the present and grabbed his arm. “We can’t.” “Why not? His life is in danger!” “Because I have no proof.” I said through gritted teeth. “The residue on that tissue isn’t nearly enough to prove Scarlett did anything. She could just turn around and claim I planted it to frame her. Caleb is completely wrapped around her finger right now — he’ll never believe me.” What mattered more was figuring out why Scarlett was doing this. What was she hiding? “Julian, please keep this between us for now. Don’t tell anyone.” I looked at him, pleading. Julian let out a sigh and wrapped his hand around mine. “Okay. I promise. But Victoria — you have to protect yourself. That woman is far more dangerous than you think.” By the time I left the hospital, it was deep into the night. I came home to an empty villa. The living room was dark. Caleb hadn’t come home. Since Scarlett came back, he’d been staying out more and more often. I walked over to the bar cart, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and downed it in one go. The burn traced down my throat and into my stomach — and somehow, it cleared my head like nothing else could. Scarlett. You set up this whole game. Fine. Let’s play. I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Hey, Jack. I need you to look into someone.” Jack was the best private investigator in the business. As long as the money was right, there wasn’t a secret he couldn’t dig up. “Victoria. Go ahead.” “Scarlett — personal assistant to the president of Frost Group. I want everything on her from the past five years abroad. Phone records, bank statements, and… every single person she’s had contact with since coming back.”

I hung up and stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the city lights below. Caleb. You think you’ve found true love. But you just walked straight into a trap with no way out. And when it all falls apart, I’ll be the one left to deal with what’s left of you. The next morning, I did what I always did. Full makeup. A sharp, well-fitted blazer. I walked through the doors of Frost Group like I owned the place — because I did. As co-founder, I held thirty percent of the company’s shares. Outside of Caleb, I was the largest shareholder. Over the past two years, I’d stepped back from management to care for Caleb while he was sick. Now it was time to take back what was mine. I stepped off the elevator and immediately spotted Scarlett standing outside my office, directing a group of workers moving furniture around. “Careful with that — Caleb had that Italian leather sofa custom-ordered from overseas. Don’t scratch it.” She was in a Chanel couture dress, tossing orders around like she ran the place. When she saw me coming, she blinked — then broke into a slow, taunting smile. “Oh, Victoria! I didn’t expect to see you here. Didn’t Caleb tell you? He gave me this office.” Around us, employees stopped what they were doing, all ears. I said nothing. I walked straight up to her. Crack. I raised my hand and slapped her — hard. Every bit of strength I had behind it. Scarlett let out a sharp cry and hit the floor, one hand pressed to her cheek, staring up at me in disbelief. “You — you actually hit me?!” “Yeah, I hit you. What, did I need to make an appointment first?” I looked down at her, eyes cold as stone. “Scarlett, who exactly do you think you are? You slept your way into this company, and now you’re moving into my office?” “Victoria! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The voice came from behind me. Caleb came storming over, shoved me aside, and reached down to pull Scarlett up off the floor. “Scarlett, are you okay?” Scarlett sank into him, tears already streaming down her face. “Caleb, I just wanted to help take some of the workload off you… Is Victoria trying to push me out? Does she just — can’t stand having me here?” Caleb looked at Scarlett’s red, swollen cheek, his face tight. Then he turned on me, eyes blazing. “Victoria, are you done?! Scarlett is the new Project Director — this office is hers. She earned it!” “Project Director?” I let out a cold laugh. “Caleb, have you completely lost your mind? She has a background in art. What does she know about project management? What is this company to you — a playground for your little affair?” “Frost Group is my company. I’ll appoint whoever I want as director!” Caleb shot back without mercy. “Is that so?” I met his gaze head-on, unwavering. “Caleb, don’t forget — I hold thirty percent of the shares. Without my signature, none of your major personnel appointments are valid.” Caleb’s expression shifted. It seemed like he’d only just remembered that I wasn’t just his wife. I was a shareholder who could stand against him at the board table. “Victoria, do you have to fight me on everything?” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low. “I’m not the one picking a fight. You pushed me here.” My voice was cold. “You have ten minutes to throw her things out. If you don’t, we’ll settle this at tomorrow’s board meeting.” With that, I pushed open the door, walked into the office, and shut it behind me. Hard. From the other side of the door came the sound of Caleb cursing in frustration — and Scarlett’s soft, aggrieved sobbing. I settled into the wide office chair, took in the familiar surroundings, and felt the corner of my mouth pull into a cool smile. This is only the beginning, Caleb. Every single thing you two owe me — I’m going to collect it back, with interest. Over the next few days, I moved through the company like a blade, restructuring personnel. Every person Caleb had promoted — all of Scarlett’s allies — were either demoted or let go. Caleb was so furious he smashed a glass in his office. But there was nothing he could do to stop me. Because every decision I made was fully compliant with the company’s bylaws. There wasn’t a single thing to challenge. As for Scarlett — she stopped provoking me so openly. She went quiet. More restrained. She leaned into the perfect victim act, spending her days finding new ways to bring Caleb homemade soups.

I knew she was speeding up the poisoning. But I didn’t stop her. What I wanted was to catch her in the act. Three days later, Jack’s report landed in my inbox. I opened the file — dozens of pages long — and with every page I turned, something cold settled deeper into my chest. The five years Scarlett spent abroad had nothing to do with studying art. She’d sunk into gambling. Racked up a mountain of debt to loan sharks. And gotten hooked on drugs. She came back home to find herself a cash cow. And Caleb was the target she’d chosen. But the part that hit me hardest was the last section of the report. Six months ago — the very night Scarlett came back — a hit-and-run had occurred. The victim was a sanitation worker. He didn’t survive. Jack had managed to track down deleted security footage from a stretch of road near the scene through various channels. The footage was blurry, but clear enough. The car that struck the man was Caleb’s black Maybach. And the person who stepped out of the driver’s side was Scarlett. She looked around in a panic. Then she walked to the passenger side, dragged an unconscious Caleb into the driver’s seat. After that, she called a cab and left. When I reached that part, the blood in my veins went still. What a setup. No wonder Caleb did everything she said. No wonder he turned so cold toward me so suddenly. Scarlett hadn’t just been controlling his body with poison. She’d been holding this death over his head like a knife — using that night to keep him completely in her grip. Caleb believed he’d killed someone drunk behind the wheel. And Scarlett had covered it up for him, made herself his only lifeline. Caught between fear and guilt, he had no choice but to let her pull his strings like a dog on a leash. I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair, letting out a long, slow breath. Caleb. You were sharp your whole life, and you let one woman bring you down. You threw the wife who saved you under your feet for her. Are you satisfied now? Once I had the evidence, I didn’t move immediately to expose Scarlett. Because it still wasn’t enough. A hit-and-run charge would put her away for a few years at most. That was letting her off too easy. I wanted her — and Caleb — to feel what it was like to fall from the top of the world straight into hell. I began quietly selling off my shares in Frost Group, moving the funds into an offshore shell company I’d registered in advance. At the same time, I had Jack keep watching Scarlett — especially any contact between her and the mystery person supplying the poison. Sure enough, Jack soon confirmed that Scarlett had been meeting regularly with a black market doctor named Frank. The Ghost Poppy extract. Frank was her source. I went to see Frank myself. In front of one million dollars in cash and a recording of Frank practicing medicine without a license, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He sold Scarlett out without blinking. “Victoria, what do you need me to do?” Frank stared at the cash on the table, eyes practically glowing. “Keep supplying her,” I said coldly. “But increase the dosage. I want Caleb’s rejection response to hit early.” Since Caleb loved Scarlett’s soup so much, I’d make sure he got his fill. I wanted him to feel it firsthand — what it was like to be slowly poisoned, drop by drop, by the woman he loved most. Frank swallowed hard and nodded repeatedly. “Understood. Understood.” When I got home, Caleb was sitting in the living room — which was rare. His face was even paler than it had been a few days ago, his eyes shot through with red, his whole body radiating a restless, frantic energy. The moment he saw me walk in, he shot to his feet. “Victoria, what the hell are you trying to do? Why do you keep going after Scarlett at the company?” I slipped on my house shoes and glanced at him without much interest. “Going after her? Caleb, I think you’ve got it wrong. I’m just doing my job as a shareholder — cleaning out the dead weight.” “Bullshit!” Caleb roared. “You’re jealous! You’re jealous that I love her and not you!” I looked at his face — twisted with rage and the early signs of the toxin working through him — and felt nothing. “You’re right. I am jealous.” I stepped closer and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m jealous that she got you to drink that poisoned soup without a second thought. I’m jealous that she has you so far gone you’d throw your own life away for her.” Caleb froze. His eyes shifted, just slightly. “What are you talking about? What poison?” “Deep down, you already know.” I let out a cold laugh. “Caleb — lately, have you been feeling it? Aching in your lower back, lying awake at night, maybe even seeing things that aren’t there?” Caleb’s pupils snapped tight. Sweat broke out across his forehead. “You… how do you know that?” “Because it’s what you deserve.” I leaned close to his ear and said it slowly, one word at a time. “Caleb, enjoy every bit of love Scarlett has to give. I promise — this is only the beginning.” Then I pushed past him and walked straight upstairs. Behind me, I heard him smashing things. I knew what that meant. The toxin had started to take hold.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “430692”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On a night of torrential rain, I fled barefoot from the hell of Southeast Asia back to my home, my soles streaming with blood all the way. I endured three years in a water dungeon, with blood drawn and medicines tested on me every single day. All ten of my fingernails were pulled out completely. I’d thought that what awaited me would be the heartfelt compassion of my loved ones. My husband handed me the organ-donation agreement, and my older brother coldly accused me of bringing this on myself. “Lily has kidney failure, and your tissue match is perfect.” “It was I who sold you to the human trafficker—you should have repaid her.” It turns out that the man I’d loved for ten years—and the brother I’d trusted for twenty—was the one who had pushed me into the abyss. They’re going to harvest my kidneys and extract my bone marrow to nourish a foster daughter who has usurped the rightful heir’s place. On the operating table, restraints are fastened around my limbs, and the anesthetic needle is about to pierce my skin. I grabbed the scalpel and plunged it fiercely into my own kidney. Six months later, I transformed into Roxana Vance, the president of a multinational corporation, and made a powerful comeback alongside Valerius City’s top-tier tycoon. However, the once-arrogant scumbag and my so-called “brother” have gone completely crazy.

“Sign it.” Alistair Montgomery sat on the leather sofa and casually tossed me an organ donation agreement without even lifting a glance. He was idly fiddling with a custom-made lighter, his voice colder than the torrential rain outside. “Lily’s kidney failure has worsened, and your tissue match is a perfect fit.” I was soaked to the bone and collapsed onto the ground like a ragdoll. I stared in disbelief at the man before me—the one I’d loved for ten years. “I just escaped from the scamming district…” My voice is hoarse, and it feels like I’ve swallowed a blade in my throat. “I was locked in a water dungeon by them for three whole years, with blood being drawn from me and drugs being tested on me every single day.” I raised my hands, trembling. All ten fingernails were forcibly torn off, leaving behind only deformed growths of flesh now. “You don’t ask me how I’ve been these past three years—instead, as soon as we meet, you’re already asking for my kidney?” Victor Sterling, sitting on the other side, let out a cold laugh. He is my blood-related older brother. Yet right now, he’s looking at me with the same gaze one would give to trash. “Sloane, stop playing the poor victim.” “If it hadn’t been for your jealousy of Lily and your insistence on running away from home, how could you have been abducted by human traffickers?” “You’re only getting what you deserve.” I jerked my head up and stared at him intently. “Did I run away from home?” “Three years ago that night, it was Lily who sent me a message saying she’d gotten lost at the dock and asked me to pick her up!” “When I got there, several men knocked me unconscious and took me aboard the boat!” Alistair finally raised his head. He looked at me, his eyes devoid of any trace of emotion. “It was me who sent your location to those people.” Boom— It was as if a thunderbolt had exploded in my mind. I stared at him blankly, thinking I must have misheard. “What did you say?” Alistair stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me from above. “Lily has been in poor health since childhood, and she needs a healthy donor.” “Now that you’ve held the position of the Sterling family’s young heiress for so many years, it’s about time you repaid her.” “I’m sending you away to let you experience a bit of hardship out there—so you’ll learn to behave yourself.” Victor tapped the ash off his cigarette casually, his tone light and nonchalant. “I personally went to the police station to close your missing-persons case.” “Outwardly, we’re claiming that you stole money from the family and ran away with a strange man.” “This way, the reputations of the Sterling family and the Montgomery family won’t be tarnished.” My heart felt as if it had been brutally crushed by an invisible giant hand. The pain is so intense that I can’t breathe. Three years. More than a thousand days and nights. In that dark, sunless dungeon, I was treated like an animal. Relying on my longing for them, I’ve struggled time and again to snatch myself back from the clutches of death. I thought they must be frantically looking for me. Result. The very people who pushed me into hell with their own hands are my beloved husband and my closest brother. “Why…” I was lying on the floor, tears mixed with blood splattering onto the carpet. “Lily is just an adopted daughter! I’m your real younger sister!” I screamed hysterically at Victor. Victor’s face darkened, and he suddenly strode over, kicking me hard in the solar plexus. “Shut up!” “Although Lily is an adopted daughter, she’s kinder and more sensible than you!” “Besides causing trouble, what else can you do?” I was kicked so hard that I flew backward and crashed into the coffee table. My throat went sweet, and I spat out a large mouthful of fresh blood. Alistair frowned, as if he were annoyed that I’d stained the carpet. “Don’t waste your time talking to her.” “Sign the document, and we’ll schedule the surgery for tomorrow.” “Besides the kidney, Lily also needs your bone marrow.” “Since your life is so tough, just donate some bone marrow and have a kidney removed—you won’t die.” I clutched my chest and let out a bitter laugh. I’m laughing so hard my eyes are watering. “What if I don’t sign?” Alistair looked at me coldly. “Not signing?” “Then I’ll just send you back to the high seas.” “I heard the black market over there is very interested in organs from young women like you.” “By then, it won’t be as simple as just removing a kidney.” My heart is completely dead. This is the man I’ve loved for ten years. This is the older brother I’ve been calling for twenty years. I bit my teeth and pulled myself up from the ground. “Okay, I’ll sign.” I picked up the pen and made a heavy mark on the agreement. Not a signature. Instead, it tore through the entire sheet of paper. “I’d rather die than give my organs to that bitch!” Alistair was furious. “Lock her in the basement!” “Starve her for three days, and I’ll see if she signs!”

There is no light in the basement. Only bone-chilling cold and a musty smell. I huddled in the corner, trembling all over. My stomach feels like it’s on fire. The wound on my body reopened due to the earlier tugging, and blood was seeping out. I don’t know how much time had passed. The iron door creaked open with a “creak.” A beam of light shone in. Lilith Sterling wore an immaculate haute couture dress and stepped in crystal shoes, looking like a noble princess. She walked up to me and looked down at me from above. “Sloane, it’s been three years—how could you have turned into such a ghostly mess?” She covered her mouth and let out a soft giggle. I stared at her intently. The one she’s wearing around her neck is an heirloom my mother left me—a priceless pink diamond necklace. “Give it back to me…” I struggled to lunge forward. The bodyguard behind Lilith kicked me hard, sending me flying onto the ground. The leather shoes stepped heavily on my face. “Don’t touch me—you stink so bad.” Lilith stepped back two paces in disgust. “Sloane, you still don’t know, do you?” “These past three years, Alistair has been so kind to me.” “He transferred all the shares that originally belonged to you into my name.” “Victor also handed over the reins of the Sterling family to me.” “You’re nothing now.” I bit down hard, and tasted the metallic flavor of blood in my mouth. “You’re not sick at all!” “You’ve been faking illness to fool them!” Lilith crouched down, leaned close to my ear, and lowered her voice. “Yeah, I’m not sick.” “My kidneys are in great shape, and my bone marrow is also very healthy.” “But I just want yours.” “Why is it that you were born an heiress of the Sterling family, while I’m just an unwanted orphan?” “Why is it that you get to marry Alistair, while I’m stuck calling him ‘brother’?” “I’m going to take everything from you, bit by bit.” “Including your organs.” She laughed like a demon. “Did you know? The night you were sold to the high seas, Alistair was spending my birthday with me.” “He personally put this necklace around my neck.” “He said, Only I am worthy of something this beautiful.” My heart suddenly felt a sharp pain. The pain was so intense that I almost fainted. “You crazy person…” Lilith stood up and smoothed out the hem of her dress. Suddenly, she let out a gasp and fell backward all at once. Fell heavily to the ground. “Ah! That hurts!” The basement door was pushed open again. Alistair and Victor burst in. Seeing Lilith lying on the ground, both of them turned pale with shock. “Lily!” Alistair pulled her into his arms in one swift motion, his face full of concern. Lilith’s eyes were red and swollen, and tears were dripping down her cheeks one after another. “Alistair, don’t blame Sloane.” “She just pushed me because she hated me so much.” “I’m fine, cough…” She coughed weakly twice, and a trace of blood unexpectedly seeped from the corner of her mouth. Victor’s eyes were about to burst with rage. He rushed over, grabbed my hair in one hand, and dragged me off the ground. “Sloane! You’re asking for it!” “Slap!” A heavy slap landed on my face. My ears are ringing, and my vision keeps going dark. “Lily kindly came to see you, and yet you dare lay a hand on her!” “Do you really think I wouldn’t dare to kill you?!” I hung my head weakly, lacking even the strength to offer an explanation. What’s the point of explanation? They believe only in Lilith. Alistair held Lilith in his arms, his gaze cold as he looked at me. “Since you’re feeling so energetic, there’s no need to wait.” “Let’s do the surgery tonight.” I suddenly raised my head. “I didn’t sign it! You’re breaking the law!” Alistair let out a cold laugh. “In River City, I am the law.” “Take her to the hospital!” Several bodyguards rushed forward, roughly grabbed me, and started dragging me out. I fought desperately, but it was completely useless. I was dragged out of the Montgomery family mansion like a dying dog. 3 Private Hospital. Top-floor Operating Room. I was forced into a hospital gown and pinned down on the freezing surgical table. The blinding surgical lights beat down on my face, leaving me unable to open my eyes. Thick leather restraints bound my hands and feet tightly in place. I was nothing but meat on a chopping block, at their mercy. Beyond the glass window, Alistair and Victor stood shoulder to shoulder. They stared at me with expressionless faces, as if I were nothing more than a lifeless object. Lilith lay on another surgical table nearby. Through the curtain, I could hear her frail voice. “Alistair, I’m scared…” Alistair’s voice came through the intercom, dripping with a tenderness that could melt ice. “Don’t be afraid. Just sleep, and it will all be over.” “When you wake up, everything will be better.” It was that exact same tenderness he had once shown me. Now, it was a blade driven straight into my heart. The lead surgeon approached, wearing a mask. In his hand was a syringe filled with a clear liquid. “Mrs. Montgomery, relax,” he said coldly, aiming the needle at my vein. I stared at the sharp tip of the needle. Flashes of the past three years on the high seas flooded my mind. I saw Alistair’s indifferent face, Victor’s disgusted gaze and Lilith’s triumphant smirk. No. I couldn’t let them have their way. Even in death, I would never give my organs to that vicious woman! A surge of inexplicable strength exploded from within my body. I twisted my wrists with every ounce of power I had left. The rough restraints tore through my flesh. The blood that spilled out acted as a lubricant. Click. The restraint on my right hand gave way. A fraction of a second before the doctor’s needle could pierce my skin, I yanked my hand free and violently overturned the surgical tray beside me. Metal instruments scattered across the floor. I snatched up a sharp scalpel. The doctor panicked, stumbling backward. “What are you doing?!” Outside the glass, Alistair and Victor’s expressions instantly changed. “Sloane! Put the knife down!” Alistair roared, pounding frantically against the glass. Clutching the scalpel, I slowly sat up. My left hand was still bound, but I didn’t care. I turned my head and stared dead through the glass at them. A tragic, bloody smile curved my lips. “You want my kidney, don’t you?” “You want my bone marrow?” “Here. I’ll give it to you.” Without hesitation, I raised the scalpel, aimed it at my right flank, and drove it down with all my might! Squish— The sickening sound of flesh being pierced echoed with terrifying clarity in the silent operating room. Blood gushed instantly, soaking the white bedsheets crimson. “Ahh!” Lilith shrieked in terror from the next table. Outside the glass, Alistair and Victor’s eyes widened in absolute horror. “Sloane! You’re insane!” Alistair screamed, smashing his fists against the glass. I didn’t stop. I pulled the blade out and plunged it back in. Once. Twice. Three times. With every ounce of strength I possessed, I completely destroyed the kidney they so desperately coveted. Agony sent violent spasms through my entire body. Yet, I felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria. “I’d rather destroy it… than give it to that bitch…” Through my fading vision, I saw Alistair burst into the operating room. I saw the sheer panic on his face as he desperately tried to press against my wound. Blood sprayed through his fingers, staining his pristine white shirt crimson. “Doctor! Save her! Do something!” he bellowed at the paralyzed medical staff. Victor rushed in right behind him. Seeing the bed drenched in blood, his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. “Sloane…” He reached out with trembling hands, too terrified to even touch me. Using the very last thread of my strength, I shoved Alistair’s hand away. “Don’t touch me… You’re filthy…” “Alistair… Victor…” “I curse you…” “In this life and the next… may you never find peace in death…” My vision began to blur. The voices around me faded into the distance. On the heart monitor, the undulating line slowly flattened out. Beeeeeeeeep— The piercing, continuous tone filled the room. I closed my eyes. Finally, I was free. 4 Beep… Beep… Beep… The rhythmic sound of medical monitors echoed in my ears. My eyes snapped open. I gasped for air, my chest heaving. Staring up at me was an unfamiliar ceiling. A luxurious crystal chandelier cast a soft, warm glow. There were no blinding surgical lights, no suffocating stench of disinfectant. Instead, the air was filled with the faint, calming scent of agarwood. “Awake?” A deep, icy male voice drifted from the floor-to-ceiling window. I turned my head. A man in a black silk shirt stood there. He was tall and imposing, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. As he turned around, a sharply chiseled face came into view. His features were strikingly handsome, and his eyes were as piercing as an eagle’s. He exuded an overwhelming aura of absolute authority. “Who are you?” I shrank back in alarm, pulling at the wound on my waist. A sharp pain made me suck in a breath. “Don’t move.” The man took long strides toward me and pressed down on my shoulder. “I snatched your life back from the God of Death. Don’t cheapen it.” “My name is Julian.” Julian? The untouchable, ruthless crown prince of River City? Rumor had it he was as unpredictable as he was ruthless, ruling both the underworld and the legitimate business world. “You saved me?” I looked at him, my eyes guarded. “Why?” I couldn’t believe a man of his stature would waste his mercy on a worthless, discarded wife. Julian pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his long legs. His posture was languid, yet it carried an unquestionable authority. “The lead surgeon was my man. ” “He injected you with a death-mimicking drug and fooled Alistair and Victor.” In their eyes, you are nothing but a pile of ashes now.” I froze. I was dead? The realization sent a wave of euphoric joy crashing through my heart. I was finally free of those two demons! “As for why I saved you…” Julian pulled a yellowed photograph from his pocket and handed it to me. On it was a young girl with a radiant, flower-like smile. “Her name was Zoe. My younger sister. ” “Two years ago, she was tricked onto that cruise ship on the high seas. ” “When those people were about to beat her to death, you took the blow for her.” “Although she eventually passed away from her illness, I, Julian, have remembered this debt.” I stared at the girl in the photo. My memories slowly began to resurface. The little girl in the lower deck, crying and calling for her brother… She was Julian’s sister. “I’ve looked into your past.” Julian’s eyes turned ice-cold, and the temperature around him seemed to drop several degrees. “Alistair and Victor drove you to the brink of death for a fake. ” “Do you want revenge?” Revenge? Those word was like a spark, instantly igniting the rage I had suppressed for years. I touched the thick bandages on my waist. I thought of the torment I had endured for three years, and the cruel expressions on their faces when they forced me to donate my organs. My gaze turned vicious. “Yes. I want it more than anything!” I want to strip them of everything and make them wish they were dead!” Julian’s lips curved into a satisfied, dangerously wicked smile. “Good. ” “From today onward, Sloane is dead. ” “You are Roxana Vance, the Executive President of Vance Group North America.” “I will give you the best resources and the most powerful backing.” “I will let you stand before them with your head held high, and collect every ounce of what they owe you, with interest!” The following six months were a hellish rebirth. Julian arranged the most elite medical team to reconstruct my broken body. My fingernails grew back. Though scarred, they were no longer deformed. The wound on my waist healed into a hideous, yet proud medal of honor. During the day, I learned corporate warfare and the art of manipulation from Julian. At night, I drenched the gym in sweat, practicing combat and self-defense. I shed Sloane’s weakness and naivety, transforming into the cold-blooded and decisive Roxana. The woman in the mirror had a sleek, shoulder-length bob. Her eyes were ice-cold, her lips a fiery red. The girl who had once endured endless humiliation was gone forever. “Ready?” Julian stood behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I curved my lips, a bloodthirsty glint flashing in my eyes. “Of course. It’s about time the game began.”

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To cover the astronomical medical bills, I married Finn Waterford as a stand-in bride — the billionaire everyone said had less than three months to live. On our wedding night, he sat in his wheelchair, coughing up blood, yet he pinned me down on the bed like a madman. His cold fingers dug into my waist, and by the time he was done with me, I was barely alive. The next day, they quietly shipped him abroad for treatment — and he was never heard from again. Everyone said I was about to inherit a fortune worth hundreds of billions and planned to keeping a Boy toy. Then, ten months later, I gave birth in the villa’s bathtub — to a creature whose lower half was a ghostly blue fish tail. I hadn’t even figured out what to do with this monster when the villa’s front door swung open. The man who was supposed to be dying on foreign soil walked in, trailing the chill of the deep sea, and stood right in front of me. Midnight. The villa’s heated rooftop pool. I was soaking wet, my face pale as a ghost, floating in the water with a newborn clutched tightly to my chest. No — not a newborn. Beneath the rippling surface, a fish tail covered in deep blue scales shimmered with an eerie glow, coiling gently around my thigh. Ice-cold. Slick. This was my own flesh and blood. Ten months in my womb, and this is what came out. Just a few hours ago, I had been writhing in agony on the bathroom floor, biting down on a towel as I gave birth to him alone. No doctor. No nurse. Because I couldn’t let anyone see this monster. I had assumed Finn was on his way dying. All I had to do was give birth to the Waterford heir, collect the rest of my payment, and use it to save my sister. But instead, I had given birth to a monster. My mind was spinning as I tried to figure out how to secretly smuggle this tailed freak out of here when — CLICK. Every blinding light around the pool snapped on at once. I squeezed my eyes shut against the glare and instinctively pressed the baby deeper under the water. My oversized silk nightgown spread out across the surface, barely concealing the blue tail beneath. “Well, darling. Fancy finding you here — swimming at midnight.” A low, hoarse voice cut through the empty air around the pool, laced with a bone-chilling cold. My whole body went rigid. My blood ran cold. Finn. He was seated in a wheelchair, being pushed by several bodyguards dressed in black. He had lost so much weight he was nearly unrecognizable — his already sharp features now looked even more severe and menacing. The collar of his black shirt hung open, his collarbone pale and completely bloodless. Wasn’t he supposed to be in the ICU overseas?! “F… Finn. When did you come back?” My teeth were chattering, my body instinctively backing away. The little monster beneath the water seemed to sense my fear. It squirmed restlessly, its ice-cold tail fin brushing against the sensitive skin of my calf, sending a shudder through me. Finn’s gaze was like two surgical scalpels — fixed on me, unblinking. My wet silk nightgown clung to every curve of my body. But he wasn’t looking at that. His eyes were locked on the bulge I was clutching tightly to my chest. “Get out of the water,” he ordered. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that left no room for argument. “I… I’m not wearing anything underneath, and the water’s warm. Let me stay in a little longer.” I scrambled for excuses, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. Finn suddenly smiled. It was the kind of smile that made my skin crawl. He raised his hand and snapped his long, pale fingers. The bodyguards moved immediately. Ignoring my screams, they jumped into the pool, grabbed me by both arms, and hauled me out of the water by force. SPLASH. Water flew everywhere. I fought desperately to keep the baby wrapped inside my skirt as I was dragged out and dumped at the foot of Finn’s wheelchair, soaking wet and gasping. Finn leaned down. His ice-cold fingers closed around my jaw and forced my head up. His face was inches from mine. Close enough that I could smell him — something sharp and strange, like deep-sea kelp and blood mixed together. He drew a slow breath in, his nose nearly grazing my neck. “Why do you smell so strongly of… the sea?” His voice dropped to a murmur, but his eyes shifted in an instant — dark and dangerous. I was trembling so hard I could barely hold on. And that was when the little monster in my arms let out a tiny, weak whimper. Finn’s gaze dropped — straight to the bundle I was desperately pressing against my skirt.

“What is that?” Finn’s fingers slid down from my jaw to my neckline and stopped there. That icy touch crept across my skin like a snake. “It’s… it’s nothing! A stray cat!” I clutched the bundle tighter, my fingernails digging into my own flesh. If he found out it was a mermaid, he would cut us both to pieces and feed us to the dogs. Finn let out a cold laugh. Then, in one sharp motion, he grabbed my nightgown and tore it open. RIIIP — The sound of the fabric shredding cut through the silence around the empty pool. I squeezed my eyes shut in despair, bracing for the storm. But the thunderous rage I’d been expecting never came. Dead silence. Trembling, I forced my eyes open — and froze. The creature in my arms — the one that had just moments ago had a dark blue fish tail — had transformed into a perfectly normal baby. Chubby little legs, soft rosy skin, like something carved from jade. He was sucking on his own fingers, staring up at Finn with wide, innocent dark eyes. Where was the tail?! My mind went completely blank. Finn stared at the baby, his expression unreadable. He reached out — his hand so pale you could trace the blue veins beneath the skin — and roughly pinched the baby’s leg. The baby yelped in pain and burst into tears. “Finn, what the hell are you doing!” I don’t know where I found the strength, but I shoved his hand away and pulled the baby tight against my chest, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This was my flesh and blood. Even if he was some kind of monster, I wasn’t going to let anyone treat him badly. Finn stumbled from my shove and broke into a violent coughing fit. It sounded like it was tearing him apart from the inside. His bodyguard rushed to hand him a handkerchief, and the white fabric instantly bloomed with a vivid splash of red. He wiped the corner of his mouth with bloodied fingers, eyes fixed on me, a cruel smile pulling at his lips. “Lyra Oceanus, you’d better pray this child is actually mine.” Then he had someone wheel him away, without looking back once. I didn’t move until his silhouette disappeared completely. Then all the strength drained from my body and I crumpled to the floor. I looked down at the baby in my arms. The moment Finn left, faint blue scales shimmered across the baby’s soft legs — then sank back beneath the skin just as quickly. He… could disguise himself as a human? I swallowed hard, staring at this impossible little life in my arms, and felt a wild idea take hold. The Waterford family was a man-eating hell, and Finn was an unpredictable, dangerous man. I couldn’t leave the baby here. I had to take him and run — even if it meant selling every piece of jewelry I owned, even if it meant fleeing to the ends of the earth. Three days later, using a routine medical check-up as cover, I shook off my bodyguard and took the baby to a hidden underground black market. Not to sell him — to buy two smuggling tickets out of the country. The contact was a one-eyed man. When I slid the emerald necklace across to him — worth millions — his one good eye lit up. “Mrs. Waterford, smuggling is rough business.” He leered at me. “You really think that you can handle it?” I kept my expression cold. “Save it. I need to leave tonight.” That’s when something started thrashing violently inside the custom insulated carrier strapped to my chest. Then water began seeping through the bag — soaking through the fabric and dripping down my clothes. “What do you have in there?” The one-eyed man’s face changed. He reached out to grab it. “Don’t—” I wasn’t fast enough. A burst of force ripped the zipper clean open. A dark blue fish tail whipped out and smacked the one-eyed man straight across the face. SMACK. He let out a howl and flew backward into a table, blood streaming from his nose. The entire black market erupted into chaos. “A mon…monster — it’s a mermaid!” someone shrieked. My skin crawled with dread. I shoved the baby back into the bag and ran. The little one seemed to know he’d caused trouble. Guilty little gurgles came from inside the bag. And as if answering him, every water pipe in the black market burst at once — high-pressure jets spraying everywhere, cutting off anyone trying to chase me. I used the chaos to escape, ducking into a dead-end alley. I slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, and pulled the bag open to check. The little troublemaker was looking up at me with clear blue eyes, tiny fist clutching the hem of my shirt, rubbing against it like he was trying to win me over. My heart melted completely. “You little menace,” I laughed softly and kissed his forehead. “From now on, your name is Nova Waterford.” Chapter 3### The escape plan had failed. I had no choice but to drag myself back to the Waterford estate. The moment I stepped through the front door, I felt it — something was wrong. The living room was lined with bodyguards. Finn sat on the sofa, idly turning a sharp Swiss Army knife over in his fingers. And standing beside him was a woman in a white coat — a striking figure with sharp, arrogant eyes. Dr. Catherine Lockhart. Finn’s chief personal physician. And, according to rumor, the only woman Finn had ever trusted. “Where were you?” Finn didn’t even glance up. His voice was ice cold. “I… I’m going to buy something for the baby.” I instinctively pulled my bag tighter against my chest. Catherine clicked her heels across the floor and stopped in front of me, staring down at me with cold authority. “Mrs. Waterford, you’re well aware of Mr. Waterford’s condition. To ensure the purity of the Waterford family bloodline, we need to run a full genetic test on the child.” A genetic test? That would blow Nova’s cover — his mermaid identity would be exposed! “No!” I shrieked like a mother hen shielding her chick. “He’s still so small — drawing blood will hurt him! I have a paternity test report!” I frantically dug through my bag and pulled out the fake report I’d paid a doctor a fortune to forge, thrusting it toward Finn. “Finn, look — this is really your child.” Finn took the report. His long fingers moved slowly across the surface of the paper. Then, without warning, he seized my wrist and yanked hard. I gasped as I stumbled forward and fell against his chest. Ravaged by illness as he was, his strength was staggering. He wrapped one arm around my waist and picked up the lighter from the table with his other hand — click — a flame. The pale blue fire licked at the paternity test report and turned it to ash in seconds. “You think I’d trust a piece of paper?” His lips were at my ear, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of something dangerous. The temperature of his body was unsettlingly cold — nothing like a living person’s warmth. His nose grazed the side of my neck, like a predator catching the scent of its prey. “Lyra, you’re hiding something.” He parted his lips and let his cold teeth graze my earlobe, sending a shiver straight through me. “I’m going to peel back every layer, one by one, until I see it all.” Catherine watched from the side, a flicker of jealousy and venom crossing her face before she masked it. “Mr. Waterford, since your wife won’t cooperate, we’ll have to take more forceful measures.” Catherine waved her hand. Several bodyguards stepped forward immediately, pinning me down on the sofa and tearing Nova from my arms. “No! Give him back to me!” I thrashed wildly, my nails raking deep red lines across the backs of the bodyguards’ hands. Catherine picked up a large syringe and walked toward Nova with a cold smirk. Nova had been placed on the glass coffee table. He seemed to sense the danger — his little face flushed deep red, and faint blue light began flickering across his pale little legs. He was going to transform! If he transformed now, it was over! “Finn! Tell them to stop! That is your own son!” I screamed until my voice broke, tears blurring everything in front of me. Finn watched with icy detachment. Those dark eyes held not a single trace of human emotion. Just as Catherine’s needle was about to pierce Nova’s thigh — Bang! Every floor-to-ceiling window in the villa exploded without warning. Chapter 4 A violent wall of wind and rain burst into the living room. Catherine was knocked off her feet by the force of it, the syringe shattering as it hit the floor. Nova seized the moment — he rolled across the coffee table, launched himself into the air, and landed perfectly inside my open neckline, pressing himself flat against my skin and trembling. I clapped my hand over my chest and held him close. “What the hell is going on?!” Catherine scrambled to her feet and screamed. The color had drained completely from Finn’s face the moment the glass shattered. He shot to his feet, and the body that had seemed so frail just moments ago suddenly radiated a terrifying, crushing pressure. He stared hard at the black sky beyond the broken windows, a faint golden glint flickering deep in his eyes. “Get out.” Finn said, cold and flat. “Mr. Waterford…” Catherine wasn’t ready to give up. “I said get out!” Finn snapped his head around, his gaze murderous. Catherine went white with fright and scrambled out of the living room with the bodyguards stumbling behind her. The vast living room fell silent — just me and Finn. The howling wind sent the crystal chandelier swaying above us. Finn walked toward me, step by step. With every step he took, I felt the air around me drop a few degrees colder. He stopped in front of me, looking down, his gaze settling on my chest where it visibly bulged. “Take him out.” His voice left no room for argument. “No…” I shook my head frantically, tears mixing with rain and running into my mouth — bitter and cold. Finn didn’t waste words. He reached directly into my neckline. His cold fingers met the warmth of my skin, and I flinched. He found Nova immediately and pulled him out. Nova left my body with a sharp, piercing shriek. That sound was nothing a human baby could ever make — shrill enough to cut straight through the soul. With that cry, Nova’s legs transformed completely into a deep-blue fish tail, thrashing wildly in Finn’s hands. It was over. Everything was over. I squeezed my eyes shut in despair, bracing for Finn’s fury. But a long moment passed, and Finn said nothing. I opened my eyes — and saw something I would never forget for the rest of my life. Finn was staring fixedly at Nova’s blue tail. Those eyes of his, once pitch-black, had shifted into something unnatural: slitted pupils, radiating an eerie, commanding golden light. And on his neck — once pale and smooth — several scales had surfaced. Deep blue. Identical to Nova’s. “You…” I pointed at him in horror, unable to form a single complete sentence. Finn’s head snapped up. Those golden slit-pupils locked onto me. He suddenly dropped Nova and grabbed my throat, slamming me hard against the wall. “You saw it.” His voice had turned impossibly hoarse, carrying a metallic quality that was anything but human. He leaned in close and opened his mouth — and I saw that his teeth, once perfectly straight, had become sharp and jagged, like a shark’s. “Lyra. You know my secret now.” A slow, dangerous smile. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” His ice-cold lips pressed against my neck. The razor-sharp tips of his teeth grazed lightly over my carotid artery. My whole body went limp with terror. My mind went completely blank. This cold-blooded, all-powerful billionaire who dominated the entire business world — he was a monster too? “What… what are you…” I whispered, trembling. Finn laughed, low and quiet, the vibration rolling through his chest and into me. “What am I?” He grabbed his shirt and tore it open. Across his chest, his abdomen, and downward past his waist — deep-blue scales were spreading wildly, and his legs were visibly, horrifyingly shifting shape. “I am the nightmare of the deep sea.” His gaze met mine. “And I am your… husband.” He crushed his mouth against mine — ice-cold, domineering, overwhelmingly possessive, as if he meant to devour my very soul.

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The day after our flash marriage, I found out the man I’d married the night before was my ex-husband’s uncle. At a family dinner, Damon saw us walk in arm in arm—and crushed his wine glass with his bare hand. My new husband, Marcus Thorne, gripped my trembling hand and told Damon to call me Aunt. After that, the whole family exploded. Damon, my ex-mother-in-law, and Cross Sr. all surrounded us, pressuring me to divorce Marcus. When the pressure became unbearable and I finally pulled out the prenuptial agreement to end things, Marcus slapped a stack of photographs onto the table. They were photos from a contract signing event I’d attended as a company representative three years ago. In every shot, I was looking down at the documents. Marcus was standing slightly behind me, watching me—his expression so tender it almost didn’t look real. That’s when I realized: this so-called “flash marriage” was a scheme Marcus had been planning for a very long time. “Sloane, you have to go tonight!” Nicole was shoving me through the doors of a nightclub, and I was still thinking about Damon Cross. Three years of marriage, and he had publicly humiliated me—said I wasn’t good enough for him. Said I was just an ordinary office worker with no family name worth mentioning. Then he turned around and married a jewelry merchant’s daughter. Today was the anniversary of our divorce. Nicole called it a “love luck party.” Pay to get in, get randomly matched with a new guy—instant marriage, right then and there. “Are you crazy?” “You’re the one who’s crazy—it’s been three years and you still haven’t moved on.” She pressed a card into my hand. “The code is on the back. Find the host, say your code, and if you get a match, you go straight to city hall.” I glanced down at the back of the card, and my breath caught. It read: Damon Cross. Nicole’s explanation? The system had crunched some data and decided that my ex-husband’s name was the one most likely to help me let someone in again. Ridiculous. But the alcohol was hitting hard, and I decided to lean into the ridiculous. The nightclub lights were blinding, the noise overwhelming. The host was shouting from the stage: “Alright, all you single people out there! Pull out your code cards! Find someone with a matching code in ten seconds—and tonight, you’re heading to city hall to make it official!” I was getting pushed around by the crowd, card clutched in my fist. Everyone had gone completely wild, shouting codes at each other. Some guy yelled “Tesla” at me; I shook my head and kept moving. The seconds ticked by. As if in a trance, I flipped the card over and read the words aloud: “Damon Cross.” The words had barely left my lips when a pair of hands seized my wrists. The grip was so strong I nearly lost my footing. I looked up. A sharp, cold face stared back at me. The man was around thirty-five, dressed in a tailored suit—completely out of place in a crowd like this. His eyes were icy, locked onto mine, filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite read. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, with a dangerous edge. I wasn’t fully sober. Something in me just answered: “I’m sure.” He smiled. It sent a chill straight down my spine. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the exit—through the dance floor, through the crowd, like I weighed nothing. I stumbled after him, telling him to let go. He didn’t listen. By the time I came back to my senses, we were standing in front of city hall. Two in the morning, and city hall was fully lit—a special counter opened just for the flash marriage party. “Do you have your passport?” he asked. “No, I don’t…” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out two documents — his passport, and one that was… mine. My eyes went wide. “How do you have my passport?” “Your best friend gave it to me.” His voice was flat. “She knew you’d come.” Nicole. That traitor. “I’m not doing this.” I spun around to run. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close, his lips brushing my ear, his voice dropping so low it felt like a blade grazing skin. “You just said that name, didn’t you?” I went still. “Damon Cross.” Each word came out slow and deliberate — like he was chewing on something bitter. “Your ex-husband.” “How did you know he was—” He didn’t answer. He just shoved me through the doors of city hall. The next ten minutes felt like a nightmare. Photos, signatures, a stamp — and then a certificate was pressed into my hands. A marriage certificate. With my ex-husband’s uncle. By the time we stepped outside, the night breeze had sobered me up fast. I stared down at the certificate — his photo, completely expressionless — and laughed. It looked worse than crying. He stood under a streetlight, his shadow stretching long across the pavement. Smoke drifted up from between his fingers. I couldn’t read his face. “Congratulations,” he said. Not a shred of warmth in his voice. “Who are you, exactly?” He turned, and the streetlight caught the side of his face. That’s when I noticed the faint scar cutting through his left eyebrow — it made him look harder. Dangerous. “Marcus Thorne.” The name meant nothing to me. I’d never heard it before. “Do you know Damon?” His eyes changed. That split-second flash of ruthlessness made me step back. “We know each other.” He crushed out his cigarette, unhurried. “I’m his uncle.”

The marriage certificate slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. My heart seized. The suffocation hit me all at once, from every direction. He bent down and picked it up, pressed it back into my hand. His fingertips grazed the back of my hand — ice-cold, cutting. “What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?” I couldn’t speak. He smiled. That smile was more unsettling than any tears. “Too late, Sloane.” He said my name like it was nothing new. Like he’d been saying it his whole life. “The moment you spoke that name, you tied yourself to me. For good.” I stood there, watching him disappear into the dark. My phone buzzed. A Snapchat from Nicole: Congrats on the wedding, babe!!! I replied: Do you know who he is? She shot back instantly: Who? I typed out the name: Marcus. Damon’s uncle. She went quiet. Long enough that I thought her phone had crashed. Then a voice note came through, her voice shaking: “Sloane… you are so screwed.” I didn’t understand what she meant until the following afternoon. Nicole called while I was standing in front of the fridge, zoning out. I’d spent my wedding night alone — Marcus never came home. “Sloane, Mrs. Cross just called. The Cross family is having a dinner tonight, and she wants you there.” “Why would I go? I divorced Damon.” “Yeah, but — she also said to bring your new husband.” I closed the fridge door. Three seconds of silence. “How does she know?” “I have no idea!” Nicole sounded like she was about to cry. “But your ex-mother-in-law specifically said she wants to see Marcus. She said the whole Cross family is waiting…” My stomach dropped. The Cross family. Marcus. Uncle. Those three things clicked together, and something cold exploded at the back of my skull. I didn’t dare tell Nicole what that name really meant. I just said “Got it” and hung up. There was a black dress hanging in my closet. I put it on, stood in front of the mirror, and painted my lips red. Like walking to my own execution — at least I’d go out looking good. Marcus came to pick me up that evening. He’d changed into a dark charcoal suit, silver cufflinks catching the light as we passed under a streetlamp. The moment he saw me, his eyes moved over me — face to ankles — slow and deliberate. He didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth shifted. “Get in.” The ride was deadly quiet. I stared out the window at the streetlights blurring past, my palms slick with sweat. He broke the silence. “Nervous?” “No.” “Then why are you shaking?” I looked down at my hands. They were. I curled them into fists and said nothing. The car stopped in front of the Cross family estate. I knew those large red front doors too well. Two years of marriage to Damon, and every visit here was its own kind of torment. Mrs. Cross’s sharp, dissecting gaze. Damon’s barely-concealed impatience. The relatives with their passive-aggressive digs. I thought the divorce meant I’d never have to come back. And yet here I was — in a new dress, on a new husband’s arm. The whole thing was so fucking absurd. Marcus held out his arm for me to take. “Once we’re inside, don’t say a word. Stay close.” I was just reaching for his arm when the doors swung open. Damon stood in the doorway. Black shirt, collar unbuttoned, a glass of red wine in hand. His expression said he’d just found an uninvited guest in his own living room. But the moment his eyes landed on Marcus, his pupils shrank. “Uncle.” He said it through clenched teeth. Marcus didn’t even glance at him. He walked straight past, taking me with him. The entire Cross family was there. A dozen people filled the living room. Cross Sr. sat at the head of the room, turning a pocket watch over in his hands. He narrowed his eyes the moment he saw me. Mrs. Cross sat beside him, her smile so stiff it looked painted on. “Sloane, you made it. Come sit down.” I had barely taken my seat when someone laughed. “Never thought our Sloane would get divorced and end up marrying Marcus.” “Hey, don’t — she’s his wife now. That makes her our aunt.” The whole room laughed. Knives behind every smile. I was about to say something when Marcus spoke first. “I don’t need anyone’s approval for who I choose to marry.”

His voice was calm, but every word landed clean. The room went quiet. Cross Sr.’s hand stilled on the pocket watch. “Marcus, when did the two of you meet?” “What does this have to do with you?” “I’m your cousin.” “So?” Marcus picked up his tea and took a sip. “I brought her here. Whether you want to accept her is up to you.” Mrs. Cross looked like she was about to be sick. But I noticed Damon. He was sitting in the corner, drinking glass after glass, his eyes locked on the barely eight-inch gap between me and Marcus. “Lucky you,” he suddenly said, his voice rough. “Still happy scraping up someone else’s leftovers.” Dead silence fell over the room. Cross Sr. slammed his hand on the table. “Damon!” Marcus wasn’t angry. He actually smiled. He glanced at me — something amused flickering in his eyes — then looked back at Damon. “You call her leftovers. But let me ask you something — were you even worthy of her in the first place?” The glass in Damon’s hand shattered. Red wine dripped down his fingers. He shot to his feet and glared at me. “Sloane, you ruthless bitch.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Marcus pressed his hand over mine. “Call her Aunt.” Damon’s jaw went tight. Marcus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and calmly wiped his fingers, like he had all the time in the world — like he was simply waiting for an impatient child to mind their manners. Every pair of eyes in the room was on me. Envy. Amusement. Fury. I stood there in front of the whole room, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst from my chest — but I kept my back straight. Marcus turned his head, his voice low, just for me. “Don’t be scared. I’m right here.” Damon finally spoke. “Fine.” He pointed his bleeding finger at my face. “Aunt.” Then he smashed a priceless vase and stormed out the door. Mrs. Cross stood up to go after him, but Cross Sr. called her back. “Marcus,” the old man sighed. “Take your wife and eat.” I caught the corner of Marcus’s mouth curve into an almost imperceptible smile. He stood up and took my wrist with the hand he hadn’t used the handkerchief on. His fingers were burning hot. “Let’s eat.” At the dinner table, everyone was whispering. I kept my head down and ate, my mind spinning. My phone lit up. Nicole: How did it go?! Me: He smashed a vase. And called me Aunt. Nicole: … Nicole: I’ve officially seen everything now. I was about to reply when a hand found mine under the table. Marcus’s fingers were long and strong. One by one, he pried open my clenched fist and pressed his warm palm flat against mine. I looked up at him. He was calmly sipping his soup, expression completely unbothered, like nothing had happened at all. But under the table, his thumb was slowly brushing back and forth across the back of my hand. My stomach was in knots the entire meal. By the time it finally ended, Marcus pulled me into his car — not toward home. He drove straight to an office building I’d never been to before. “Why are we here?” He didn’t answer. He swiped his card and stepped into the elevator. It went all the way to the top floor, and when the doors opened, the letters on the wall in front of us stopped me cold. Thorne Group. I froze. He walked me into the CEO’s office, pulled a document from the drawer, and dropped it on the desk. “You didn’t read what you signed.” I picked up the prenuptial agreement and flipped through a few pages. My eyes went wide. The last page — the additional terms — read: Party A, Sloane, formerly held the position of Vice President at Thorne Group, tenure of two years and three months, resigned due to personal marriage-related reasons. “You…” “Three years ago, I was the one who recruited you.” Marcus leaned back against the desk, arms folded, his gaze steady. “From the headhunter search to the project launch — I was involved in every step personally. Your first acquisition proposal? I was the one who approved it.”

It felt like a bomb went off inside my head. Three years ago. Before I quit my job and married into the Cross family, I had been working as a VP at a corporation — but I never once met the owner. Every part of my onboarding had been handled through the HR director. “You didn’t know your boss’s last name was Thorne?” “I signed an NDA when I joined. The company used a code name.” “Mm.” He let out a soft, indifferent sound. “That was my requirement.” My fingers gripped the agreement. My knuckles went white. “So from the very beginning, you knew I was Damon’s ex-wife.” “More than that.” He walked around the desk and came to stand right in front of me, looking down at me from above. “I know he cheated on you for two years. I know his mother looked down on you for coming from an ordinary family. I know that at the Cross family, even the servants felt entitled to treat you like dirt.” “You—” “I also know that on the day of your divorce, you stood outside your ex-husband’s office building for three hours — and then left alone in a cab.” My eyes stung instantly. That was the most humiliating day of my life. After Damon signed the divorce papers, he didn’t even bother to see me out. I stood in front of his building for almost an hour waiting for a cab. The wind was brutal. I was wearing heels, and they’d rubbed my feet raw until they bled. “How did you know that?” “I happened to be in a meeting in the building across the street that day.” His voice dropped. “I saw you crouch down by the curb and take your heels off. You stood there barefoot on the pavement.” “…” “From that moment on, I knew — I was going to make you my wife.” He said it the way you’d state a fact. Calm. Certain. Like it had already been decided. “Marcus, are you out of your mind?” “Not even a little.” He pulled another photo from the drawer and slid it across to me. It was the two of us at a contract signing event three years ago. I was in my work suit, head down, reading through documents. He was standing slightly behind me and to the side, his gaze resting on me. That look in his eyes — soft in a way that didn’t seem like him at all. “I noticed you at that signing.” He tapped the photo with his knuckles. “But you were married then, so I didn’t do anything.” “So now you’re—” “Now you’re divorced, and I’m single.” He cut me off. “I waited three years for this chance, Sloane. Do you really think I’m going to let it go?” I stepped back. My back hit the edge of the desk. “This isn’t love. This is obsession.” “Call it whatever you want.” He picked up the prenuptial agreement and held it out to me. “But it’s all right here in black and white — pre-marital assets stay separate, and everything you own after marriage is fully protected by law. I’m not Damon. I won’t let you get burned.” “But this whole marriage is a setup!” “A setup?” He laughed — cool, humorless. “You showed up to a speed dating event and tossed out your ex-husband’s name as your secret passcode. Who were you looking for, Sloane? Were you waiting for him to come back?” That stopped me cold. “You don’t even love him. You just can’t accept how it ended.” He cut right to the heart of it. “What you need is a marriage that lets you stand back up. And I can give you that.” “What exactly can you give me?” “Respect. Equality. And—” He paused. “A place that’s actually worthy of you.” My heart skipped a beat. The office lights were bright, throwing his features into sharp relief. It hit me all at once — this man had woven himself into the edges of my life three years ago, and I had never even noticed. “I’ll give you three days to think it over.” He slipped the agreement back into the drawer. “If you still want out after three days, I’ll sign.” I stood there and watched him turn and walk toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city glittered outside. He stood with his back to me, his voice drifting over his shoulder: “Sloane, you need to ask yourself — are you running away from a person, or are you running toward a life?” I had nothing to say.

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My mother-in-law, Helen, dragged a four-year-old boy in front of me and claimed he was my husband’s love child. She sobbed hysterically: “My son made a mistake, but the child is innocent. Just accept him, Chloe.” The mistress stood beside her, cradling her pregnant belly, wiping away tears. “Chloe, I don’t want to steal your husband. But a child needs a father…” I remained silent, looking at my husband. Ethan’s face was pale with anger. “No way! I don’t even know her!” The mistress sobbed and threw a paternity test on the table. It showed a 99.99% match. Overnight, the internet branded me as the “evil, barren wife holding onto a marriage that isn’t hers.” In court, the judge asked me if I had anything to say. I smiled, pulled out a medical file, and tossed it on the table. “Your Honor, take a look at this, and then tell me if this child could possibly belong to my husband.” The entire courtroom gasped. “That’s impossible!” …… “Chloe, look who’s here.” I turned around. My mother-in-law, Helen, stood there with a young woman holding a little boy. Helen’s eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “This is Ethan’s child.” The kitchen knife slipped from my hand, clattering loudly against the floor tiles. “Helen, what did you just say?” I stared at the boy, my mind going completely blank. Helen gently pushed the boy forward. “His name is Leo.” Leo. He shared my husband’s family name, Carter. My heart sank. I stood up. “You can’t just claim things like this. Ethan has been home every single day. How could he have a secret child?” “Why not?” Helen’s voice rose. “Five years ago, right after you two got married, Ethan had a business dinner and drank too much. He ended up with Vanessa… just that one time.” Tears began to stream down her face. “I didn’t know either. I only found out two days ago. Vanessa raised this boy all by herself. Do you have any idea how hard it has been for her?” The woman she called “Vanessa” stepped out from behind her. She looked to be about twenty-five, with swollen, teary eyes. She spoke in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “Mrs. Carter, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. But my boy… he needs a father.” I stared at her for a few seconds. “You claim he’s my husband’s. Do you have proof?” Helen immediately pulled a sheet of paper from her purse and slapped it onto the coffee table. “This is a DNA paternity test! Black and white!” I picked it up and scanned it. It was issued by the state general hospital. The “alleged father” was listed as Ethan Carter, and the child was Leo Carter. The conclusion: Paternity probability 99.99%. My hands shook slightly. This was absurd. “Does Ethan know?” I asked. Helen’s expression flickered. “Not yet. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle it…” “So you came to me first?” Helen wiped her tears. “You’re his wife. Of course I had to talk to you first.” “Chloe, I know this is hard for you. But what’s done is done. The child is already here. You have to take a stand.” I looked at the little boy. He hadn’t cried once. He just stared at the adults with big, confused eyes. He didn’t even realize he was being used as a weapon. Vanessa spoke up again, her voice soft as cotton. “Mrs. Carter, I’m not here to take anything from you. I just want Leo to have a father. He gets bullied at preschool. The other kids laugh at him because he doesn’t have a dad…” She wiped her nose, sniffing miserably. “I don’t want your family’s money, I swear. I’m just an ordinary girl with no college degree and no skills. Raising a child alone is just too hard…” Hearing this, Helen cried even harder. “Look at how hard she has it! Chloe, do you have a heart? Where is your sympathy?”

I took a deep breath. “Helen, let’s wait until Ethan gets home.” “Wait for what?” Helen snapped. “The proof is right here! Are you still doubting it? Are you just afraid this boy will take a cut of your inheritance?” “I never said anything about money.” “Then you just refuse to accept him!” Helen pointed a finger at my face. “Let me tell you, Chloe. I am accepting this boy as my grandson, no matter what! If you try to stop me, you’ll have to go through me!” Vanessa gently tugged at Helen’s sleeve. “Please don’t fight… She has her own worries. I can wait…” She said she could “wait,” but her tears fell even faster. Watching this little show, I let out a cold laugh inside. Not in a hurry? Then why did you bring the child right to my doorstep? I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my husband on Snapchat: “Your mom brought a kid to our house. She says he’s your love child. She even has a paternity test. Get home now.” Ethan arrived in twenty minutes. He looked incredibly pale, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Mom, what is going on?” Helen grabbed his hand, her voice cracking. “Ethan, I know this is a shock, but this boy is really yours. Look at his face. He looks exactly like you did when you were little…” Ethan yanked his hand away and glared at Vanessa. “Who are you? I don’t even know you.” Vanessa’s eyes welled with tears again. “Ethan, you don’t remember me? Five years ago, at your company’s annual gala…” “What gala? I never went to any annual gala!” Ethan’s voice cracked with rage. “Since we got married, I’ve come straight home every single day. When did I ever go out drinking?” “Ethan!” Helen chided. “How can you say that? She’s a young woman who raised your child alone! Even if you don’t want to accept the boy, how can you pretend you don’t know her?” “Mom, I don’t know her! What do you want me to admit?” Vanessa covered her face and sobbed. She cried quietly, shoulders shaking, tears slipping through her fingers. The little boy hugged her, starting to cry too, whimpering, “Mommy.” Anyone watching this would feel their heart break. But my heart was as cold as stone. Because I knew my husband. He couldn’t have cheated on me. Because… After a moment, Vanessa looked up, her face streaked with tears. “Ethan, I know you don’t want to admit it, and that’s fine. I didn’t come here to force you. I just wanted Leo to see you, to know he has a dad…” She pulled an envelope from her bag and handed it over with both hands. “These are Leo’s photos, from when he was a baby until now. Keep them. If you don’t want them, you can just throw them away.” Ethan didn’t reach for them. Helen snatched them, tearing open the envelope to reveal a stack of photos. The first was a newborn photo, the second at three months, the third from his first birthday… On the back of each photo, there were handwritten notes: “Leo is one month old, he smiled today,” “Leo called me Mommy today, I’m so happy.” Helen flipped through them, her body trembling with tears. “Ethan, look at him. He’s so sweet. He’s your flesh and blood…” Ethan’s expression was dark as thunder. “Mom, I told you. This is not my child!” “How can you say he isn’t?” Helen suddenly turned on me, her eyes vicious. “Chloe, did you say something to him? Are you forbidding him from accepting his own son?”

“Helen, I didn’t say anything.” “It must be you!” Helen pointed her finger at my nose. “You’re just terrified of this boy taking your inheritance! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You’ve been married to my son for six years, and you haven’t even given him a single child. Now you won’t even let him have his own?” Those words were like a dagger thrust straight into my chest. Barren. I had heard that whispered behind my back for six years. Every Thanksgiving dinner, every family reunion, when relatives asked, “When are you starting a family?” Helen would always be the first to chime in: “Oh, who knows? Maybe her body just isn’t up to it.” Later, she didn’t even bother to hide her disdain. She would say right at the dinner table: “I don’t know what cursed fate brought us a woman who can’t even get pregnant.” Ethan always defended me. But he couldn’t shield me forever. And today, she threw that insult right in my face in front of an outsider. “Mom,” Ethan’s voice was ice-cold. “If you want to blame someone, blame me. Do not talk to Chloe like that. I am the one who decided not to have kids. It has nothing to do with her.” Vanessa spoke up again, her voice trembling and weak. “Mrs. Carter, please don’t fight… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have come…” “No, you were right to come!” Helen held her hand tightly. “In this house, the innocent shouldn’t be the ones bowing down!” The days that followed were a living nightmare. A post went viral on a local Facebook group with a sensational headline: [Barren High-Society Wife Denies Husband’s Secret Son His Birthright]. The post was written with agonizing detail. “My name is Vanessa. I’m a single mother. Four years ago, I gave birth to a boy. His father is a prominent business owner in this city.” “He was already married, and because I didn’t want to ruin his family, I raised our boy alone.” “But now, my son is sick and needs his father’s medical history. I had no choice but to find him.” Below the post was a photo of the little boy crying outside our front door—obviously taken in secret. The comments section exploded. “Is this wife insane? Keeping a sick kid away from his dad?” “The poor boy is sick! He just wants to see his father. How cold-hearted can you be?” “The husband is trash too. Sleeping around and refusing to take responsibility!” “Single moms unite! Expose this toxic couple!” Soon, someone doxxed me. My phone blew up. Hundreds of threatening text messages from unknown numbers poured in. “Are you the monster keeping a sick child from his dad? Have some shame!” “Can’t get pregnant yourself, so you won’t let anyone else have a baby? What a psycho!” “I hope you stay barren forever!” Every single text sliced into me. Even Ethan’s company was targeted. Protesters showed up outside his office building holding signs: “Ethan Carter, Face Your Son,” and “Deadbeat Dad, Give Your Child a Father.” His business partners called him. “Ethan, what is going on with this internet scandal?” Ethan spent hours explaining, but even though they sounded understanding, their tones had shifted. That’s how these things go. Once you’re accused, the truth doesn’t seem to matter. You will always be “the guy with the secret kid.” One evening, Ethan came home from work looking completely drained. “What happened?” I asked. “A major client just backed out of our contract,” he said, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. “They said they can’t do business with someone of ‘questionable moral character’.” I sat beside him and took his hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I dragged you into this.” “You didn’t drag me into anything,” I replied. “Someone is targeting us.” A week later, we received a court summons. Vanessa was suing us. She was demanding legal recognition of paternity, retroactive child support, medical expenses, and emotional distress damages—totaling three million dollars. Her lawyer told the local news: “Three million is a perfectly reasonable cost to raise a child. If the other party is willing to cooperate, we can settle out of court.” Three million. She knew exactly how much our family was worth. She chose a number that would hurt, but not enough to make us fight to the death. This woman was incredibly calculating. On the day of the hearing, it was raining. I wore a simple black coat and light makeup. Ethan held my hand, his palm soaked in sweat. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. He let out a dry laugh. “I’m not worried. I just find this whole thing incredibly absurd.” Absurd. That was an understatement for the circus our lives had become. A crowd had gathered outside the courthouse—reporters, onlookers, and internet trolls. Someone spotted me and yelled, “That’s her! The cold-hearted woman keeping a father from his sick son!”

I ignored them and walked straight into the courtroom. Vanessa was already seated at the plaintiff’s table. She wore plain, worn-out clothes, no makeup, and clutched an old cardigan. She looked exactly like a victim of a harsh world. Beside her sat a man in his late write-forties, sharply dressed in a suit—her attorney. Helen sat in the very front row of the gallery. She was dressed elegantly, her makeup done perfectly. She looked radiant, as if she were here to take her grandson home rather than attend a lawsuit. When she saw me, a flicker of guilt crossed her face, but she quickly looked away. The judge banged the gavel, and court was in session. The plaintiff’s lawyer stood up first. “Your Honor, my client, Vanessa, met the defendant, Ethan Carter, five years ago. The defendant hid his marital status and engaged in an intimate relationship with my client, resulting in pregnancy. After the child was born, the defendant refused to acknowledge him, leaving my client to raise him alone.” “The child has recently been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and urgently requires the genetic history of both parents. My client requests this court to establish Ethan Carter’s legal paternity and order the defendant to pay three million dollars in child support, medical expenses, and damages.” As soon as he finished, Vanessa began to weep silently. Her shoulders trembled. It was a heartbreaking sight. Whispers erupted from the gallery. “Poor girl, raising a child alone for four years…” “The husband is absolute trash!” Helen sighed loudly right on cue, making sure everyone around her could hear: “Oh, what a tragedy…” The judge banged the gavel to restore order, then turned to us. “Does the defense have a response?” Ethan stood up, his voice steady but cold. “I do not know the plaintiff. Five years ago, I did not have an affair with anyone. This child is not mine.” Vanessa’s lawyer sneered. “Mr. Carter, we have a certified DNA paternity test right here showing a 99.99% match. Do you really think a simple denial is going to work?” The gallery gasped. “The proof is right there!” “He still denies it? How shameless!” “And his wife is just as bad, helping him cover it up!” Vanessa cried harder, burying her face in her arms on the table. Her lawyer spoke up. “Your Honor, my client is highly distressed. We request a five-minute recess.” Before the judge could rule, Helen stood up from the gallery. “Your Honor, please let me speak!” She wiped her eyes, her voice shaking. “I am the defendant’s mother, Helen Carter. I am here to tell the truth.” “This child is indeed my son’s. I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing the DNA test, I had to accept the truth.” She turned toward the spectators, tears streaming down her face. “As his mother, I am deeply sorry to Vanessa and the boy. For four years, this child had no father, and Vanessa suffered alone…” “I stand here today because I want justice for this mother and child!” A few people in the gallery actually clapped. Someone shouted, “Now that is a righteous mother-in-law!” Another yelled, “Unlike that cold-blooded daughter-in-law!” Every eye in the room turned to glare at me. Those looks were filled with disgust, contempt, and hatred. I slowly stood up. “Your Honor,” my voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly across the quiet room. “I have evidence to submit.” I pulled a manila folder from my bag. Every eye locked onto the envelope. The judge opened it, his brow furrowing instantly. “This is…” The judge paused. I cleared my throat and spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word: “This is an official surgical record from five years ago, dated November. The procedure was a vasectomy.” “The patient’s name is Ethan Carter.” The entire courtroom fell dead silent.

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To prepare for our Valentine’s Day date, I loaded ten thousand dollars onto my VIP house account at a three-star Michelin restaurant. But my boyfriend stood me up at the last minute, claiming he had to work overtime. So, I took my best friend instead. Only to see my “hardworking” boyfriend down on one knee, offering a diamond ring to another girl. He didn’t just bring his new side-chick; he also brought a whole crowd of his parasitic friends. “I’m proposing today! Eat and drink whatever you want, guys—it’s all on me!” He held the mic, looking like the king of the world. That was when I realized the black VIP card in my purse was missing. Stealing my prepaid card to fund a grand proposal for his mistress? Did he really think I was that big of a fool? When it was time for the bill, he slapped the card on the table to show off. But the manager smiled politely and handed it back: “Sir, the cardholder just reported this card lost. It has been deactivated. How would you like to pay this hundred and thirty thousand dollar bill?”

For tonight’s date, I cancelled all my important meetings at the company and left early. I spent three hours getting ready. This was supposed to be our fourth Valentine’s Day together—mine and Tyler’s. I was full of anticipation, waiting for him to come home. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Tyler. “Stella, something urgent came up at the office. I have to work overtime. I won’t make it tonight.” Looking at the screen, all my excitement evaporated into cold disappointment. My best friend, Chloe Bennett, called me. Hearing the sadness in my voice, she drove over immediately. “Stella Vance, get a grip! You are not going to cry over some guy!” Seeing me looking so miserable, she scolded me but dragged me off the couch anyway. “Let’s go! If he won’t take you out, I will! You look too gorgeous to waste this outfit!” Our destination was the three-star Michelin restaurant where I had just loaded ten thousand dollars onto my VIP account last week. I had thought it would be our special romantic spot. But as soon as our car pulled up, I froze. In the main lobby, there was a massive rose arch. It was tacky and loud. And standing right beneath it was none other than Tyler Sterling. He was wearing the custom $15,000 bespoke suit I bought for him. I had imagined him wearing it to propose to me a thousand times. But now, he was down on one knee, holding a massive diamond ring, looking up adoringly at another girl. I recognized her. Bambi Miller, the new intern at Tyler’s company. Just two days ago, Tyler was complaining to me. “These Gen Z interns don’t know how to do anything. I have to hold her hand through every single task. It’s exhausting.” Yet here he was, looking at Bambi with eyes so tender they could melt. “Bambi, before I met you, I never believed in marriage.” “But now, I can’t picture my life with anyone else.” That cheesy line. He had used the exact same words on me three years ago. Bambi blushed, holding out her hand to let him slide the ring on. His group of freeloading friends cheered wildly around them. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” “She’s beautiful, Tyler! You’re a lucky man!” My blood ran cold. Anger and betrayal choked me. Three years ago, when he started his company, he couldn’t even afford a tiny office space. I was the one who gave him $150,000 as seed money. When his cash flow dried up and he was evicted for not paying rent, I took him in. I let him live in my downtown luxury penthouse. I did everything to pave the way for his success.

And yet, he was using my money to throw a party for his friends and promise his life to another woman. Chloe was so furious she rolled up her sleeves, ready to storm in. “I am going to rip that bastard and his side-piece apart!” I grabbed her arm. Tyler’s personal credit cards were completely maxed out. Where did he get the confidence to throw such a lavish party? I looked down and opened my designer handbag. Sure enough, the black VIP card for this restaurant was gone. I looked back up, narrowing my eyes at Tyler under the flower arch. Ha. Tucked into the left pocket of his custom suit jacket was a familiar sliver of black and gold. The host led Chloe and me upstairs to a private booth with a perfect, hidden view of the lobby. Just as I sat down, a Snapchat notification popped up. “Stella, this client is being super difficult. I don’t think I’ll make it back tonight. Go to sleep, don’t wait up.” And then, another one. “I ordered your favorite takeout to the penthouse. Eat it while it’s hot. Love you!” Through the one-way glass of the booth, I watched him. One hand was typing the message on his phone, while the other was wrapped around Bambi’s waist, his fingers tracing her skin. My stomach churned. I felt like throwing up. Chloe shoved her phone in front of my face, her eyes burning with rage. Bambi had just posted on Instagram. It was a photo of her hand with the diamond ring resting against Tyler’s cheek. The caption was incredibly bold: “An old woman’s money is so easy to spend. But he still loves me the most ~” “Old woman?” He was using my money to play the rich gentleman, while his little mistress insulted me. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I pressed the button to page the restaurant manager. In less than two minutes, a well-dressed, middle-aged man walked in. “Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you tonight?” I pulled up my ID and the electronic receipt of my VIP account registration on my phone. “My name is Stella Vance. I am a Black Card member here. I’ve lost my physical card, and I need to report it stolen and lock the account immediately. Please issue me a new one.” The manager quickly verified my identity on his tablet. “Of course, Ms. Vance. I will process that right away.” Five minutes later, a brand-new black VIP card was placed in my hand. Out of professional courtesy, the manager leaned in before leaving. “Ms. Vance, I should inform you. Our system shows that your old card is currently being used downstairs.” “As of right now, the pending charge is thirty-eight thousand dollars.” He paused, checking my expression. “Would you like us to call the police, or have security escort them out?” I picked up my glass of 1982 Château Lafite and swirled the dark red liquid. “No need for the police.” “From now on, my account only authorizes my signature and this new card.” The manager was a smart man. He understood instantly, bowed politely, and left. Downstairs, the cheering grew louder. “Tyler! I heard Vanguard Capital is officially signing the contract with you tomorrow? That’s a multi-million dollar investment! You’re going to be filthy rich!” “Yeah! Don’t forget about your day-ones when you make it big, Boss!” Tyler was drunk on the flattery. He stepped onto a chair, raising his voice so the whole restaurant could hear him.

“Of course! Tonight, order whatever you want. Get the most expensive things on the menu—it’s all on me!” He looked down at Bambi’s adoring eyes and playfully pinched her nose. “Babe, next month, we’re flying to Paris to pick out your haute couture wedding dress. My woman deserves nothing but the absolute best!” Hearing this, his leech-like friends exchanged looks. Eager to take advantage of his “generosity,” they snatched the menus and started ordering frantically. They didn’t spare anything with gold leaf or extra zeros on the price tag. Chloe watched with pure amusement. She pulled out her phone, logged into a burner Snapchat account, and easily slipped into their group chat. She pretended to be a wealthy heir who knew his luxury wines. She started sending photos of high-end bottles into the chat, adding fuel to the fire. “Today is Tyler’s big day!” “How can you celebrate without Romanée-Conti? Anything less is an insult to the bride!” The freeloaders downstairs saw the message and immediately chimed in. “Holy crap! The king of wines!” “Tyler! We need this! Pop a bottle of Romanée-Conti!” Tyler’s face froze for a second. But he tapped the black card in his pocket. He figured the VIP card had unlimited credit anyway, and the bill would go straight to Stella Vance. With that safety net, he stood tall again. “Open it! We’re celebrating tonight. Let’s drink!” The server soon brought out two vintage bottles of Romanée-Conti. With a loud pop, the expensive wine was poured, pushing the party to a whole new level of hysteria. Bambi clung to Tyler like a koala, whispering sweet nothings. “Tyler, you’re so good to me.” Tyler was practically floating. He pulled a blue velvet box from his pocket. “Do you like it? It’s yours.” Inside was a Cartier diamond necklace, sparkling under the chandeliers. My eyes narrowed. That necklace was from my private collection. I hadn’t even worn it yet! Then, my gaze drifted to the limited-edition Hermès Birkin bag sitting next to Bambi’s chair. On the handle, there was a custom-tied Alice in Wonderland silk scarf. I had tied that knot myself! No wonder I felt like things had been going missing from my closet lately—bags I rarely used, jewelry I only wore once or twice, expensive perfumes. Whenever I asked, Tyler would lie right to my face. “Babe, you’re just working too hard and forgetting where you put things. Check the drawers again.” It turned out this leech had been treating my closet as his personal free-gift shop! Unbelievable. Stealing from me to impress his mistress. Bambi squealed in delight, letting Tyler fasten the necklace around her neck before taking dozens of selfies. At that moment, Tyler excused himself to go to the restroom, walking toward the stairs. A second later, my phone rang. “Stella, are you asleep?” Tyler’s voice came through, thick with fake exhaustion. “I’m still out drinking with the client. My head is spinning. But hey, I have to grind for our future.” I forced down my disgust and replied quietly. “Sounds tough.” Tyler didn’t notice the coldness in my voice. He kept making promises.

“Just wait for me, Stella. Once we close the deal with Vanguard Capital tomorrow, we’ll get our marriage license.” He hung up, put on his smug smile, and walked back to the party. The server handed him the updated bill. The pending charge had climbed to ninety-four thousand dollars. Downstairs, the proposal had devolved into absolute chaos. A tipsy Bambi kicked off her heels and stood right on the expensive dining chair. She raised her champagne glass high. “Thank you everyone for witnessing our love!” The freeloaders lined up to toast them, spewing shameless flattery. “Congrats, Boss! You got the beauty and the money!” “You’re a genius, Tyler! Success in career and love!” “Exactly! Tyler’s new girl is so young and hot. Way better than that stiff, boring ex-girlfriend of yours!” When someone brought me up, Tyler didn’t stop them. He laughed even harder. His face was red with alcohol as he waved a dismissive hand. “Stella Vance? Please.” “She’s an old woman pushing thirty. How can she compare to my Bambi? Bambi is young, fresh, and actually knows how to treat a man.” Tyler hiccuped, continuing his drunken rant. “If she didn’t have those industry connections, I would’ve dumped her long ago.” “Once I sign the deal tomorrow, I’ll take over all her clients.” “Then I’ll kick her to the curb and tell her to get lost!” Bambi giggled, leaning in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “You’re amazing, babe. I knew I was the only one in your heart.” She looked around the room, pointing at a few tables of random diners in the corner. “Babe, I’m just so happy today!” “Why don’t we buy a round for everyone in the restaurant? Let them celebrate with us!” Drunk on ego, Tyler didn’t even look at the menu prices. He waved his hand and roared to the room. “No problem!” “Tonight, everything is on Tyler Sterling!” His friends cheered, raising their glasses. “Now that’s a real boss!” Applause broke out across the restaurant. I glanced at my Patek Philippe watch. 9:30 PM. Perfect timing. I leaned back against my chair, waiting for the show to start. Downstairs, the noise began to die down. A tipsy Tyler, surrounded by his entourage, walked over to the hostess stand. He pulled out my black VIP card, pinching it between two fingers, and slammed it onto the counter. “Charge it.” The manager looked at the card. Then, he smiled politely and pushed it back. “Sir, the cardholder reported this card lost an hour ago. It is deactivated. How would you like to pay this hundred and thirty thousand dollar bill?” Tyler’s smug smile cracked, piece by piece. He grabbed the card, stared at it, and slammed it down again. “Stolen? This is my card!” “Is your machine broken? Run it again!” The manager remained calm and professional. He turned the screen toward Tyler. “Sir, our system shows that the owner, Ms. Stella Vance, verified her identity and reported the card lost in person one hour ago.”

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