Category: English

When I stepped through the grand double doors of the Kensington estate, I had just watched the judge deny bail to the monsters who raised me. My biological parents paid zero attention to the blood daughter who had been switched at birth. All their energy was laser focused on the fragile, weeping impostor sitting on the velvet sofa. Officer Riley, the cop who drove me to the estate, had noticed my silence in the cruiser. She had patted my shoulder gently. “Don’t worry, Ivy. Blood is thicker than water. Give it time, and your parents will definitely see how wonderful you are.” I just nodded and gave her a perfectly innocent smile. The truth was, I didn’t care if they treated me well or not. I only had one bottom line. Do not mess with me. 1 Matt and Amy Kensington only realized their child had been swapped after seeing my face. I looked exactly like Amy did in her youth. They ordered a DNA test with extreme reluctance. Even with the undeniable proof in their hands, they seemed incapable of accepting that I was their real daughter. The whole family stared at the medical report with heavy expressions. There was no joy. There were no tears of reunion. They were too busy comforting Bella. She buried her face in Amy’s chest, sobbing like her world had ended. “Mom, Dad, I’m not yours. I belong to someone else.” “Are you going to send me away? Are you going to throw me out?” Amy immediately wrapped her arms around the crying girl. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. You will always be my precious baby. How could we ever throw you away?” Matt was quick to back his wife up. “Bella, we raised you for fifteen years. No one can ever replace that bond.” Even Jim, my biological older brother, leaned in to wipe away her tears. “Stop crying, Bells. I only acknowledge you as my sister. Some stranger popping up out of nowhere can never compare to you.” I stood by the doorway, watching the touching family drama unfold. Whatever tiny, pathetic spark of hope I had harbored on the car ride over completely fizzled out. But I wasn’t sad. For someone who spent her entire life just trying to figure out how to survive the next beating, being ignored was a luxury. The Kensington family was filthy rich. They could definitely afford an extra mouth to feed. As long as I had a warm bed and a full stomach, I was completely satisfied. After the family showered her with a dozen different promises, Bella finally cracked a tearful smile. The suffocating tension in the living room vanished instantly. Jim turned his head and shot me a nasty glare. “Even though we share blood, Bella has been here for fifteen years. You better learn to get along with her. She’s sensitive, so don’t do anything to upset her.” Matt finally shifted his gaze to me. “You’re the older sister now. You need to take good care of her.” Amy kept her arm tight around Bella, offering me a tight, practiced smile. “In my heart, you and Bella are exactly the same.” I didn’t say a word. I just nodded. This arrangement worked perfectly for me. A housekeeper led me upstairs to a guest room. She sneered at me before opening the door. “Miss Bella doesn’t like strangers wandering around the house. If you don’t have business downstairs, stay out of sight.” She rolled her eyes and walked away. I ignored her attitude, stepped inside, and threw myself onto the massive, cloud like mattress. This place was absolute heaven. I woke up a few hours later, lured out of sleep by the smell of roasting meat. The second I opened my bedroom door, Bella’s voice drifted up the sweeping staircase. “My real parents… where are they now?” Officer Riley had made it perfectly clear to them. The abusers who tortured me were currently rotting in a holding cell. Why was she even asking? A heavy silence fell over the living room. After a long pause, Matt’s grim voice echoed upward. “Bella, we didn’t want to burden you with this. Your biological parents… they were involved in some highly illegal activities. They are currently incarcerated.” “Criminals?” Bella’s voice pitched up, trembling with horror. “No… how is that possible? Everyone is going to know I’m the daughter of convicts! What am I going to do?” “Don’t be scared, baby, don’t be scared,” Amy cooed, her voice dripping with heartache. “We are here. We will never let this ruin your reputation.” “But…” Bella hiccuped. “What if she goes outside and tells people? What if she tells everyone she had a hard life? People will connect the dots to my background. Mom, Dad, I’m so scared.” Jim’s voice cut in, laced with impatience. “Then we make Ivy fix it. We make her put out a statement saying her adoptive parents were just strict disciplinarians, and she was just a rebellious kid who misunderstood them. As long as she changes her story and proves it was just normal parenting instead of abuse, you won’t be tied to any criminals.” “That…” Amy hesitated. “Making Ivy deny everything… isn’t that a bit cruel? The poor girl really did suffer a lot.” “Cruel? What’s cruel about it?” Jim snapped. “She gets to live in this mansion and steal your title as the eldest daughter. Isn’t making a tiny sacrifice the least she could do? Are we really going to let Bella carry the stigma of being a criminal’s daughter just to spare Ivy’s feelings?” “But…” Amy still sounded unsure. “We do exactly what Jim suggested,” Matt finalized, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We can just compensate Ivy with money later.” I didn’t expect anything from these people. But hearing those words still ignited a vicious, burning rage in my chest. If they really believed it wasn’t abuse… Then they needed to experience it firsthand. 2 I practically skipped down the stairs, a bright smile plastered on my face. Under their shocked stares, I walked straight up to the dining table, grabbed the porcelain plate of steak in front of Bella, and smashed it onto the hardwood floor. Before anyone could blink, I grabbed a fistful of Bella’s perfectly styled hair and slammed her face down toward the splattered food. “Ivy, are you insane!” Jim was the first to react. He shoved me hard, sending me stumbling backward. Bella let out a bloodcurdling shriek. Covered in gravy and mashed potatoes, she scrambled into Amy’s arms, sobbing hysterically. “This is unacceptable! Absolute madness!” Matt slammed his hand on the table, his face purple with rage. Amy clutched Bella tightly, glaring at me like I was a monster. “Ivy, how could you… how could you do something so barbaric to your sister?” I steadied myself against a chair. I looked at them with wide, terrified eyes, letting my lip tremble with perfect, manufactured grievance. “I… I just wanted to make sure she ate well. Bella’s mom and dad always taught me to eat like this. They said food tastes better off the floor, that it builds character. I was just worried my sister wouldn’t finish her dinner.” “Did I do something wrong?” I let my eyes wander over the ruined floor and the hysterical girl, my face the picture of genuine confusion. “Bella’s parents raised me exactly like this. They used to dump my food on the dirt and watch me eat it like a dog. They told me it was because they loved me. I just wanted to love my sister the exact same way they loved me. After all, if she hadn’t been swapped, she would be receiving all this wonderful love from her real parents right now.” A dead, suffocating silence choked the dining room. Every single one of them knew the truth. That wasn’t love. It was torture. The tight grip Amy had on Bella subconsciously loosened. All the color drained from her face. Jim opened his mouth, but the curses died in his throat. Matt’s facial muscles twitched violently. The inferno of rage in his eyes was instantly extinguished by a bucket of ice water, leaving behind nothing but raw shock. I calmly walked over to Bella. While she stared at me in horror, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the cheek. “I really love my sister so much.” 3 The slap left Bella completely stunned. Matt finally snapped out of his trance. He stepped forward and delivered a stinging backhand across my face. I was ready for it. I turned my head at the last second, letting the momentum carry me so the blow wouldn’t do any real damage. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. Instead, I let out a bright, bubbling laugh. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number on speaker. “Officer Riley, you were totally right. My family really does love me.” The familiar, warm voice of the female cop echoed through the silent dining room. “I told you they would, Ivy. You’re never going to be alone again.” “Yeah, they love me to death,” I said, grinning widely at the horrified faces around me. “My dad just slapped me right across the face. Beating is a sign of affection, right? Just like you said.” I hung up the phone. The Kensingtons stared at me like I was possessed. “Who were you talking to?” Matt asked, his hand still shaking in the air. I blinked my innocent eyes. “The nice police lady who brought me home. She promised me you guys would love me, and she didn’t lie.” Matt’s chest heaved. He raised his hand again out of pure reflex. I eagerly leaned my face into his palm. “Hit me harder, Dad.” I pointed a finger at Bella. “Her mom always said the harder you hit, the deeper the love.” Matt’s hand froze mid air. He couldn’t bring it down. I frowned, letting my voice drop. “Dad, don’t you love me?” I reached down and yanked the hem of my oversized sweater all the way up. I exposed the canvas of my stomach and ribs. Burn marks from cigarette butts, jagged white scars from kitchen knives, and faded purple bruises mapped out a lifetime of agony. “Look. Her parents loved me so much. These are all marks of their devotion.” Amy began to tremble violently. Matt violently averted his eyes, unable to look. Jim stared at the mangled skin, his arrogant eyes widening in absolute horror. Only Bella looked at the scars with pure, selfish panic. “My poor Ivy… you suffered so much.” Amy choked out a sob and reached out, trying to pull me into a hug. I stepped right up to her and delivered a crisp, ringing slap across her perfectly powdered face. “I didn’t suffer at all, Mom! I have a mother now, and my mother loves me, and I love my mother.” Under Matt’s paralyzed gaze, I turned and gave him a heavy slap of “love” right on the cheek. Naturally, I made sure Jim and Bella got their fair share of affection too. I didn’t leave anyone out. A family should always match. Looking at the symmetrical red handprints blooming across all four of their faces, I nodded in deep satisfaction. “Mom, Dad, Jim, Bella. I really, really love you guys.” 4 The doorbell rang sharply. It was Officer Riley. The second she stepped inside and saw my swollen cheek, her protective instincts flared. She pulled me behind her. “Child abuse is a felony. As her legal guardians…” She trailed off when she finally looked up and saw the blazing red handprints on the faces of the entire Kensington family. Matt forced down his humiliation and quickly summarized the chaos that had just unfolded. Officer Riley listened, her eyes widening. She turned to look at me. I kept my head down, shrinking my shoulders like a terrified child who had just made a terrible mistake. “That’s really what Bella’s parents taught me.” I defended myself in a whisper. “They said hitting is caring, and cursing is loving. They treated me like that every single day.” I pulled up my sweater again, showing the horrific scars. “Look, Officer Riley. This is the proof of their love.” I kept ripping my own wounds open. I needed to do it over and over again. I needed to sear the reality of my torture into their brains. I wanted to see if they still had the guts to look me in the eye and call it “normal parenting.” Officer Riley had seen the scars at the station, but seeing them again made her eyes shine with angry tears. She pulled me into a tight, warm embrace. “Ivy, that is not love. Real love doesn’t leave scars. Everything they taught you was a sick lie. Promise me you won’t hit people anymore, okay?” I kept my head down, nervously twisting the hem of my shirt. “But Bella’s mom and dad swore it was love. They loved me like that for fifteen years.” “They are animals,” Riley spat without hesitation. “You are going to have a good life from now on. Your real parents are going to teach you what actual love looks like.” Before she left, Riley shot a freezing glare at the Kensingtons. “I will be checking in on Ivy regularly. I do not want to see her hurt ever again.” Once the door clicked shut, the massive house fell into a graveyard silence. Bella shrank back into the sofa, desperately trying to make herself invisible. Matt stared at me for a very long time. His eyes darted between my swollen cheek and the scars peeking out from my collar. Finally, he let out an exhausted sigh. “We will teach her how to behave properly. Take her upstairs to her room. Have the chef bring her dinner on a tray.” 5 For the next three days, the Kensingtons banned me from the dining room. All my meals were brought to my door. Even with me out of sight, Bella still couldn’t handle the reality of my existence. She spent her days weeping and throwing perfectly calculated pity parties. The family exhausted themselves trying to keep her happy. In a desperate bid to finally settle the tension, Matt and Amy knocked on my bedroom door. Amy sat on the edge of my bed, gently stroking my hair. “Ivy, it’s our fault for not finding you sooner. We let you suffer so much.” Her voice choked with emotion, real tears glimmering in her eyes. “Mom promises you, I will never let anyone hurt you ever again.” Matt’s imposing posture softened. He handed me a sleek, velvet jewelry box. “Dad bought this just for you. From now on, whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you.” I clutched the expensive box to my chest and flashed them a sickeningly sweet smile. Seeing my reaction, Amy eagerly pushed forward. “If there’s anything you want to do, just tell us. We will make it happen.” “Really?” My eyes sparkled with innocent hope. “Anything at all?” “Of course,” Matt chuckled, nodding indulgently. “You are our real daughter.” “I want to… go to the same private academy as Jim and Bella.” I watched their expressions carefully. “Can I?” They exchanged a brief, hesitant look. But seeing the desperate expectation in my eyes, they finally nodded. “Alright. We will make the arrangements.” In that exact moment, I was genuinely thrilled. Officer Riley told me that elite academy had an 85% acceptance rate into Ivy League universities. Even though my abusers kept me locked in a dirty basement, I used to scavenge old textbooks from the trash and teach myself in the dark. I used to watch kids walking to school with their backpacks and ache with envy. I never thought I would actually get to be one of them. I knew I wasn’t stupid. I knew I could make it into that 85%. As long as I got into a top college, I wouldn’t need a single cent from the Kensingtons. I could survive entirely on my own. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad,” I said, pouring real gratitude into my voice. Seeing my guard completely lowered, Amy exchanged another loaded glance with Matt. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ivy, actually… there’s something else we need to discuss with you.” Matt cleared his throat, choosing his words with agonizing care. “It’s about Bella’s biological parents. We know they treated you horribly. But if this goes to trial, and the kids at school find out Bella’s parents are felons, she’ll never be able to show her face in public again.” Amy squeezed my hand, her knuckles turning white. “I know it’s a terrible thing to ask, but could you… sign a formal letter of forgiveness for the court?” So that was it. The gentle strokes, the diamond necklace, the promise of the private school—it was all just bait. Everything they did was designed to protect the fragile reputation of the girl who stole my life. They wanted to protect her so badly they were willing to let the monsters who nearly beat their own flesh and blood to death walk free. I looked up at them and smiled like the perfect, obedient child. “Okay, Mom and Dad. I’ll do whatever you say.” If you want me to let those animals go, let’s see if you can handle the price. 6 Visible relief washed over both of their faces. Amy kissed my forehead. “Our Ivy is such an understanding girl.” As they let out their heavy sighs of relief and walked out of my room, I slipped out of bed and followed them like a shadow. Right as they walked into their massive master suite, I pushed past them and dropped straight to my knees on the imported Persian rug at the foot of their bed. “Ivy, what on earth—” Amy gasped. I looked up at them with wide, dead eyes. “Whenever I asked Bella’s dad for anything, he told me a worthless stray had to earn her keep. Before he would say yes to anything, he made me kneel by his bed all night.” “Dad promised to send me to the academy, so I have to repay Dad the right way.” Matt’s brow furrowed in deep confusion. He didn’t move. I lunged forward and grabbed Matt’s ankle, gripping it tightly with my small hands. “Bella’s dad made me scrub his feet and massage his legs until my fingers bled. He said it relieved his fatigue. He said if I stopped before the sun came up, I wouldn’t get to eat for three days, and he would take back whatever he promised me.” I dragged my hands up his calves, digging my nails in. “Dad, let me massage your legs. Let me earn my tuition. I really want to go to school with Jim and Bella.” “Stop this nonsense!” Matt violently jerked his leg back, his face turning an ashen white. Amy clamped a hand over her mouth, tears spilling over her cheeks. “How… how could they? You were just a child.” I instantly let go of Matt and grabbed Amy’s trembling hands. I forced her palms against my collarbone, right over a cluster of ugly, circular burn scars. “Bella’s mom said I had to learn gratitude. If I cried while I was kneeling, they pressed lit cigarettes into my skin. Have you ever burned Bella to teach her gratitude?” “No… stop talking, please.” Amy tried to yank her hands away, but I locked my fingers over her wrists with terrifying strength. “They said as long as I scrubbed the floors on my bleeding knees and took the burns without screaming, they would treat me well.” I stared up at them, my voice cracking with desperate, manufactured pleading. “I want you to treat me well too! Let me kneel here all night! Punish me if I fall asleep! Please!” “Enough!” Matt roared, his voice cracking with horror. “Ivy, get off the floor!” I flinched dramatically and curled into a tight ball on the rug, my voice dropping to a terrified whisper. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know I was doing it wrong. Whenever I refused to kneel, they locked me in the closet without water. They told me this was how families showed love. If Bella hadn’t been switched, would they have loved her like this too?” “Bella would never—” Matt choked on his own words, looking like he was about to vomit. Amy broke down completely, sobbing hysterically into her hands. Were they crying because of the torture I endured? Or were they crying because they were picturing their precious Bella suffering the same fate? I didn’t care to guess. I offered them a bright, polite thank you for the school transfer, walked back to my room, and slept like the dead. No beatings. No cold floors. 7 After that night, Matt and Amy never mentioned the letter of forgiveness ever again. I guess there was still a shred of human conscience buried somewhere inside them. I still remembered the day I dragged myself out of that house and collapsed on the street in front of Officer Riley. She had kicked the abusive bastard to the ground when he chased after me. She screamed in his face, calling him an animal. She was the one who personally locked them in a cell. She was a total stranger. Yet my own flesh and blood had tried to trick me into setting them free. If I said it didn’t hurt a little, I’d be lying. But for someone whose only goal was survival, that kind of emotional pain was utterly insignificant. When my sophomore year started, I officially transferred into the elite prep school, walking the same halls as Bella and Jim. Jim and I were fraternal twins. People always say twins share a deep, telepathic bond. But out of everyone in the Kensington house, he hated me the most. Every time he saw me in the hallway, he backed me into a locker. “If I catch you talking shit about Bella to anyone at this school, I don’t care if we share DNA. I will destroy you.” Looking at him puffing out his chest and turning red in the face, he looked exactly like the aggressive geese I used to butcher for dinner back in the slums. Bella, on the other hand, had become surprisingly quiet. She must have noticed the heavy, guilt-ridden looks Matt and Amy directed my way after the bedroom incident. She stopped throwing tantrums and started acting like a terrified little rabbit every time I walked into a room, expertly farming sympathy from the rest of the family. I couldn’t care less. I knew my academic foundation was trash, so I poured every ounce of my energy into catching up. I woke up before dawn to memorize vocabulary. I stayed up past midnight burning through practice exams. The second I got home from school, I locked myself in my room, functioning like a tireless machine. I was running a marathon against kids who had a fifteen-year head start. Perhaps out of guilt, Matt and Amy started paying a lot more attention to me at dinner. That shift in focus made Bella incredibly anxious. A few days later, during passing period, a group of girls in designer uniforms cornered me in the girls’ bathroom. One of them held up her phone, the red recording light blinking. They laughed as they shoved me against the tiles. Someone grabbed a fistful of my hair and tried to force my face toward the toilet bowl. Open-handed slaps rained down on my face and shoulders. “Think you can turn into a swan just because you live in a mansion?” “Look at you. You reek of poverty. You really think you belong in the same school as us?” I didn’t fight back. I let them push me around, my body trembling slightly—not from fear, but from raw, electric excitement. The second the girl lowered her phone and stopped recording, I slowly lifted my head. I gave them a dark, blood-chilling smile. “Done filming? My turn.” These pampered princesses hit like they were swatting flies. Compared to the fifteen years of bone-breaking beatings I had survived, this was a gentle massage. By the time I straightened my collar and casually walked out of the bathroom stall, the only sounds left behind me were agonizing groans. Bella was waiting at the end of the hallway, expecting to see her little gang walk out victorious. Instead, she locked eyes with me. My face was bruised and my lip was bleeding. I smiled at her. “Better start thinking about how you’re going to clean up this mess.” The fallout was massive. The principal’s office was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with furious, wealthy parents. The room buzzed with outrage. A woman dripping in diamonds pointed a manicured finger right at my face. “You dared to lay a hand on my daughter? I’ll make sure you rot in juvenile detention!” “Mrs. Sterling is absolutely right,” a man in a tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses added, his voice like ice. “The bruise on my daughter’s neck is physical evidence. The Vance family will not let this slide!” The girl in the pink skirt, whose face was currently swollen to the size of a grapefruit, hid behind her mother and shrieked. “Mom, she’s a psycho! We just gave her some friendly advice, and she attacked us like a rabid dog!” Her mother pulled her into a protective hug and glared at the principal. “Mr. Davis, a student with this kind of violent psychosis needs to be expelled immediately. What if she brings a knife to school next time?” “Exactly,” another woman in a Chanel suit scoffed. “I heard she grew up in the slums. She’s carrying degenerate genes. We refuse to let our children breathe the same air as someone like her.” Bella leaned against Matt’s arm, weeping softly. “It’s all my fault… if it wasn’t for me, Ivy wouldn’t have lost her temper…” Matt’s face was livid. The homeroom teacher seized the moment to add fuel to the fire. “Mr. Kensington, your daughter has been causing friction since the day she transferred. Today, she brutally assaulted three honors students. We cannot allow one bad apple to ruin the academy’s prestige.” “Dad, look at her,” Jim sneered from the corner. “She just stands there looking like a serial killer. She’s damaged goods.” Surrounded by a firing squad of billionaires and academics, I suddenly let out a soft laugh.

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1 I was a Special Ops Commander’s secret girlfriend for seven years. My mother, worried, had urged me to move on—this was her 99th try. She mentioned a former classmate asking about me, suggesting it was time to consider someone else. Gideon and I were to attend a military reunion the next day. I promised her I’d give him one last chance: if he still wouldn’t acknowledge us, I’d leave. At the reunion, a game called Blind Fate had single men blindly choose a woman’s hand from behind a curtain. When it was Gideon’s turn, I offered my left hand—the one with a jagged scar from taking a bullet for him years ago. He’d once vowed he’d always recognize my touch. But when the curtain lifted, he was holding Audrey’s hand—the academy’s former crush. The room cheered, calling it fate. Audrey blushed; Gideon smirked and didn’t pull away. I just looked at my scar. His promise lasted far less than a lifetime. … The room was heavy with single men and short on single women. After the game ended, a few couples were jokingly paired off, leaving a handful of us sitting alone. I was one of them. Jason, our old class monitor, finally noticed me sitting quietly by the wall. He raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. “Sienna, you’re really still on the market? Hard to believe.” I ignored the sharp, warning look Gideon shot my way. I just smiled and shook my head. “I’m not single.” The loud chatter in the room died for a split second. Gideon’s hand froze halfway to his glass. For a fleeting moment, his eyes went completely blank. Right on cue, my phone buzzed against the table. I did not even need to look at the screen to know who it was. Over the last seven years, the only time he ever texted me with that kind of desperate urgency was when he was terrified I might speak out of turn. I kept my head up. I did not touch the phone. “Oh damn, since when?” Blake, our old sports captain, leaned in with a grin. “Who’s the lucky guy? You just played a singles game while secretly taken. You’re sneaky, Sienna.” I met Blake’s gossipy stare. “He’s a great guy. Steady. He treats me really well.” “How’d you guys meet?” Blake pushed, clearly invested. “You never post him on social media. You haven’t breathed a word about him.” Before I could answer, a soft cough echoed from across the table. Gideon picked up his whiskey glass, his tone dripping with casual annoyance. “Blake, are you running a background check? If she doesn’t want to talk about it, drop it.” Blake rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Alright, alright, my bad. Let’s drink.” Gideon threw his head back and drained his glass in one fluid motion. I picked up my teacup and took a slow sip. The tea had gone completely cold, making the bitter taste cling to the back of my throat. The spotlight quickly shifted off me and landed squarely on Gideon. Blake’s booming voice carried over the music. “Speaking of relationship statuses, Gideon is the one we should be interrogating. What’s the deal with our most eligible bachelor?” “Exactly!” someone chimed in. “Back at the academy, the line of girls chasing you stretched from the dorms to the main gates. How are you still flying solo?” Gideon leaned back in his chair. That familiar, careless smile rested on his lips. He stayed silent. Blake dragged out his words, his eyes darting back and forth between Gideon and Audrey. “Unless there’s someone who’s always owned your heart, making everyone else look invisible?” Audrey dropped her gaze, the tips of her ears burning a bright crimson. The room exploded into laughter and catcalls. “Holy shit, Blake, just say her name already!” “Like it’s a secret? We all remember how it was back then.” “Man, that blindfold game tonight really sealed the deal.” The cheering grew louder, crashing over the table in waves. Audrey’s face flushed deeper. She playfully shoved the guy sitting next to her, murmuring for them to stop talking nonsense. Gideon neither confirmed nor denied it. The smile on his lips simply deepened. After seven years in the shadows, I knew how to read every micro-expression on his face. I knew exactly what that smile meant. It meant he didn’t hate the rumors. It meant he welcomed their teasing. It meant Audrey’s blushing ears fed his ego perfectly. The coldness from my teacup seeped through my skin, traveling straight up my arm and settling in my chest until my fingertips went entirely numb. “Come on, Gideon, say something!” someone urged. Gideon finally spoke, his voice wrapped in a lazy drawl. “What do you want me to say?” “Tell us if it’s true!” 2 He let out a low chuckle and placed his empty glass on the table. “What answer are you guys fishing for?” That vague response sparked more wild imaginations than a straight confession ever could. The private room turned into a chaotic celebration. Audrey pressed her lips together to hide a smile, her eyes sparkling like they caught the light. I used to have that same light in my eyes. But I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started to fade. It just dimmed, day by day, until I ended up here. Standing in the middle of a crowded room like an absolute outsider, listening to old friends cheer for the man I loved and the woman he actually wanted. “Alright, alright, let’s calm down,” Jason intervened with perfect timing. “Stop putting the poor girl on the spot. Everyone, raise your glasses!” The clinking of glass rang out around the table. I lifted my cold tea along with them. Audrey choked a little on her cocktail, coughing until her face flushed. Gideon’s head snapped toward her immediately. Without missing a beat, he took her drink away, replaced it with a glass of warm honey water, and pulled a napkin from the dispenser to hand to her. I stared down at the soggy tea leaves resting at the bottom of my cup. This group got together once a year. Every year it was the same routine. The seating arrangements shifted, the gossip evolved, but one thing remained utterly unchanged for seven years. Gideon never once put food on my plate, poured my water, or even called me by my full first name in front of them. He always said he needed to maintain boundaries. He claimed the military rumor mill was vicious, that dating a fellow officer could complicate his promotion, that people would talk, that there were endless rules to navigate. I believed him. I waited. I waited for seven long years. I waited until I was completely used to sitting three chairs away from him. I got used to him walking past me without breaking his stride. I perfected the role of the polite, distant former classmate. It wasn’t until tonight, when Audrey finally returned from her overseas peacekeeping tour and walked into this room, that the truth hit me. The woman he desperately wanted to show off to the world was never me. I unlocked my phone. The screen lit up with the two glaring words he had just sent me: [Drop it.] I stared at those words until my eyes burned. My fingers unconsciously traced the scar on my wrist. It hadn’t hurt in seven years. But tonight, for some inexplicable reason, it itched terribly. It felt like something was clawing its way out from deep inside my bones, only to rot the second it hit the air. “Hey, speaking of which,” Sarah, our old social secretary, chimed in. “Audrey just got back stateside. We need to find her a man, fast.” “Her parents made it clear. If she doesn’t settle down soon, they’re sending her back overseas for good.” “We can’t let that happen!” Blake shouted. “We’ve got a room full of elite officers. No way we let them ship you out.” Audrey smiled shyly, keeping quiet while the back of her neck turned pink. “Well, the solution is sitting right here.” Blake shot a loaded look at Gideon. The table erupted all over again. “Hell yeah, Gideon, time to step up!” “Don’t make the lady wait any longer, man.” “Match made in heaven!” People nudged Audrey, practically pushing her into Gideon’s space. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t pull away either. Gideon just sat there, wearing that unreadable smirk. He didn’t say a word. But his silence was all the answer anyone needed. A sudden thought crossed my mind. I opened the chat with my mother and finally gave her the answer she had been begging for. [Okay. I’m fine with the wedding date. I’ve already filed my marriage paperwork with base admin.] The second I put my phone facedown, Harper leaned across the table toward me. “Wedding date? Paperwork? Sienna, are you getting married?” 3 Her voice wasn’t particularly loud, but she asked right as the cheering for Gideon died down. Half a dozen pairs of eyes snapped toward me. I smiled, offering no denials. “Yeah. I’m not getting any younger. My parents picked out a date.” “Holy shit!” Blake was the first to lose his mind. “We literally just found out you were dating someone, and you’re skipping straight to the altar?” “Who is this mystery guy? Is it someone from the academy?” “When’s the reception?” The questions pelted me from all sides. I was just about to laugh it off and give a vague answer when Audrey suddenly spoke up. “Oh, stop crowding her, you’re going to make her uncomfortable,” Audrey said sweetly. “But if a date is set, you guys must have been together for a really long time, right, Sienna?” That question sucked the air out of the room. Every eye was locked on me. I let my lips curve up into a small smile. “We’ve known each other a month. He’s a good man. Steady. He’s an officer, too.” That dropped like a bomb. It hit so hard that the silent figure sitting diagonally across from me instantly stiffened, his spine snapping straight. “Wait, Sienna, are you serious?” “With your looks and credentials, you don’t need to do a one-month flash marriage!” “It’s not a flash marriage,” I replied, my voice perfectly level as I took another sip of my cold tea. “When you meet the right person and your values align, a month is plenty of time.” Gideon remained frozen in that rigid posture. Over the years, I had dropped countless hints that I wanted a family, that I wanted to be his actual partner in the light of day. Just a month ago, I had practically begged for his birth details so my mom could take our charts to an astrologer to pick a lucky date. He knew exactly what I was talking about. A layer of frost flickered across his face before melting back into his usual composed mask. He was probably relieved I said one month instead of seven years. “Congratulations,” Audrey said softly, her smile the picture of grace. “When’s the reception?” There was no dodging it now. I didn’t try to. “The end of this month. I hope all of you can make it.” Audrey’s smile grew sweeter. She rested her chin in her hands, looking right at me. “That’s wonderful. Honestly, though, I always thought…” Someone caught the bait. “Thought what?” “I thought,” Audrey giggled, her eyes flicking toward Gideon, “that you were waiting for a certain someone to come around.” “You chased him so hard back in the day, we all assumed you wouldn’t settle for anyone else.” As an awkward silence settled over the table, she quickly added, “But this is great. I’m glad you finally figured things out.” “Hey Gideon,” someone joked, trying to break the tension. “She’s getting married. Aren’t you going to say something?” Gideon leaned back, not even bothering to lift his eyes. “That’s all in the past.” A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. The past? If only they knew Gideon was the one who chased me first. Because we kept it a secret, everyone assumed all the care and devotion I poured into him was just a desperate, one-sided obsession. He could have easily said, ‘We used to date,’ and cleared my name. Instead, he let them believe my seven years of loyalty were nothing but a pathetic, unrequited joke. “Alright, alright, let’s drink to that!” Jason rallied the table. “Cheers to another one of us leaving the singles club!” Glasses clinked. I spent the next half hour in total peace. I chatted with a few of the girls about their deployments, listened to them complain about their kids, and offered polite nods. Audrey tried a few times to steer the conversation back to my ‘fiancé,’ but I smoothly redirected it every time. When the party finally broke up, people headed for the exit in small groups. “Gideon,” Audrey called out from behind me, her voice laced with timid hesitation. “It’s really late. Could you… give me a ride? The motel I’m at is on the outskirts of town. It’s pretty sketchy.” I was bending down to grab my purse. I didn’t even pause. The chorus of teasing started up immediately. “Ooh, look at that.” “Obviously he’s going to take you!” “Your time to shine, man!” I stood up and walked right past them. In my peripheral vision, I saw Gideon standing beside her. He smiled. “Let’s go.” Clean, decisive, without a fraction of hesitation. I pushed through the heavy doors. The freezing night wind slipped down my collar, carrying the sound of their laughter far into the distance. I stood in the elevator watching the digital numbers tick down. When it hit the number seven, I was dragged back to that sweltering summer seven years ago. He had been a wreck because Audrey was leaving the country. His mind was somewhere else during the raid, and he didn’t see the insurgent sneaking up behind him. I threw myself in front of him on pure instinct. While the medic stitched me up, Gideon held my hand against his face. He kept whispering, “I’ll never lose you in a crowd. This scar is my anchor. I’ll know it for the rest of my life.” A lifetime was painfully short. It was short enough that a stupid party game could make him drop my hand and grab someone else’s. The elevator doors chimed open. I stepped out. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Gideon. [You behaved yourself tonight. But saying you’re getting married at the end of the month is taking the joke too far. We’ll figure out how to do damage control when I get home.] I let out a soft laugh and closed our chat thread. There was no need for damage control anymore. 4 I woke up early the next morning from a shallow, restless sleep just as Gideon unlocked the front door. He paused in the entryway when he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, folding my clothes. “You’re up early,” he said, shrugging off his jacket as if nothing was wrong. “What’s the occasion? You didn’t blow up my phone last night.” I finally looked up at him. He was right. Whenever he stayed out late before, I would sit by my phone until the early hours of the morning, worried sick. “Why didn’t you reply to my last message?” I asked. He walked over to the water dispenser, keeping his back to me as he filled a glass. He took a sip. “I drove Audrey back. Her motel was in a rough neighborhood. She was scared, so I stayed outside her door for a bit. It got too late to drive back, so I just crashed in the lobby for a few hours.” “I’ve already transferred her to the VIP guest quarters on base,” he added, his tone taking on a placating edge. “Security is tight. She’s safe now.” I smoothed out the crease on my uniform jacket and stayed quiet. There were so many questions I could have asked. When you say you stayed outside her door, did you really stay in the hall, or did you go inside? When you say you crashed for a few hours, was it on a lobby couch, or in her bed? But I didn’t want to ask. For the past seven years, he had been relatively good to me. Even though he kept me a secret, he was strict about maintaining boundaries with other women. I just never wanted to admit that those iron-clad boundaries completely dissolved the second Audrey was involved. If she posted at 2 A.M. about insomnia, he would text her until dawn. If she missed American food overseas, he’d drive out of his way to ship her care packages. On every single birthday, he calculated the time difference to ensure he was the first to text her. He did those things for me as a boyfriend. But he did them for her, too. I had questioned him about it countless times. Every time, he had a hundred logical reasons to shut me down. This time, the reasons didn’t matter anymore. He set his glass down, his eyes finally dropping to the open suitcase on the floor. His brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” “Going back home,” I said calmly, tucking the folded jacket into the luggage. “I’m heading back to stay with my parents before the wedding. It’s tradition.” He froze. Then he crossed the room, crouched down beside me, and clamped his hand over the shirt I was about to pack. “The joke is over, Sienna. Drop it.” I met his gaze head-on. “It’s not a joke.” “The astrologer checked our charts. We’re a perfect match.” I lowered my eyes and pulled the shirt out from under his grip. “If I don’t get married this year, I’ll have to wait two more years for a lucky date.” He stared at me, the casual laziness finally vanishing from his eyes. After a long silence, he spoke. “Two years is fine.” “Once I get through these next two years of deployments, I can give you a much better wedding.” My hands stopped moving. Two years? I remembered him saying the exact same thing two years ago. In his mind, my life was just an endless series of two-year extensions that he could spend however he pleased. “Just drop a message in the group chat later. Tell them you had too much to drink and the wedding talk was bullshit.” His voice softened, slipping into that coaxing tone he used when he wanted his way. “No one took it seriously anyway.” “I wasn’t drinking.” I stood up and zipped the suitcase closed. “Everyone knows I’m allergic to alcohol. I never touch it at reunions.” He blinked, thrown off balance. It was as if he suddenly realized how many basic facts about my life he had completely ignored. I checked my watch. It was time to go. “Are you done throwing a tantrum?” His voice dropped, growing harsh. “Is this because I didn’t claim you in front of everyone? Are you really using a fake marriage to punish me?” I looked at him, about to speak, when he suddenly pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, there’s something I haven’t told you. Actually…” Before he could finish, his phone started ringing. He glanced at the screen, walked over to the window, and answered it. The call was brief. He hung up, stood in silence for a few seconds, and then turned back to me. “Audrey is having a panic attack at the guest quarters. I need to go check on her. We’ll finish this when I get back.” He grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. … Three hours later. Gideon’s truck pulled up outside our apartment building. Audrey was sitting in the passenger seat. “I’m so sorry,” she smiled, looking perfectly apologetic. “I’ve been out of the country so long, I just can’t handle sleeping in strange quarters alone. Thanks for letting me crash for a couple of days… It won’t cause any problems, right?” Gideon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “No.” He figured he’d just have to explain the situation to Sienna. A few soft words and she’d let it go. She was always reasonable. He pulled out his phone and started typing as they walked to the elevator: [Audrey is going to stay in the spare room for…] He stopped, deleted the text, and put the phone away. It was better to tell her face-to-face. Besides, it was about time everyone knew they were together anyway. He unlocked the front door. The apartment was dead silent. Audrey rolled her suitcase inside, looking around the spacious living room. “Wow, this place is gorgeous. Isn’t it lonely living in such a big place all by yourself?” Gideon trailed behind her, his eyes scanning the living room. His feet carried him automatically toward the master bedroom. He pushed the door open. What he saw made his blood run completely cold.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418529”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After graduation, my pride got the better of me. I lied to my college classmates, telling them I was heading overseas for my master’s degree. In reality, I slunk back to my dead-end hometown, working a soul-crushing job that barely paid minimum wage. Two years later, my absolute ride-or-die best friend called me out of the blue. She asked if I still remembered Arthur Sinclair. Then she dropped the bomb. Arthur Sinclair was actively searching for a body double of his college crush. The compensation? One hundred thousand dollars a month. A cool million if you signed on for a year. I froze right there in my cubicle. Since when did the universe hand out free money like this? 1 Back in college, I was the ultimate fake-it-till-you-make-it queen. For four solid years, I put on an Oscar-worthy performance. On the surface, I was a delicate, sheltered trust-fund baby with an impeccable aesthetic. Behind closed doors, I was surviving on a hundred bucks a month. The only reason I pulled off the rich-girl illusion was because of my best friend, Harper. She had a walk-in closet bigger than my entire childhood home. Not only was it stuffed with every designer label imaginable, but she let me borrow whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. One act of kindness from her bought my absolute loyalty for life. It was worth it. Completely worth it. Originally, Harper and I planned to open a boutique creative agency in New York after graduation. She would be the angel investor, and I would handle the creative tech. But life loves a cruel plot twist. My mom got into a horrific car accident back in Ohio. A drunk driver left her in a persistent vegetative state. The settlement money barely covered the ICU bills, let alone a private, full-time caretaker. My biological father, who had started a new family years ago, showed up at the hospital just long enough to hear the prognosis. He shoved fifty bucks into my hands and told me to never contact him again. Harper cried on the phone, offering to wire me the money for a top-tier nurse so I could still move to New York and start the business with her. As much as I loved keeping up appearances, I knew I couldn’t drain my best friend’s bank account. After agonizing over it for days, I gave up my glittering future, packed my bags, and went back to Ohio to take care of my family. By day, I worked an entry-level clerical job for a miserable salary. By night, I relieved my grandmother at the hospital, sitting by my mom’s bedside. Meanwhile, my college group chats were constantly buzzing. People kept tagging me, asking why I missed the alumni dinners. When you step out into the real world, you get to write your own narrative. My pride was a fragile, stubborn thing. I literally set five different alarms in the middle of the night just to post aesthetic photos and reply to messages, creating the perfect illusion that I was living my best life in Paris. And incredibly, it worked. They bought it completely, begging me to bring back authentic French pastries and luxury perfumes. Some asked about my program, while others gossiped, dying to know if I was dating a gorgeous European model. The questions got so ridiculous that I finally had to mute the chat and go ghost. I couldn’t risk my carefully constructed bubble bursting. 2 Sometimes, karma comes for those who fake it. During rush hour the very next day, I was packed into the subway like a sardine. By the time I stepped off the train, my phone was gone. Pickpocketed. For someone already drowning in medical bills, this was a devastating blow. Scraping together what little cash I had, I bought the cheapest, bulkiest burner phone I could find. A literal brick. I only gave the new number to Harper. We kept in close touch, and she would occasionally fly out to Ohio just to grab drinks and check on me. She asked if I wanted her to add my new number back into the alumni group chats. I thought about it and declined. Covering up one lie requires a dozen more. It was easier to just use the stolen phone as an excuse to fade into the background. Two years went by just like that. Then, on a slow Tuesday afternoon while I was slacking off at my desk, Harper called. “Stella! Massive news!” Her voice was so loud it leaked through the speaker, catching the attention of my miserable micromanager, who immediately glared at me and started walking over to confiscate my phone. I ducked behind my monitor, covering my mouth. “What is it, Harp? I’m literally at work.” Harper sounded like she had drank five espressos. “Do you still remember Arthur Sinclair?” I searched my memory. It rang a bell, but just barely. I only remembered him as the heir to one of the wealthiest real estate empires on the East Coast. A guy with more money than God. Harper’s next words made me accidentally shriek. “He is literally searching for your body double! One hundred thousand dollars a month! A million a year!” “He’s doing what?” I bolted upright, making direct eye contact with my furious manager. “I’m dead serious,” Harper swore. “He put the word out himself. Half the girls in the city are trying to make themselves look like you right now just to get a piece of that payout!” “I swear to God, I don’t understand it. Why is he looking for your clone? And why is he dropping that kind of insane cash?” Harper kept rambling, but the audio completely faded out. The only thing echoing in my brain was: One hundred thousand a month. A million a year. I hadn’t even secured the bag yet, but I was already planning how to spend it. Step one: fire my boss. My manager was standing right in front of my desk, hands on her hips, screeching about company phone policies. I gave her a look that was seventy percent absolute ice, twenty percent pure disdain, and ten percent pity. I grabbed the massive stack of unfinished paperwork on my desk and slammed it right against her chest. “I am absolutely done with this twelve-dollar-an-hour nightmare. Find some other corporate slave to torture!” “Goodbye and good riddance!” Basking in the awe-struck stares of my miserable coworkers, I strutted out the door. I even grabbed the little potted money tree from the reception desk on my way out. A company that refuses to offer a 401k doesn’t deserve good feng shui anyway! 3 Riding the high of finally quitting, I rushed straight to the hospital to process my mom’s transfer paperwork. I was moving my mom and my grandmother to New York. First, it would be easier to take care of them. Second, the medical facilities in the city were world-class. With top-tier neurological rehab, there might actually be a miracle. It took a full week to get my mom safely settled into a private room at one of Manhattan’s premier hospitals. I paid for an upgraded suite so my grandmother had a comfortable place to rest, and rented a tiny, closet-sized studio apartment nearby for myself. By the time all the logistics were sorted, my savings and the remainder of the settlement money were completely wiped out. I stared at the three-digit balance in my checking account. My fingers acted on their own, dialing Harper’s number. “Harp, I’m in the City. Where exactly do I go to audition for this body double gig?” Harper texted me a sprawling estate address and a private phone number, telling me to call it when I arrived. I checked the time. It was still early. I dug through my duffel bag and pulled out my designated “interview blazer.” When I sat down in front of a cheap two-dollar mirror to do my makeup, reality hit me. I hadn’t bought a single new beauty product in two years. I was no longer the delicate, glowing college girl. I was an exhausted corporate drone beaten down by two years of late nights and cheap ramen. I hesitated. Eventually, I walked into a Sephora and used the tester products to do a full face of free makeup. To hide the dark circles and my exhausted complexion, I had to layer on a ridiculous amount of foundation. I barely looked seventy percent like my old self. But the commute was brutal. The bus felt like a rolling sauna, and the air conditioning was practically non-existent because an older passenger insisted on keeping the windows open. My carefully applied makeup completely melted off in the heat. My eyeliner smudged into massive raccoon circles, making me look like a sleep-deprived goth. When I stepped off the bus and checked my reflection in a storefront window, I nearly passed out from pure anger. But victory was right in front of me. I wasn’t about to give up now. Gritting my teeth, I pulled a wet wipe from my purse and scrubbed my face completely clean. I was naturally gorgeous anyway. Auditioning to play myself? Piece of cake. 4 I confidently pedaled a rented Citi Bike right up to the gates of an ultra-exclusive billionaire’s row. The moment I clicked the bike lock, a security guard marched over to chase me away. “What do you think you’re doing? If you don’t have an invitation, take this piece of junk and get lost!” Excuse me? The absolute disrespect! My inner diva flared to life. I gave the guard a withering side-eye and elegantly pulled my device out of my pocket. My Nokia brick phone. I dialed the number Harper gave me. “Hello. I’m here for the body double audition. I’m currently standing at the front gates, and your security guard is trying to throw me out. Could you please come out and get me?” A smooth male voice came through the receiver. “You’re here for the audition? Understood. Please wait a moment, I’ll be right out.” I put the phone on speaker and glared at the guard. “Did you hear that? Consider that my invitation.” “Try to chase me away one more time. I dare you. I will personally ensure the homeowner gets you fired!” The guard snapped his mouth shut, gave me a wary look, and retreated to his little booth. I waited by the gate for a few minutes. A sleek, midnight-black Bentley rolled out of the estate. Assuming it was one of the rich residents leaving for the day, I took a step back to let it pass. Instead, the luxury car stopped perfectly in front of me. The window rolled down. The driver was a devastatingly handsome man in casual designer clothes. His voice matched the one on the phone perfectly. “May I ask your name?” “Hi, my last name is Bennett.” “Alright, Miss Bennett. Please get in. I’ll take you inside.” 5 First came the shock of being chauffeured in a Bentley. Then came the sheer, overwhelming shock of walking into a penthouse mansion that had to be at least six thousand square feet. I knew Arthur Sinclair was wealthy. I just didn’t comprehend that he was this wealthy. I admit it, I’m shallow. I love money. If this meant I had to fall in love with Arthur Sinclair, I was absolutely willing to take that bullet. The moment I stepped into the grand living room, I saw over a dozen women sitting on the plush velvet sofas. Their heads snapped toward me in unison. Every single one of them had recreated my signature “effortless” college makeup look. The bizarre, uncanny valley feeling of seeing a room full of almost-me’s made the hair on my arms stand up. But I had to admit, two of them actually looked strikingly similar to me with all that contouring. All the other candidates were dressed in stunning, high-fashion outfits. In contrast, I was standing there in a cheap blazer. I looked less like a romantic body double and more like the new maid. I found a quiet corner on the sofa and sat down. The gorgeous girl next to me immediately pinched her nose and scooted away. “Ugh, what is that cheap perfume…” Was she seriously insulting the hand-stitched magnolia sachet my grandmother made for me? My patience snapped. I stared at her, desperately trying to find a flaw so I could visually destroy her. I looked her up and down. Left and right. To my absolute horror, I realized something. Aside from my actual face, I didn’t have a single thing on her. Is this what pretty privilege felt like? I clicked my tongue and casually touched my slightly dry cheek. “Honestly, girls who look absolutely nothing like Mr. Sinclair’s first love really shouldn’t even bother showing up.” “Unlike me. Even without a ten-step skincare routine, I’m still a solid seventy percent match.” Perfume Girl’s face turned a violent shade of green. She couldn’t refute a single word because I was spitting pure facts. Frustrated, she resorted to cheap emotional damage. “Hmph. Look at how pathetic and broke you are. Even if Mr. Sinclair doesn’t pick me, there is zero chance he’ll ever look twice at a beggar like you.” She made a very valid point. Any normal person would have folded right then and there. But I wasn’t normal. I was a master of faking it. I said I was going to secure Arthur Sinclair’s bank account, and I meant it. Just then, heavy oak doors opened down the hall. A stunning girl walked out, looking utterly defeated. As she walked past us, I caught her muttering to herself. “I was disqualified because I have a mole on my neck? If his standards are this psycho, why doesn’t he just fly overseas and chase the real girl down?” “Next,” a deep, magnetic voice called from inside the room. The handsome guy from the Bentley walked over and asked who wanted to go next. Before I could even open my mouth, Perfume Girl pointed directly at me. “Let her go first. She smells weird, and I’m suffocating out here!” I stood up, completely unbothered. “I smell like Mother Nature. You just smell like desperate capitalism.” With that, I marched into the room, leaving her furious sputtering behind the heavy doors. 6 I turned around with a perfect customer-service smile, locking eyes with a visibly stunned Arthur Sinclair. “Hello, Mr. Sinclair. My name is Ella.” He stared at me, completely mesmerized, not saying a word. It wasn’t until I confidently sat down in the chair across from his mahogany desk that he finally blinked. “You…” Arthur had shed the youthful vibe of his college days. He looked incredibly mature, powerful, and intimidatingly handsome in his bespoke suit. He paused, measuring his words carefully. “You look very much like her.” I nodded enthusiastically, taking the opportunity to flatter myself. “To be compared to your stunning, unforgettable first love is the greatest honor of my life.” Arthur took a slow breath before delivering the killing blow. “However, you only look similar. Your eyes aren’t quite as large as hers, and your nose isn’t as perfectly sloped.” “Furthermore, your skin seems much duller than hers.” Dude, have you never heard of the magic of highlighter and concealer? I swallowed my protests. He was technically insulting me, but also praising the “real” me. It was a bizarre paradox. I honestly didn’t know how to respond. I just maintained my fake corporate smile and looked at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Those are just minor imperfections. I can easily fix all of that with a good makeup artist.” “As long as you hire me, I am willing to learn and adapt to anything you need!” Arthur’s eyes flickered with a strange light. He asked a very direct question. “Why exactly are you applying to be a body double?” What kind of question was that? “For the money, obviously.” Arthur stared deeply into my eyes. I held his gaze without flinching. After a long moment, a faint smile curved his lips. He picked up his sleek phone from the desk. “Understood. Let’s exchange contacts. My team will notify you of the results shortly.” I chirped a bright “Okay!” and pulled my brick phone out of my bag. I mashed the physical buttons a few times before sliding it across the desk. “You’ll have to type your number in. My camera is completely busted, so I can’t scan anything.” Arthur finally got a good look at my ancient Nokia. His expression didn’t change, but he gave me a long, unreadable look. He didn’t say a word. After exchanging numbers, I floated out of the room feeling like a million bucks. Before leaving the waiting area, I blew a dramatic kiss to Perfume Girl. “Good luck in there, sweetie!” 7 The very next day, while sitting in the hospital cafeteria, I got a text from Arthur. He told me I passed the interview and sent an address, demanding I meet him there immediately. I opened the location on my map app. Well then. It was the most exclusive, ultra-luxury designer boutique on Fifth Avenue. Did Arthur think I looked too tragic and decided I needed a complete makeover? Music to my ears. For the first time in years, I splurged. I ordered a premium rideshare and cruised all the way into the city in comfort. It only took twenty minutes to arrive. Arthur was already sitting inside the boutique. I was about to walk in and greet him, but a snobby sales associate immediately blocked the entrance. “I am so sorry, miss. Our boutique does not allow casual browsing or trying on garments without an appointment. Perhaps you would be more comfortable looking at the stores down the block?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, do I look like someone who can’t afford your clothes?” She gave me a strained, patronizing smile. “That is not what I meant—” “You’re absolutely right, I can’t afford a single thing in here,” I interrupted her, pointing straight at Arthur, who was looking up from his phone. “But he can.” The associate froze. She turned around just in time to see Arthur Sinclair nodding in my direction. Her attitude shifted faster than a sports car. A second later, she was beaming radiantly, ushering me inside with royal treatment. I sat down on the velvet sofa across from Arthur. The handsome guy from the Bentley—who I learned was his assistant, Noah—pulled two items out of a leather briefcase and placed them on the glass coffee table. “This is your employment contract, Miss Bennett. Please review the terms. If everything is acceptable, you may sign at the bottom.” I flipped through the pages. My hand actually started to shake. Arthur Sinclair was the patron saint of capitalism. Forget the $100,000 monthly salary—this man was offering a full 401k match, premium dental, and platinum-tier health insurance! I suddenly felt intensely grateful that two years ago, after my father’s betrayal, I had legally changed my last name to my mother’s maiden name. If I was still walking around as Stella Wright, I wouldn’t have dared accept this kind of corporate package from him. Tears of pure joy pricked my eyes as I signed the last page: Ella Bennett. 8 Aside from the contract, Noah also handed me a sealed box containing the newest, most expensive smartphone on the market. The boutique’s AC was blasting, but the sleek phone box felt burning hot in my hands. To show my immediate gratitude to my new billionaire boss, I unboxed it right in front of him, saved his number, and set his contact name to “The Boss.” He caught a glimpse of the screen and immediately frowned. “Isn’t ‘The Boss’ a little too corporate?” Fair point. I tested the waters. “Well, what did your unforgettable first love save your name as?” Honestly, I didn’t expect him to have an answer. Because as the actual girl in question, I had never even added his number in college, let alone given him a cute nickname. Or maybe I did add him, but completely ignored his existence. Either way, no memory of it. To my absolute shock, not only did he answer me, but the tips of his ears turned slightly red. “Arthur.” “Her friends told me she had my name saved simply as ‘Arthur’, with a red heart.” Wait, seriously? If Harper was the one feeding him this information, I could perfectly picture her getting annoyed by his questions and just making up the most cliché romantic garbage to get him to leave her alone. Poor, naive CEO. Completely manipulated. I typed out “Arthur <3" and showed him the screen. Arthur looked incredibly pleased. He handed me a sleek, heavy black card and told me to swipe it on whatever I wanted. Before leaving the boutique to head back to the office, he gave Noah a set of instructions. "After she finishes shopping, drive her back to the estate." "You got it!" I chirped. Wait, hold on. "The estate?" 9 By the time we left the shopping district, Noah's arms were overflowing with luxury shopping bags. Before heading to the mansion, I asked Noah to make a quick detour to the hospital. During the ride, I awkwardly asked to borrow a little cash from him, promising to pay him back the second my first paycheck hit. It was a desperate move, but I had no choice. My grandmother was getting older, and I couldn't leave her alone to handle my mom's intensive care while I was living at Arthur's estate. I needed to hire a professional daytime nurse immediately. Medical care in New York was astronomically expensive, and my pathetic three-digit bank account was laughable. As for why I didn't just swipe Arthur's black card? I wanted to, but I'm pretty sure freelance nurses don't carry point-of-sale card readers in their scrubs. Thankfully, Noah was incredibly understanding. Without asking a single question, he wired me six thousand dollars on the spot. It was exactly enough to cover the nurse until payday. I quickly sorted out the hospital logistics. By the time we finally pulled up to the sprawling Sinclair estate, the sky was painted in brilliant shades of sunset orange. Arthur wasn't home. Noah explained that he was still tied up with meetings at the corporate headquarters. I couldn't help my curiosity. "Does he work this late every day?" Noah set the mountain of shopping bags down in the foyer and smiled faintly. "Pretty much. He usually has dinner out with clients before heading back." "But don't worry, Miss Bennett. No matter how late he works, Mr. Sinclair always comes home." That sounded a bit odd, but before I could analyze it, Noah handed me a heavy, metallic keycard. "This grants you full access to the gates and the front doors. If you don't need anything else, I'll be heading out." 10 After seeing Noah out, I gave myself a grand tour of the mansion. The interior was minimalist, breathtakingly expensive, and entirely devoid of warm colors. It matched Arthur's intimidating aura perfectly. I didn't just sit around. I got to work. Since I didn't know the specific rules of being a body double, I assumed I needed to stay in full "college crush" character until he went to sleep. I carefully applied my signature "effortless" makeup look and sat gracefully on the living room sofa, waiting for him. I figured he'd be late, but I didn't realize he'd be this late. The grandfather clock chimed midnight before I finally heard the electronic lock click open. I snapped out of my doze, looking toward the entryway with sleepy eyes. The moment Arthur saw me sitting there, pure shock flashed across his face. But he quickly masked it with calm indifference. He shrugged off his tailored suit jacket, draping it over a chair, and loosened his silk tie as he walked toward me. The sofa dipped beside me. Arthur sat down, his voice smooth. "Why are you still awake?" "I was waiting for you to come home." I brushed my messy hair out of my face, desperately fighting back a massive yawn. Arthur's fingers paused on his cufflink. "If you're tired, you don't have to wait up for me." I nodded, letting out a soft hum of agreement. Just as I was about to retreat to my assigned guest room to wash off my makeup and pass out, my stomach let out a violent, echoing growl. In the dead silence of the massive living room, it sounded like a dying whale. My traitorous stomach... Making me absolutely humiliate myself on day one of the job. My ears burned. I tried to casually stand up and sprint out of the room, pretending nothing happened. But Arthur stopped me. "I'm a little hungry myself. Care to join me?" Join him? Eating what? Five minutes later, I was sitting awkwardly at the massive marble kitchen island, staring at the back of Arthur Sinclair—billionaire CEO—as he expertly worked the stove. I tried to jump in and take over the cooking multiple times. But Arthur just waved me off. "No need. Just sit there." I obediently sat back down and waited. Who would have thought a man worth billions would have such a domestic, grounded side? He carried over two steaming bowls of artisanal noodles topped with fresh scallions. He sat down, leaving a full empty seat between us. Wasn't this distance a bit too professional? If I didn't bridge the gap, how was I going to survive my one-month probation period? Determined, I picked up my heavy ceramic bowl and boldly slid into the seat directly next to him. Arthur's chopsticks paused mid-air. He looked over at me. "What's wrong? Is the food not to your liking?" I shook my head, lowering my eyes in a display of perfect, manufactured shyness. "No, I just wanted to be a little closer to you." "Besides, hot noodles taste better when you eat them right next to someone." I blew gently on the steam, channeling my most elegant college-girl table manners as I took tiny, delicate bites. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur staring at me intently. After a long moment, he looked back down at his bowl, the faintest trace of a smile pulling at his lips. "Yes. They do."

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Lately, Joey had been piecing my life together through the casual remarks of others. When his friends jokingly congratulated him on becoming a “trophy husband”, it finally dawned on him that I had already paid the down payment on a new house entirely on my own. A group photo posted on my best friend’s Instagram was the only way he found out I had chopped off all my hair into a sharp bob. Even when I flew out to his city for a business trip, he only found out because we literally collided at the corner of a shopping mall. He furrowed his brows, asking why I hadn’t told him I was in town. His voice was thick with genuine confusion. “You used to sit through a six-hour cross-country flight just to see me for a weekend without a single complaint.” I avoided his gaze and threw out a casual excuse. “Work has been crazy lately. I barely have time to breathe.” Looking at his stunned expression, a random memory flashed through my mind. Just half a month ago, I had been perfectly willing to drop my entire career without a second thought just to make it to a date with him. 1 When I bumped into Joey at the mall, I was actually on the phone with my best friend, Brooke, making plans for dinner. “Wow, did hell freeze over?” Brooke teased through the speaker. “I thought you only ever visited Seattle to play the devoted girlfriend.” Her tone made me laugh. “I swear on my life, I am here for a week-long business trip, and I am absolutely not seeing him.” Brooke let out a dramatic gasp, clearly not believing a word. And fair enough. In the past, I had nearly quit my six-figure job just to secure a weekend off to see Joey. Right after I made that blood oath to Brooke, a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist as I rounded the corner. “You’re here again? Didn’t we just see each other two weeks ago?” I stared blankly at the person holding onto me. It took me a full two seconds to process who it was. I was usually the one who picked out all of Joey’s clothes. He always wore perfectly ironed button-downs and tailored slacks, looking every bit the reliable, professional doctor. But right now, he was wearing a cream-colored oversized hoodie. The boyish, collegiate outfit completely stripped away his usual mature aura. Joey checked his watch. When he looked back up at me, his eyes did not hold the warmth of a man seeing his long-distance girlfriend. Instead, he looked at me like I was just another patient taking up his time in the waiting room. “I have a shift at the hospital this afternoon. I don’t have time to entertain you.” “Next time you decide to fly out, give me a heads up…” I cut him off immediately. “Who said I came here to see you? You’re overthinking things. I don’t have time for you either.” Joey froze. “But you’re always the one counting down the days until we see each other.” That was the old me. The old me would have rushed out of the airport on a four-hour layover just to grab a twenty-minute coffee with him. The old me would work five days of brutal overtime to finish a project early, all to match his single day off. But now, if we hadn’t accidentally crossed paths, he never would have known I was in his city. “There is no need to throw a tantrum. Dr. Wright is incredibly busy and exhausted every single day.” The girl standing next to Joey suddenly spoke up. Her name was Sophie. “It is bad enough that you are not being understanding, but showing up unannounced like this? Now Dr. Wright is going to feel obligated to waste his precious resting time on you.” I stared at Sophie’s incredibly self-righteous expression. She was also wearing an oversized hoodie. Matched with Joey’s, it looked sickeningly like a couples outfit. Not far away, a clothing store had a massive red banner proudly advertising a “Couples 50% Off” sale. A cold smirk crept onto my face. “You don’t have time to see me, but you have plenty of time to go shopping with her?” Sophie lifted her chin slightly, her face the picture of moral superiority. “Please do not misunderstand, Sienna! Dr. Wright usually dresses far too strictly, which makes the patients nervous. I simply suggested he wear something softer, so I accompanied him to pick out a few items.” “I happened to like this hoodie too, and the store had a couples discount. I only agreed to it to save some money.” “I am not like you. You come from money and never have to look at price tags. I do not have a wealthy family backing me. I have to stretch every single dollar. You really do not need to be so insecure and suspicious.” I actually laughed out loud. “What he wears is none of your business. Are you his girlfriend or his mother?” “Saving money by using someone else’s boyfriend. You really know how to play the system, don’t you?” Sophie’s face flushed bright red. “You…” Joey tightened his grip on my hand, his tone softening as he tried to pacify me. “I didn’t make time for you, so you have every right to be angry with me. But taking it out on someone else is out of line. She was just trying to be frugal.” “How about this. I will call in a favor, take the afternoon off, and spend it with you. Okay?” Suddenly, the entire situation just felt incredibly pathetic. I yanked my hand out of his grip. “I am busy! I already told you I didn’t come here for you. Are you incapable of understanding basic English?” This time, Joey was left completely speechless. 2 This was the fourth year of our long-distance relationship. And it had been brutal. I flew from New York to Seattle every single month to see him. That was only twelve visits a year. To bridge the gap, we promised to video call every single night. Even if we were dead on our feet, we had to say goodnight before hanging up. I couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started. But gradually, Sophie’s name began dominating our nightly calls. “The new nurse assigned to me is so clumsy. She missed the vein three times during a blood draw today.” “She has a really kind heart, though. She sneaks cafeteria food out to feed the stray cats in the alley.” “I overheard the chief mentioning that she comes from a really tough background. She took out massive loans for nursing school, just like I did for med school. But she wasn’t as lucky as me. My greatest luck was meeting you in college.” I never took it seriously. I just assumed she was a quirky subordinate. Then, a month ago, Joey told me he had an out-of-state medical conference and wouldn’t be able to do our goodnight calls. It wasn’t until a mutual friend from his hospital called me to say Joey had been admitted for a severe stomach ulcer that I found out the truth. His “medical conference” was in my city. New York. He wasn’t planning a romantic surprise. He genuinely just hadn’t planned on telling me he was in town. “I was just too busy, and it slipped my mind. I was only going to be there for two days anyway. There was no point in making a huge fuss and dragging you out.” To him, seeing me had become a chore. A burden. While I was standing in his hospital room processing that, the thermos of hot soup in my hands was suddenly shoved aside. A woman in scrubs aggressively popped the lid off her own insulated container and glared at me. “Dr. Wright was admitted for a severe stomach ulcer! He cannot eat heavy, greasy food!” She fluttered around his bed, adjusting his pillows and pouring his water. She looked exactly like the lady of the house. She threw the apple I had carefully peeled for him straight into the trash, claiming I hadn’t washed my hands using the proper clinical seven-step method, so it was contaminated. When I stared at his IV drip rate, she scoffed, telling me I was a clueless outsider and ordering me to stay out of the way. I stepped out to use the restroom for exactly three minutes. When I came back, the two of them were laughing together, completely immersed in their own world. Knowing I had absolutely no interest in the medical field, Joey cleared his throat and offered a weak explanation. “We were just talking about work.” But Sophie just had to add her own little jab. “Even if we explained it to you, you wouldn’t understand a word.” A ball of fire twisted in my gut. I looked straight at Joey. “Since when do you hire nurses with this kind of attitude? Fire her.” Sophie froze, then puffed out her chest. “I am a registered nurse with a degree from a proper medical program. I am not some cheap caretaker you can just dismiss!” That was when I realized this was Sophie. Clearly, she had crossed the line. And Joey had completely enabled her. Infidelity and emotional wandering are the oldest clichés in long-distance relationships. I used to arrogantly believe we were the exception. I thought we were immune to a bad ending. If I had been harboring any foolish hopes before, pretending I was just being overly sensitive, the whole “fake couples hoodie” incident completely shattered that illusion. … I bought Brooke a gift at the mall and picked up the custom-tailored suit I had ordered weeks ago. After a quick lunch with Brooke, I dove straight back into my work. Between working endless overtime and getting caught in a freezing Seattle downpour, I ended up with a raging fever and landed myself right back in the hospital. Talk about terrible luck. The nurse assigned to draw my blood was Sophie. She tied the tourniquet around my arm with entirely too much force. She jabbed the needle in three separate times, failing to find the vein every single time. Horrific, dark purple bruises bloomed across my pale skin. I lost my patience. “I want a different nurse.” Sophie didn’t look remorseful in the slightest. Her tone was completely justified. “You do not own this hospital. Medical resources are strictly limited, and there are other patients waiting. Please stop wasting my time.” I laughed out of sheer anger. “Your technique is garbage. I have every right to request a competent nurse.” Sophie lifted her chin, her face a mask of pure stubbornness. “Please do not insult my professional abilities. You kept squirming. Of course I couldn’t get the needle in.” I didn’t waste another breath on her. I simply pressed the call button for the attending doctor. The person who rushed through the door was Joey. 3 “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?” The color completely drained from Joey’s face the second he saw me. He practically sprinted to my bedside. His fingers gently supported my bruised arm, his voice thick with undeniable heartache. “How did it get this bad? Why didn’t you call me?” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Your nurse has absolutely no idea what she’s doing, and then she blames the patient for her own incompetence. Is this the standard of care at your hospital? Tell her to expect a formal complaint.” Sophie’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She bit her lip hard. “Sienna, I know you despise me. You are a wealthy, privileged girl. You could never possibly understand my struggles.” “The hospital is voting for the ‘Nurse of the Year’ award right now, and this is incredibly important to me. I am entirely alone in this city. I have no one to rely on. I have to earn every single penny with my own blood and sweat. Every path I take, I have to carve out myself…” I cut her off, thoroughly exhausted. “What does any of your sob story have to do with me?” Joey instructed another nurse to bring an ice pack and some warm towels. He carefully began treating my bruised arm. But the words coming out of his mouth chilled me straight to the bone. “The bruising looks worse than it is. It will fade in a week, and it definitely won’t scar.” “Her technique is actually perfectly fine. She was probably just nervous today. If you file a formal complaint, all her hard work for the year will be completely ruined.” “It really isn’t easy for a young girl to survive alone in a big city. Just let this go. Be good for me.” Sophie reached up and wiped away a tear. She tilted her chin up slightly, looking exactly like a martyr who had finally received divine justice. In the past, if I got a tiny papercut, Joey would hover over me in distress for half an hour. He would meticulously apply a bandage while cursing the paper for being too sharp. But now, he was pouring all his empathy onto the person who had actually hurt me. I curled my fingers into tight fists. My chest felt like it was packed with wet cement, but my voice came out ice-cold. “Call your department head. I am filing a formal complaint against both of you.” Sophie’s face hardened with righteous fury. “I take full responsibility for my own actions. Do not drag Dr. Wright into this! Even if you are his girlfriend, you have no right to bully people like this!” She threw her hands up dramatically. Her arm caught the open bottle of iodine on the medical cart. The dark brown liquid splashed directly onto the eight-thousand-dollar custom suit resting on the edge of the bed. Silence blanketed the messy room. I looked at the ruined fabric and spoke slowly. “That was my outfit for a major client meeting. You just destroyed it.” Sophie froze for a split second before stiffening her neck defiantly. “If you hadn’t been intentionally making things difficult for me and Dr. Wright, I never would have panicked and knocked it over. When you really think about it, this is your own fault.” I calmly picked up my phone. “You can explain that logic to the police.” “Wait!” Sophie looked away, her tone dripping with a bizarre, condescending kind of forgiveness. “At the end of the day, you are the one in the wrong, and you know it. But you are using my livelihood to threaten me. I do not have your money or your power, so I have to swallow this injustice.” “It is just a piece of clothing. I will pay you back. How much is it?” I leaned back against the pillows, watching her with a perfectly calm expression. I enunciated every single syllable. “Eight thousand dollars.” Sophie’s righteous indignation shattered instantly. Total panic washed over her features, her voice pitching into a shrill shriek. “That is impossible!” “How could a piece of fabric cost that much! Who are you trying to scam!” “You rich people are all exactly the same. You just use your money to crush normal people…” I cut her off smoothly. “Are you paying, or am I calling the cops?” 4 Sophie ran out of the room sobbing hysterically. Joey didn’t chase after her. He just stood there, looking at me like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I ignored him entirely. I got out of bed, walked straight to the nursing station, and officially filed my complaint. That evening, Joey insisted on taking me out to dinner. He fell back into his usual routine, asking about my life in his gentle, soothing voice. “How have you been lately?” “Fine.” “What have you been busy with?” “Just work.” Joey paused, a forced smile touching his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you cut your hair? If I hadn’t seen Brooke’s post, I would have had no idea.” “And you don’t even text me first anymore. We haven’t done our goodnight calls in weeks.” “I’ve been busy. I don’t have the time.” Three short sentences, and the conversation was completely dead. During our old visits, I always had an endless supply of things to tell him. From how much I despised the new director at my company, to a cute stray cat I saw on the sidewalk. I would take the most trivial, mundane details of my life and spin them into hour-long stories. I used to wish I could pour a whole month’s worth of unspoken words into his lap the second I saw him. Now, I just stared at my plate and ate in silence. Four years of a long-distance relationship. We went from messaging each other the second we opened our eyes, to barely speaking ten sentences a month. We went from telling each other everything first, to him being the absolute last to know. We went from endless late-night talks, to having absolutely nothing left to say. And it had only taken half a month to unravel. Joey sat in silence for a long time before reaching across the table to grab my hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so obsessed with working hard so we can finally end the distance, I completely neglected your feelings.” My parents had always been strictly against me moving across the country for a man. Because of that, Joey had sworn to buy a house and settle down in New York. His own parents were absolutely furious with the decision and completely cut off all financial support. Joey squeezed my fingers. “I’ve been looking into a few high-end private medical centers in New York. A couple of them have already invited me for final interviews. Once my job is secured, we can start house hunting. Which means…” He tried to keep his tone casual, but the excitement in his voice spiked. “We won’t have to be long-distance anymore!” I froze. This was the exact future I had dreamed about for years. But now that it was practically sitting in the palm of my hand, it felt like we were standing on completely different planets. “Didn’t you want to get a cat? When we buy a place, we can install a massive cat tree on the balcony wall, and set up a little hammock by the window so they can sunbathe.” “Speaking of cats…” He paused, as if a completely natural thought had just occurred to him. His tone shifted effortlessly. “Sophie really loves cats too. She always sneaks out back to feed the strays behind the clinic. She really is a good person. She just lacks a filter sometimes.” “Eight thousand dollars might just be a jacket to you, but to her, that’s almost a year’s worth of living expenses. She isn’t like you. She doesn’t have a safety net. She hasn’t even finished paying off her nursing school loans. By the time she pays rent, she barely has enough left to eat.” “I know you really dislike her, but she’s had a remarkably hard life. I had to claw my way up from the bottom too, so I understand exactly where she’s coming from.” Word after word. It was all about Sophie. I never imagined the day would come when the man I loved couldn’t speak three sentences without bringing up another woman. I put down my fork. “You know I despise her, yet you keep bringing her up. What exactly is your endgame here?” Joey pressed his lips together in a helpless, indulgent smile. “You’ve always had a bit of a temper. I spoiled you, and I gladly take the brunt of it. That is my job as your boyfriend. But you can’t aim that temper at innocent bystanders, right?” “Drop the formal complaint. She’ll get the suit professionally dry-cleaned and return it to you. Then, you can just offer her a quick apology.” Every single time he defended her, he chipped away another piece of my love for him. So when I heard those words, I didn’t feel heartbroken. I only felt a cold, lingering anger. I looked at him calmly. “She made a massive professional error. I have absolutely no obligation to tolerate it.” “I only asked her to pay for the suit. I didn’t demand compensation for my ruined client meeting or my emotional distress. That is already me being incredibly generous.” “Besides, what does her ‘hard life’ have to do with me? Does having a tough background suddenly act as a get-out-of-jail-free card for ruining things? If a surgeon accidentally kills a patient, can they just say ‘my life is hard’ and walk away?” Joey stared at me, completely stunned. It was as if I had morphed into a stranger right in front of his eyes. Unforgiving. Aggressive. Maybe the old me would have backed down to save his pride. I wouldn’t have wanted an outsider to create a rift between us. But the man sitting across from me right now. To me, he was just an outsider too. I locked eyes with Joey and spoke with razor-sharp clarity. “The complaint and the demand for compensation are staying exactly where they are.” “Also. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

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When I went into the bathroom to hand Silas his soap, he was right in the middle of his shower. My gaze swept over his wet skin, and I thought to myself: Damn, it’s actually pink. Silas froze. The very next second, a heavy bar of soap came flying at my head, nearly knocking me out cold. 1 Silas came home late that evening. I waited by the door, a picture-perfect smile on my face, and signed: Welcome home, darling. Silas didn’t even spare me a glance. He walked right past me like I was made of glass. I glared at his broad back and cursed him in my head: Are you blind? Can’t you see your own wife standing right here? Suddenly, Silas stumbled. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me. I instantly dropped my glare, flashed a sweet smile, and signed: Is something wrong? His eyes darkened. He looked me up and down before muttering, “Nothing.” 2 My name is Harper Bennett, the second daughter of the Bennett family. Because I was born mute, I was the invisible child, the one completely ignored by my own parents. Two months ago, the Sinclair family proposed a marriage alliance with us. My dad originally wanted to marry off my older sister, Serena. Serena had even put on a shy, blushing act, eagerly expressing her deep affection for the Sinclair heir. But to everyone’s absolute shock, Silas pointed a finger straight at the dark corner where I was hiding and said with a straight face, “I want to marry her.” I didn’t even process what was happening. When I finally turned my head, I caught Serena staring at me with pure, venomous hatred. 3 We slept in separate bedrooms on our wedding night, but I desperately wanted to cross that line. At one in the morning, I snuck into Silas’s room. Turns out, the man wasn’t asleep at all. In the pitch black, his voice came out low and vicious, “Get out.” I jumped out of my skin and nearly collapsed onto the expensive rug. Silas flipped on the bedside lamp. Under the dim, warm light, his sharp, incredibly handsome features were half-hidden in the shadows. I pointed at my own chest, playing dumb: Me? Silas understood my sign language perfectly. He fired back, “Who else is in here?” I stood up straight, squared my shoulders, and signed boldly: I want to sleep with you. “…” Silas got out of bed, his massive hand suddenly shooting out to pinch my cheeks. I froze, completely terrified to move. His voice was ice-cold as it brushed against my ear: “I only married you because you’re quiet. There is no other reason. Know your place, and don’t ever pull a stunt like this again.” 4 My outward reaction: Oh no, I’m so scared. My inner monologue: Hehe, totally doing that again. Silas had completely misjudged me. The “quiet and docile” personality was just an act. Deep down, I was a walking menace with a rebellious streak a mile wide. The more he told me no, the more I wanted to push his buttons. We were legally married. What the hell did “knowing my place” even mean? Still, I knew I couldn’t push my luck too fast. I had to practice my moves in my head first. A week ago, I was daydreaming about him as usual, totally lost in my own spicy little fantasy. I didn’t expect Silas to walk right past me at that exact moment. Panic flared in my chest. I pretended to trip, sending my head crashing straight into his rock-hard chest. The impact practically knocked my soul out of my body. Silas grabbed my arms to steady me. “Careful.” 5 It was right around that time that I noticed Silas acting weird. He became incredibly irritable and would glare at me for absolutely no reason. And I swear I hadn’t done anything wrong. For example, when we were eating breakfast together. I took a sneaky peek at him: Those shirt buttons are fighting for their lives. A man’s chest is truly his best dowry. Silas’s eyelid twitched violently. “Stop eating breakfast with me from now on.” Or, another time, when I was helping him get dressed: Wow, what a waist. Wonder how long he can actually last? Two seconds max? Silas’s entire body went rigid. He violently shoved his arms back into his jacket. “Never come into my walk-in closet again.” …What a diva. Like I actually want to serve you anyway. I kept a gentle, innocent expression on my face and signed: I understand. I turned around to leave, but Silas grabbed my shoulder and pinned me against the wall. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye. My reflection stared back at me in his deep, narrow eyes. “Harper.” He said my name. “Even though we are husband and wife, you need to learn some boundaries.” I blinked slowly, giving him my best doe-eyed look. But inside, I was screaming: Oh, I definitely want to measure your boundaries. “You…” He trailed off, snapping his mouth shut. He released me and turned his back. “Forget it. Just get out.” 6 Tonight, Silas went straight to the shower right after coming home. Determined to end my dry spell, I had already laid out all his usual toiletries. Halfway through his shower, he realized his soap was missing. I was already standing guard by the door, ready for action. Inside the bathroom, hot steam rolled through the air like a sauna. And standing right there was a man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Droplets of water slid down his pale, muscular chest. Further down were eight perfectly sculpted abs. Silas reached out a hand, his voice raspy. “Give it to me.” Thrilled, I quickly grabbed his hand instead. His large palm was incredibly warm, the wet heat making my mouth go instantly dry. He gripped my hand back, his thumb slowly sliding up my wrist. I gulped hard: It’s happening! It’s finally happening! Wreck me! Destroy me! I am ready! I’ll be superwoman tonight! Then Silas’s voice floated down from above. “Give me the soap.” Son of a bitch. I slapped the bar of soap into his palm. Silas immediately tried to kick me out. “Leave.” But I didn’t move an inch. I literally couldn’t take my eyes off his flawless skin. I stared right at him, openly checking him out: He’s so pale. I bet it’s pink. Yep, definitely pink. Not bad. Not bad at all. I completely missed the dark, murderous aura radiating from him. I kept fantasizing: First we’ll do it like this, then like that, and then… Silas scowled. He shifted slightly to cover himself and snapped: “Are you leaving or not?” My brain short-circuited. I pointed directly at his crotch and signed: Could you swing it around for me to see? Silas completely lost his mind. Furious, he hurled the soap right at my head: “Get out!” 7 Thank God for my quick reflexes, or that bar of soap would have been the end of me. Because of that little comment, Silas avoided me like the plague for days. This awkward tension dragged on until Bella Roth’s lavish birthday gala. I walked into the ballroom with my arm linked through Silas’s. He instantly commanded the room, getting swarmed by businessmen and socialites. I was casually shoved to the sidelines. Someone accidentally bumped their glass, spilling red wine all over my designer dress. A huge, dark stain bloomed across the fabric. No one apologized. I was so used to being treated like invisible trash that I barely even blinked. I headed to the restroom alone to try and scrub the stain out. Bella Roth, the birthday girl, was already in there. Dressed in a blood-red gown, she glared at me with a vicious look that reminded me of a ghost from a cheap horror movie. My stomach dropped. Four or five girls caked in heavy makeup blocked the exit behind me. Someone shoved me hard in the back. Bella walked toward me with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Harper, how have you been?” “Does Mr. Sinclair actually like you?” None of your damn business. I turned to leave. Bella grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and slapped me hard across the face. “You mute bitch, you think you can ignore me?” She grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed me backward into a stall door. My ears rang violently, and my cheek burned like fire. Bella leaned in close, whispering venomously: “Don’t think playing the pathetic victim will win his heart. He doesn’t love you.” “He only married you to put on a show.” I parted my lips and mouthed the words slowly: Dumb. Ass. “What did you just say?” Bella turned to her minions. “Shove her in there!” The girls swarmed me, dragging me into a toilet stall and slamming the door shut. A second later, a bucket of freezing water rained down on me from over the partition. I was soaked to the bone, the water smelling faintly of sewage. Shrill laughter echoed off the tiles. “Harper, just beg for mercy and we’ll let you out.” “How is a mute supposed to beg?” “She can get on her knees!” “Hahaha!” The laughter outside grew louder. 8 I didn’t have my phone on me. I had to get myself out of this mess. Fine. Game on. I calmly wiped the filthy water from my eyes, hiked up my ruined dress, stepped onto the toilet tank, hoisted myself over the partition, and dropped down into the empty stall next door. I had always wondered what it would be like to use a mop dipped in toilet water. Thanks for giving me the perfect opportunity, ladies. I grabbed the dirty mop from the corner, soaked it straight into the toilet bowl, and swung it with everything I had. Honestly, even the Pope wasn’t this generous with holy water. I baptized every single one of them. The girls shrieked, their faces pale with horror as they scrambled away. “Help! That’s so gross!” “Somebody stop her!” “Harper, are you insane?!” I smirked: No shit, Sherlock. You have to be crazy to deal with bitches like you. 9 After the gala ended, Bella tried to play the victim. She ran crying to Silas, claiming I attacked her with a filthy mop. “Mr. Sinclair, Harper just lost her mind and started hitting us!” She held out her stained red dress. “Look at what she did to my clothes…” I stared at her terrible acting and rolled my eyes: Keep going. Keep crying. It’s a crime you don’t have an Oscar yet. Bella wiped away fake tears, playing the poor, innocent girl to perfection. Before she could even finish her sob story, Silas walked right past her. He took off his custom suit jacket and draped it gently over my shivering shoulders. He turned to Bella, his voice lethal. “What exactly did you say to provoke her?” Bella froze. “…What?” Silas wrapped an arm around my waist, his tone absolute. “Harper is quiet and incredibly level-headed. You must have said something completely out of line, otherwise she would never act like that.” “And look at her face. Are you trying to tell me she hit herself?” “Apologize to her.” Seeing Silas defend me so fiercely, Bella realized she had lost. Through gritted teeth, she muttered: “I’m. Sorry. Harper.” 10 I never expected Silas to stand up for me like that. After Bella stormed off, I looked up at him with a soft smile and signed: Thank you. Meanwhile, my mind was going wild: God, I just want to pin you to a bed and thank you properly. Silas: “…” He reached out, his hand hovering over my cheek. Clearly afraid of hurting me, his fingers simply rested near my bruised skin for a second. “Does it hurt?” I was fine a second ago, but the moment he asked, a huge wave of unfairness washed over me. I bit my lip hard, fighting back tears: Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt at all. It’s not like I haven’t been hit before. Pain go away, pain go away. I shook my head and signed: I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt. Silas gently smoothed my wet hair. “Let’s go home.” It was the first time he had ever been that gentle with me. 11 That bucket of dirty water successfully gave me a fever. But my mind was still sharp. I was lying in bed, bored out of my mind, when Silas walked into my room. He pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. “Still burning up.” I gave him a seductive smile. Get in bed with me, and I’ll be even hotter. Silas’s expression instantly morphed into something indescribable. He stood up. Just as I thought he was going to walk out, he pulled back the covers and gently lay down right next to me. Me: “???” Pure survival instinct kicked in. I scrambled to the far edge of the mattress, creating distance between us. Seeing me run away, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “What are you hiding from?” I nervously signed: What are you doing? He didn’t answer. He just reached out, yanked me right back into the middle of the bed, and tucked the blankets tightly around me, like he was afraid I’d bolt again. He ordered, “Close your eyes. Sleep.” I obediently shut my eyes, but my mind was racing: What does this mean? Is he trying to test-drive a girl with a 102-degree fever? I’m totally going to die of a heart attack. As much as I wanted to sleep with him, now that it was actually happening, I was terrified. … The room was completely silent. I cracked one eye open just a sliver and saw Silas resting with his eyes closed. The morning light hit his face, making his sharp features look clean and relaxed. Just as I was staring at him in a daze, Silas suddenly opened his eyes. “Just go to sleep. I’m not going to do anything.” I let out a huge breath of relief and nodded like a good girl: Oh, so we’re literally just sleeping. Good thing he’s not a total animal. Silas tightened his arm around my waist. Feeling safe, I finally drifted off to sleep. 12 Sometime in the middle of the night, my fever broke, leaving me drenched in cold sweat. The sticky, uncomfortable feeling made me pull off my pajama top in my sleep. I rolled over and crashed right into a warm chest. That firm, smooth feeling… Whoa. Abs. I splayed both hands out and squeezed hard. A second later, I heard Silas mutter in his sleep, “Be gentle…” Holy shit! My eyes flew open. I bolted upright in panic. Silas flinched, waking up instantly. His arm automatically reached for my back. His voice was thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?” I was sitting there in absolutely nothing but my underwear, violently shivering. Internally, I was shrieking: Ahhhhhh! Silas hastily turned on the lamp to check on me. I pushed him away, desperately wrapping the thick duvet around my body. Silas leaned in close. “What happened? Does something hurt?” I shook my head frantically, scooting further back against the headboard. I pointed frantically at the door, telling him to leave. Go! Get out! Just go! Silas stared at me. A cold smirk pulled at his lips. “You’re kicking me out?” “Where’s all that courage you had when you told me to swing it?” Tch… Looking all pink and cute, but holding onto a grudge like a psycho. My face was burning up, my head spinning. I had no choice but to play the pity card. I put on my most fragile, helpless expression and signed: I’m really sick right now. It would be terrible if you caught my bug. You should probably sleep in your own room. Silas stared at me in dead silence. Why isn’t he reacting? Did he not understand my signs? I slowly, deliberately signed it a second time. “I understood you perfectly,” he said. Silas got out of bed and walked out the door. “I’m leaving, okay?” Me: “?” Why did he sound so incredibly offended? 13 My parents heard I was sick and made a special trip to the Sinclair estate to “visit.” After three minutes of fake pleasantries, they got right down to business: my marriage. My mom grabbed my hand, putting on her most serious, motherly voice. “Harper, are things okay between you and Mr. Sinclair?” “If you two aren’t happy, it’s better to just get a divorce sooner rather than later.” My dad nodded vigorously in agreement. “Exactly, exactly.” “Your sister has always loved Mr. Sinclair. She’s far more suited for a position like this.” “Just come home. Stop embarrassing him.” These two were tag-teaming me, practically begging me to divorce my own husband. Hmph. I knew they didn’t actually care about my health. I shook my head firmly and signed my rejection: I don’t want a divorce. I hadn’t even slept with the man yet. Why the hell would I divorce him now? Seeing me refuse, their masks immediately slipped. My dad pointed a finger right in my face and started yelling: “You don’t want to?” “You don’t get a say in this marriage!” “If Mr. Sinclair didn’t have a thing for quiet girls, do you really think a mute like you would be living like this?!” I held my ground: I’m not signing anything. My dad gritted his teeth. “You little…!” Realizing they couldn’t bully me into it, they marched straight up to the study to talk to Silas. I crept down the hallway and pressed my ear to the heavy oak door. Inside, Silas stayed quiet for a very long time, making my anxiety spike. He didn’t exactly like me. What if he really wanted out? Especially considering how often I sexually harassed him. A minute later, Silas’s voice finally cut through the tension. He spoke calmly, firmly. “Harper and I are very happy together. Divorce is completely off the table.” 14 His answer left me stunned. Happy? Who was happy? Did Silas actually enjoy me constantly bothering him? My parents were still desperately trying to change his mind: “Mr. Sinclair, please. Our youngest can’t even speak. It damages your public image.” “And she’s a troublemaker. We heard she offended the Roth family just the other day.” “I’m sure she herself feels unworthy of you.” “And besides…” I didn’t stick around to listen to the rest. I went back to my bedroom to wait for the fallout. About half an hour later, Silas practically kicked my bedroom door open. His first words were: “Harper Bennett, you want a divorce?” Huh? Why is he so pissed? Seeing him so worked up was fascinating. On a whim, I decided to mess with him: Since you don’t really like me, I don’t want to hold you back. Let’s just part ways peacefully. Internally, I was totally chill about it: If we divorce, we divorce. If I can’t eat this piece of meat, I’ll just find another restaurant. Silas glared at me in silence for a solid minute before gritting out: “You were desperate to get into my bed. You tried every trick in the book to get close to me, and now you’re bored already?” Yep. I’m just a fickle girl who likes shiny new things. I forced a single, dramatic tear to roll down my cheek and signed: I’m sorry. Silas let out a dark, mocking laugh. “Perfect.” He turned on his heel and stormed out. “Just you wait!”

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The moment Tessa laid eyes on me at the Vanguard Corp. interview, she completely fell apart. It all started with the concert I’d been dreaming of for months. The night tickets went on sale, I pulled an all-nighter, but my frantic clicking was for nothing. They sold out in seconds. Gritting my teeth, I ended up forking over an extra four hundred dollars to a scalper for a floor seat. The next morning, I was jolted awake by the grim look on my roommate Tessa’s face. She was standing over my bed, her voice a low hiss. “Are you insane? Spending nine hundred dollars on a concert ticket?” I tried to explain patiently that my parents were fine with it, that it was my allowance to spend on things that made me happy. But her voice shot up, accusing me of being spoiled and thoughtless. She even threw out a sleazy warning about “girls who’d do anything for a designer bag,” telling me I needed to remember my “self-worth.” The night before the concert, my phone buzzed with a notification: Ticket refund successful. A moment later, an email from my academic advisor landed in my inbox. The attached grade report showed that I, who had always been at the top of my class, had failed several core subjects. Frantic, I ran to find Tessa, who was our department’s student representative. She just smirked at me. “Aren’t you just here for a good time, Sophie? What’s the rush?” Then, with a voice dripping in acid, she added, “Funny how the ones who act so innocent are always the ones with the most dirt.” Now, watching her stand here before me, utterly flustered and lost, the irony is almost too much to bear. 1 After finals wrapped up, I spent the entire night trying to snag a ticket for the concert I’d been waiting for all year. They were gone in a flash. Just as I was about to give up, a post popped up on social media—a friend of a friend was selling a floor ticket. The last one. My parents had just dropped fifty grand into my account for “expenses,” so I didn’t hesitate. I immediately offered four hundred dollars over the asking price and secured it. The next morning, I was still half-asleep when I felt a pair of eyes burning into me. I cracked mine open to see my roommate, Tessa, leaning deep into my curtained-off bunk, staring at me with an unnerving intensity. I jolted upright. “Tessa? What are you doing?” A chill crawled up my spine. “You didn’t go to sleep until 4:35 a.m., Sophie,” she said, her voice low and accusatory. “What were you doing up to, being all sneaky?” My bed curtains were drawn. How could she possibly know the exact time I fell asleep? Her dark, hollow gaze made my skin crawl. “Oh, uh, I was trying to get concert tickets,” I mumbled, trying to brush it off. “The show is next month. Can you move? I need to get up.” I gestured for her to get off my bed, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard me. Instead, she plopped right down on the edge of my mattress, her expression a strange mix of pity and amusement. She patted my shoulder. “Don’t play dumb. You stayed up all night for a concert ticket? Seriously, there’s nothing special about them. You can listen to any song you want online for free. It’s a total waste of money.” She wasn’t done. “Besides, it’s not easy to earn money these days. You really want to be one of those suckers throwing cash at celebrities? That’s your parents’ hard-earned money you’re burning!” I fought down a wave of irritation and climbed out the other side of the bed. “Tessa, you don’t need to worry about it. Finals are over, and I’m ready to relax. It’s not that expensive, and the experience is worth it to me.” I added, “And my parents are going with me. They love concerts too.” That seemed to set her off. “Not that expensive? I never took you for such a materialistic person! Your parents might spoil you now, but the real world won’t be so kind!” I almost laughed. Did this girl have any concept of boundaries? “Nine hundred bucks for one show? What a waste. Whoever marries you is in for a world of trouble.” She spat out the exact number, down to the dollar. My other roommates glanced over, their eyes wide. “Whoa, that’s a lot, Sophie. You sure you didn’t get ripped off?” one of them asked. How did she know the exact amount I paid on my own phone? I took a deep breath, about to explain I got it from a trusted source, when Tessa let out a cold snort. “Oh, a few hundred dollars is nothing to Sophie. She has her ways of getting money from men.” That was it. I’d had enough. I shoved her off my bed. “What did you just say, Tessa? It’s my money, what does it have to do with you? Don’t push your luck!” Tessa was not only our student rep but also a micro-influencer with a decent following. She was used to being the one in charge, the one nobody talked back to. My public defiance made her face flush a deep, blotchy red. “Whatever. There’s no talking to people like you,” she huffed, turning away. “I was just trying to be nice. Why do you have to pretend to be such a goody-two-shoes all the time?” I ignored her and headed to the cafeteria. But when I got back to the dorm, I found her hunched over my bed, her hand darting around under my pillow. She was so focused she didn’t hear me come in. “What are you doing?” I demanded. 2 Tessa yelped, startled. She quickly snatched her hand back, hiding whatever she was holding. “God, Sophie, can’t you walk like a normal person?” she snapped, her voice shaking. She was the one doing something shady, but somehow, I was the one in the wrong? My brows knitted together. “What were you looking for in my bed? You can’t just go through my things without my permission.” Tessa rolled her eyes, her face a mask of annoyance. “Do you have a persecution complex or something? You think you’re so special? Nobody wants to touch your stupid stuff!” With that, she stormed out of the room. That afternoon, during our department meeting, Tessa leaned against the whiteboard, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me. “Lately, there have been a lot of stories online about college girls selling their bodies to feed their vanity,” she announced to the room, her voice dripping with meaning. “We should all learn from their mistakes and uphold our integrity.” She tilted her chin in my direction. “Right, Sophie?” A few of the guys in the class snickered, their laughter grating on my nerves. I saw a couple of them looking me up and down with smug, knowing smiles. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to explode. “Who are you trying to call out, Tessa?” I said through gritted teeth. “Show some respect.” She pretended not to hear me. “You all probably don’t know this, but Sophie spent nine hundred dollars on a single concert ticket. Her skincare products cost thousands, all imported. Even her underwear is designer, costing hundreds!” Oh my god, this woman had absolutely no shame. A hot, uncontrollable rage surged through me. I kicked back my chair and shot to my feet. “What is wrong with you? Who talks about their roommate’s private life in front of the entire class? If you can’t control that mouth of yours, I swear I’ll shut it for you!” Tessa just smirked, her voice rising with excitement. “As student representative, I propose that her academic scholarship be revoked and the money divided among the students on financial aid! Sophie can clearly afford it; that three-thousand-dollar scholarship is less than what she spends on a concert ticket!” She paused for dramatic effect. “But for students like us, that money means more hot meals. It means less of a burden on our families!” Tessa was on financial aid. In fact, her entire influencer persona was built around being a poor, hardworking student who was pulling herself up by her bootstraps. Her sob story had gained her a lot of sympathy online. As soon as she finished, a murmur of agreement spread through the classroom. Divide my scholarship? Without even asking me? I was furious. I grabbed the nearest textbook and hurled it at her. “Are you deaf? I earned that scholarship with my grades! It has nothing to do with you. What gives you the right to give it away?” I then turned to the rest of the class. “And don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me! There are programs for students who need financial assistance. If you want money, earn it with your own merit!” After my outburst, I stormed out of the room, leaving Tessa fuming and stomping her foot behind me. As I crossed the main campus quad, I saw a large poster for Vanguard Corp.’s on-campus recruitment drive. The anger I’d just started to let go of came roaring back. I had been the one to convince Alexander Knight to hold a trial recruitment event at our university, begging and pleading with him to give my classmates a chance at a top-tier company. And this was the thanks I got. Fine. If they were going to be like that, I didn’t need to waste my energy. I pulled out my phone and dialed Alex’s number. His assistant, Mark, picked up. When I told him to cancel the campus recruitment drive, he agreed without hesitation. “Honestly, Mrs. Knight, the candidate pool wasn’t quite aligned with the corporation’s needs anyway. It’s better to cancel before we officially begin. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” “Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Knight,” he added, “Mr. Knight knows you’re going to the concert. He had a dress custom-made for you. I’ll have it delivered later today.” “Thanks, Mark. Tell Alex to call me when he’s free.” Hanging up, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. No more trying to do good deeds for ungrateful people. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. I glanced down and saw a notification that made my stomach drop. [Dear Ms. Reed, your ticket refund has been processed successfully!] What the hell? I’d stayed up all night for that ticket. There was no way I would have refunded it. I was about to call the ticketing agency when a message from our academic advisor popped up in the group chat. It was a picture of the final rankings for the semester. My eyes scanned the list, and my heart stopped. I, who had never placed below first in my entire college career, was now at the bottom of the list. 3 I rushed to my advisor’s office, certain there had been a mistake with the system. My academic record had been flawless since my freshman year. I’d even felt I performed better than usual on these finals. How could my rank have plummeted so drastically? The moment I stepped into her office, I noticed the strange way my advisor was looking at me. There was a hint of disdain in her eyes. It was unsettling, but I was determined to sort this out. After carefully reviewing the grade sheet, I knew something was wrong. “Professor, these scores can’t be right,” I said, pointing to the paper. “How did I get a 49 in English? I have the highest proficiency score in our entire class.” My advisor, who was usually warm and supportive, was uncharacteristically cold. “Don’t you ever have an off day, Sophie? When something goes wrong, you should look for the cause within yourself, not immediately blame the system or your teachers.” Her tone sharpened. “And about that letter of recommendation for your study abroad application… I can’t write it for you anymore. Sophie, I have to say, a young woman needs to have some self-respect.” Her words left me completely bewildered. What did she mean, no self-respect? Connecting her strange attitude with Tessa’s recent hostility, a sickening suspicion began to form in my mind. I found Tessa and confronted her. “What did you do?” Tessa simply arched an eyebrow. “I submitted lower scores for you. So what? As the student rep, I have the authority. I was just ensuring a level playing field for everyone else.” Her voice was laced with a chilling self-righteousness. “The interview spot at Vanguard Corp. should go to someone who truly has the skills, not some gold-digging tramp like you!” So that was it. The internship. Tessa must have heard some rumor that the top-ranked student in our department would automatically get an interview with Vanguard. Too bad for her, she’d based her entire scheme on a lie. Tessa knew I was in the middle of applying to graduate programs abroad, that every single grade was crucial for my application. Yet she’d abused her position to knock me out of the running, all for the sake of some twisted idea of “fairness.” “I told the advisor everything,” she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “About your messy private life, how you stay up every night sexting with some guy. All those designer clothes you wear… they’re from your sugar daddy, aren’t they? If I were your parents, I’d die of shame.” Her words were getting more and more vicious. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had been patient for days, but I was done being a doormat. I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. “Are you sick in the head?” I seethed. “You spend all your time in the dorm spying on me. Are you that pathetic? The man I’m talking to every night is my husband, you psycho. So keep your filthy mouth shut!” Tessa clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “Don’t give me that crap! That guy sends you thousands of dollars at a time. If that’s not being a sugar baby, what is?” I almost laughed. The playful little money transfers Alex and I sent each other were, in her twisted mind, evidence of me being a kept woman.

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My relationship with Ryan Maxwell had been a secret for eight years. Today, April Fool’s Day, a popular streamer and host, Sierra Thorne, publicly tagged Ryan online, posting a photo of them holding hands. Her caption claimed he was hers, both in-game and out. The internet exploded. This “girl-chases-boy” pairing instantly topped the trending charts, with fans showering them with blessings. I immediately called Ryan, but he casually dismissed it, saying it was just Sierra’s April Fool’s joke for her fans, and she’d delete it tomorrow. Then, I heard Sierra’s voice in the background, laced with mockery, saying I was being a sore loser, taking an April Fool’s joke seriously. The surrounding chatter blurred. I stared at the new jungle pathing analysis I’d just finished writing on my desk, and suddenly, the past eight years of my dedication felt utterly meaningless. I tore up the analysis paper. Calmly, I told Ryan to go public with their relationship; there was no need to delete the post. 1 Silence hung on the other end for a moment. Then, I heard the voices of Ryan’s teammates: “Seriously? Max, your girlfriend is such a drama queen.” “You have me on speaker?” I realized. Everyone had heard what I said. “Yeah. Everyone was having a good time until your call ruined it.” Ryan’s voice held a hint of annoyance. “I’ll talk to you properly when I get home tonight. Can you please stop making such a big deal out of it? Sierra was just kidding.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said faintly, “Whatever. We’re done.” Then, I hung up, rubbing my aching stomach. Ever since he won the world championship last year, Sierra had been openly pursuing him. He’d gone from actively avoiding her and even refusing her interviews to openly flirting and bantering with her on camera. Everyone called them the sweetest open secret in esports. Every boundary-crossing act, he’d dismissed as “just a joke.” On April Fool’s Day, he even went along with an “official announcement” joke. I, his real girlfriend, who had been with him for eight years, from his unknown days in the academy team to reaching the pinnacle of the world stage and winning the World Championship – a girlfriend he had never once mentioned on stage – felt like the real joke. He wouldn’t have even ranked first in the European server, let alone joined a pro academy team, if it weren’t for my work. 2 I sat on the sofa from afternoon until dark. He didn’t come back for me. In the past, he would have rushed home immediately, but this time, he didn’t. It wasn’t until nine that evening when Ryan finally returned. He reeked faintly of alcohol and pulled me into his arms without a word. “Still mad, babe? I already told Sierra to delete the post and make a statement saying it was a fake prank. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?” After he spoke, I took out my phone to check. Sierra had indeed posted: [That last post was fake, haha (someone’s shy QWQ)! Happy April Fool’s, everyone! P.S. Hope I can post the same thing next Valentine’s Day, meow~] The accompanying picture was a selfie of her with her arms around Ryan’s neck, their faces pressed close together. Looking at the almost provocative caption and selfie, I just had to laugh bitterly. I wriggled out of his embrace and sat up. “You really think her post is okay?” He sat up too, his previously gentle expression hardening. “What’s wrong? Didn’t she say it was fake? Why are you being so nitpicky?” “Am I being nitpicky?” My eyes instantly welled up. Staring at Ryan’s face, a face I had loved for eight years, a bitter ache of injustice filled my heart. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” He said, his face cold. “The girl’s just a bit lively, likes interacting with her fans. And fans love it; it brings me more hype and endorsement deals. What can you do now besides act like a nagging old woman? Just compete with other women?” “Have I ever made you work these past few years? Haven’t I been supporting you? Sierra graduated from a top university, she’s a famous gaming host. You just have to pick on her,” he sneered. “You’re not just jealous she’s better than you, are you?” The moment he finished speaking, I slapped him across the face, my voice trembling. “Get out! Without me, would you have achieved what you have today?” He stood there, his face icy, and left me with one last remark: “Don’t get ahead of yourself just because you play a few games. Have you ever played in a real competition?” With that, he slammed the door, leaving me shaking with rage. 3 Eight years ago, he said he wanted to be a pro gamer, not work a regular job. Because I loved the same game as him, I also wanted him to achieve his dream. So, I started working during the day and spent my evenings helping him analyze patches and figure out the best jungle routes. Because of me, he successfully joined the academy team. The first year, his income was minimal. His family didn’t support him, so our living expenses depended entirely on my meager salary. Ryan told me that once he made a name for himself, he would never let me suffer again. He promised to take care of me, forbidding me from working. Then, armed with my research, he ranked day and night. Until the transfer period, his era finally arrived. When he signed his big contract, he hugged me, spinning me around our tiny rented apartment several times. He said, “My darling Nora, you’re amazing! Way better than those clueless coaches now! Quit your crummy job; you’ll be my personal coach from now on!” Back then, I thought we needed each other. So I quit my job, helped him with replays, accompanied him in ranked games. While others had an off-season, he always had his private training sessions with me. Not wanting to add to his pressure, I secretly took on some coaching and boosting jobs to earn money for our living expenses. His prize money, he saved, planning for our future wedding. Later, he grew stronger and stronger, becoming a true golden-tier jungler. Tears soaked my pillow; I could barely breathe from the sadness. How could he say I was completely dependent on him? Hadn’t we achieved this together? I believed he was sincere then, but I never expected sincerity to be so fleeting. The Ryan who used to care for me was truly gone. I tried to fall asleep quickly, but my stomach ache kept me awake. Helpless, I opened my phone. And saw Sierra had posted on her social media. A picture. Her hand, blowing someone’s hair dry. The person’s face wasn’t visible, but I knew him intimately. [Found a stray puppy. Others didn’t want him, so I’ll gladly take him in~] I liked the post and commented: [Trash really needs a trash can.] 4 I finally managed to fall asleep, only to be woken at 2 AM by a frantic call. “Nora, are you out of your mind? You can insult me, but why insult Sierra?” “You told me to get lost in the middle of the night. I had nowhere to go, and Sierra kindly took me in. Nothing happened between us. She just posted on social media, why are you insulting her?” “Our issues are between us; don’t drag innocent people into it, okay? Nora, after all this time, I never knew you were like this!” He yelled at me, and then I heard a woman’s muffled sobs from his end. He whispered soothingly, “Don’t cry. I’ll make her apologize to you, okay? Come on, wipe your tears, you’re like a little kitten.” “I… I don’t need an apology… I know his old lady is mad at me, so insulting me is… is deserved…” She stammered, sobbing, “But why would she insult you… You’ve supported her for so long… and I’ve been so good to you… yet you never even look at me… I feel bad for you… it’s not fair!” With them so deeply in love, I felt like the villain, blocking their romance. “Nora, apologize to Sierra.” My voice was hoarse. “No way. Do whatever you want, just don’t bother me anymore.” “Then get out of the house I bought!” He said it, then froze himself. I didn’t speak for a long time, feeling as if it was hard to breathe. This house, we bought it together, but I hadn’t paid as much as he did. Yet, he’d put my name on the deed. He’d promised: This is our marital home. Once bought, it’s yours. Not even I have the right to make you leave. If we argue, you can kick me out. But now, for another woman, he was taking back the security he’d given me. His voice softened, sounding tired. “Apologize to Sierra, and we’ll pretend nothing happened and stay together. Even though you’re upset, you also slapped me, so we’re even.” “I’ll sign the house over to you tomorrow.” My voice was terribly hoarse. “I don’t care for it anymore.” 5 I had no home left in this country. With tears in my eyes, I called my mom. “Mom, I want to come home.” As if knowing I was hurting, she said nothing, only asked, “Do you have money for a plane ticket?” I was sobbing uncontrollably, my vision blurred with tears as I bought a plane ticket to leave the country in three days. The next day, with swollen eyes, I arrived at the property transfer office. The line was long. I sat and waited for a while before Ryan finally showed up, fashionably late. Sierra followed him, dressed glamorously. When she saw me, a flicker of disdain crossed her eyes. Ryan frowned deeply. “You’ve been crying?” He gritted his teeth. “You just had to cause a scene. We could have made up yesterday, but now you’ve made yourself so miserable.” He took my hand. “Alright, let’s go home. Stop this.” But my gaze immediately fell on his empty wrist. I instantly retorted: “Where’s the red string? The red string we got together? Did you throw that away too?” He froze. Sierra spoke up then: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was important to you guys. I thought it was just a regular string, so I threw it away.” I closed my eyes, then quietly told Ryan: “We went to the Temple of Serenity together for that. It had some of my hair in it.” If the hair was lost, the owner would suffer bad luck. We were young then, believing in those old tales, believing we would be together forever. The one with his hair, I wore on my wrist, never taking it off except to shower. “If you didn’t want it, you could have given it back to me. Why throw it away?” My nose burned. “You knew I cared about that the most!” “Alright, it’s just a string. Sierra didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll get you a hundred more, okay?” He sounded impatient. “Why do you always care about these unimportant, useless things?” “Because I love you!” I roared, then collapsed onto the chair, muttering, “But now, I don’t. Not even a little bit.” I tore off the red string from my wrist and tossed it into a nearby trash can, along with my last shred of hope. Ryan stared for a long time, his eyes reddening. Then he said coldly, “Fine. Fine then. If you don’t love me, get lost. No need to bother each other anymore.” I wiped away my tears and looked at him. “I can live without you, but what about you?” He was used to me meticulously handing him all my research, used to me staying up all night helping him find the meta. What would he, the lazy one, do if I left? Finally, our turn came. In front of me, as if out of spite from my words, Ryan transferred the house deed to Sierra. She looked overjoyed, then worriedly spoke: “I truly didn’t realize my feelings would cause such a big impact on you two.” I couldn’t be bothered with her fake sincerity. Just as I was about to turn and leave, someone, appearing out of nowhere, shoved me to the ground. The pain in my abdomen nearly overwhelmed me. The person wasn’t done, kicking me and yelling, “Why are you trying to ruin Sierra and God Ryan’s love? Are you that pathetic?!” Ryan grabbed her, about to retaliate, but Sierra chose that moment to fall. Ryan immediately let go to help her up, and the attacker fled. After helping Sierra up, he finally came to help me. “Hospital… take me to the hospital…” Eight years of a relationship, he couldn’t even help me with this last small favor. He picked me up, but Sierra tugged at his sleeve: “Weren’t you going to help me pick out a kitten? The pet store will close soon…” I clutched Ryan’s collar, but after a glance at me, he slowly placed me back on the bench. “Just a push, it shouldn’t be too serious,” he said softly. “Take a taxi yourself. I’ll reimburse you.” My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. I watched helplessly as Ryan and Sierra walked further and further away, step by step. Sierra looked back at me, a mocking smile on her face.

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After my husband Ethan Morris cheated on me with his secretary Sienna Dawn, he insisted on divorcing me. When the divorce lawsuit began, my first love Adrian Foster offered to be my lawyer. I agreed. Later, Adrian fought tooth and nail to win my divorce case, and I walked away with 50% of Ethan’s assets. On the day of signing, however, I overheard a conversation between Adrian and Ethan outside the door. Ethan said smugly: “Adrian, thank you for pretending to be Lily’s lawyer and helping me hide my assets! If Lily knew that what she got wasn’t even worth one of Sienna’s diamond necklaces, she’d die of anger!” Adrian lowered his voice in warning: “Ethan Morris, I’m not doing this to help you. Everything I’ve done is for Sienna’s happiness. If you ever dare betray Sienna in the future, I’ll make sure you go bankrupt!” My hand trembled on the doorknob, and a sharp pain shot through my chest. I never imagined that both my ex-boyfriend and my ex-husband would betray me for the same woman.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Both men turned around simultaneously, their expressions showing no trace of anything amiss. “Lily, sit over here.” Adrian spoke first, waving me over. With their earlier conversation still echoing in my ears, I clutched my bag tightly and walked toward Adrian. Adrian pulled out a handkerchief and thoughtfully wiped the water stains from my clothes. “I should have picked you up, but my car broke down halfway. It’s pouring outside—you didn’t get too wet, did you?” I shook my head. He explained while pulling out a chair for me. During our four years of college, Adrian had always taken care of me this attentively. Even after our reunion during the past half-year of litigation, he’d continued treating me well. Friends around us would tease him: “Adrian, she’s not even divorced yet. She still has a husband.” Plenty of people mocked him too, bringing up our breakup from back then. “Adrian, why are you still acting like a lovesick puppy? Did you forget how Lily dumped you in college?” But Adrian acted like he didn’t hear them. He’d cover my ears. “I already missed you once.” “This time, I absolutely won’t let myself miss you again.” I thought he still had feelings for me, that he genuinely wanted us to get back together. Now I knew better—I’d been deluding myself all along. The warmth before my eyes was a sweet trap custom-designed for me. Looking at the seat he’d pulled out, I placed my bag there and leaned toward him. “Organize the documents first. Let me take a look.” Adrian nodded, highlighting the key sections of the documents. When he leaned close, he brought with him a crisp, cool fragrance. I tilted my head, listening carefully. From time to time, I’d smile and whisper a few words near his ear. Ethan lounged lazily against his chair back and laughed: “Mr. Foster’s litigation services come with such excellent extras!” I said nothing, simply watching the two men before me quietly. Finding it all utterly ridiculous.

“Sorry I’m late.” Sienna Dawn pushed open the door. This time both men didn’t just turn their heads—they stood up. “Sienna, what are you doing here?” Ethan walked to Sienna’s side, brazenly wrapping his arm around her waist. From the corner of my eye, I saw Adrian’s fist clench tightly. “I was a bit worried about you…” “And this is such a major life event. I thought I should be here with you.” Halfway through her words, Sienna turned to look at me. I smiled faintly and lowered my head, fiddling with the ring on my finger, pretending not to notice. “Who’s the mistress putting on such a touching performance for?” “After Ethan Morris dies, who knows who’ll be lying next to him!” At these words, Ethan’s expression darkened instantly, his smile vanishing completely. “Lily, watch your mouth.” “I know you can’t bear to divorce me—that’s why this lawsuit has dragged on for two years.” “What, having second thoughts now?” I snorted coldly and glanced at Sienna, who wore an aggrieved expression. “Not this time.” “Ethan Morris, you always used to pester me asking about my first love, didn’t you?” “Well, he’s right in front of you now.” I looked toward Adrian, who sat one seat away from me. “You’re Lily’s first love?” “That first love she dated for four years—the one who made such a scene when you broke up?” Ethan spoke rapidly, staring at Adrian with a look that had become very subtle. His words even carried a hint of resentment. Adrian stiffened his spine, looking at me somewhat confused. I spread my hands and smiled. “We’ve been married five years, and you’ve always been a thorn in his side. But I kept my mouth shut—he investigated for five years and found nothing.” Adrian raised his eyes slightly, his gaze flicking toward Sienna. Finally, he nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morris.” Ethan’s face turned extremely ugly, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Adrian. “Stop looking. We’re just ordinary friends now.” “Sign the papers. Don’t keep your true love stuck as a mistress who can’t see the light of day.” I leaned forward to take the documents from Adrian’s hands. The thick stack of papers—I signed through them all in one go. The lawsuit with Ethan had lasted two years. We’d gone through mediation procedures three to five times. Each time, at the last moment, I’d backed out. Not because I loved Ethan so much—I just refused to lose to a woman like Sienna Dawn. The first time I met Sienna was in Ethan’s office. She’d just graduated and was job hunting. A clean, efficient high ponytail, plaid shirt, canvas shoes—her whole being radiated youthful energy. The first time I saw her, I thought of Adrian. Adrian as a college freshman had looked just as plain and simple, seemingly completely out of place in a city like Seattle. But I’d fallen hopelessly for Adrian anyway, chasing him crazily for three months. Finally, with a dark expression, he’d agreed: “Lily, you’re like a sticky plaster I can’t shake off. So annoying.” “Lily, let’s date for one year. After one year, we break up.” Later, we dated for four years. I was the one who initiated the breakup, on the eve of our graduation ceremony, the day before his birthday. Adrian knelt in the rain begging me all night long. I hid in my dorm building and never went down. Back then, everyone on campus said I was heartless, said Adrian had been toyed with by a rich girl and then kicked aside. After we broke up, I never saw Adrian again.

So when I saw Sienna Dawn, my heart inexplicably softened a bit. Ethan was flipping through resumes in front of me, his finger stopping at Sienna’s. “You’ve met this one. HR said she’s decent. But I think she looks pretty unsophisticated. I’m hiring a secretary, not sponsoring a charity case.” Ethan had a vicious tongue. He’d always liked flashy, superficial things—liked beautiful, attractive people. Like me. He’d liked me since childhood. Because I was beautiful and ignored him. That’s why when the Lily family went bankrupt and everyone avoided me like the plague, he came around proposing marriage. I pressed down on Ethan’s hand as he flipped to the next resume. “Let’s go with her. I think she’s good. She looks innocent, and her abilities seem solid too.” To make me happy, Ethan kept Sienna on. Back then, Ethan still found me novel and exciting. Every day, aside from work, he’d cling to me and refuse to let go. After each time, he’d pester me with questions: “What was your college boyfriend’s name?” “How far did you two go? Did he do this with you too?” “Who’s better, me or him?” “Lily, do you still love him?” Ethan was very immature. From the day we got married in a whirlwind, he’d planted a thorn in his heart. Everything he looked at reminded him of Adrian. Everything he did, he had to compare with Adrian. But I never breathed a word. The next time I saw Sienna, she wore a Chanel-style suit and sat outside Ethan’s office. Her exquisite makeup made her look young and beautiful, impossible not to notice. “Miss Lily, Mr. Morris is still in a meeting. Please wait outside for a moment.” Everyone in this building called me Mrs. Morris—only she called me Miss Lily. No one in this secretary’s office would make me wait outside—only she told me to sit and wait. I stared at the red marks on her neck and that expensive necklace. “Miss Dawn has excellent work capabilities.” “You’ve been at Pinecrane for less than half a year, and you can already afford a $100,000 necklace just like that.” “Someone gave it to me.” Sienna’s delicate face instantly flushed red. At that moment, I knew she’d latched onto Ethan. That necklace had been a purchase requirement when I bought a bag before. It had sat unworn in my jewelry box. A few days ago, Ethan had asked me for it. I thought it was for a client. Turned out it was for Sienna. Since marrying me, Ethan hadn’t continued his old ways of sleeping around like the playboy everyone knew him as. He’d stayed faithfully by my side for two years. Counting the days, his patience was probably running out. Someone like him would never stay put for anyone. This marriage, to me, was just decoration—a tool to keep the Lily family from collapsing. So I wasn’t heartbroken. Back then, I was thinking about how to prolong this marriage in name only, or how to get a share of the Morris family assets after divorce. But I never expected it would be Sienna Dawn—the woman he’d initially looked down on. And Sienna, as it turned out, wasn’t content to stay in her lane either. I was at a banquet hosted by the Morris family when Sienna sent me those obscene videos and photos. While dealing with Ethan’s parents pressuring me about having children, I was thinking about how to deal with Sienna. [Miss Lily, I’m pregnant with Mr. Morris’s child.] [Mr. Morris and I truly love each other. Please let us be together.] I pretended not to see it, pretended nothing happened. But I didn’t expect that same night, Ethan would come home dead drunk and confess everything. “Sienna is pregnant. The baby is mine.”

“I want her to keep it.” I stared blankly at Ethan sitting across from me. My mouth opened and closed. My hand resting on my lower abdomen involuntarily twitched. “Have you thought this through?” “If you really have, I’ll make room for her.” Ethan looked up at me in disbelief. Perhaps he hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly either. But his joy was fleeting. He grabbed my hand and demanded: “Lily, have you never loved me? Not even once?” “Are you still hung up on that damn first love of yours?!” “Cheating, divorce—even if I brought her home today to have the baby, you wouldn’t care at all, would you?!” I watched Ethan throw his tantrum, watched him smash an entire cabinet of liquor. I let him pin me down and take what he wanted without restraint, without any resistance. “Lily, could you just… even just a little bit, love me even just a little…” I said nothing. In the days that followed, Ethan often didn’t come home. He brought Sienna to all kinds of occasions. At events where I wasn’t present, Ethan would shield her from drinks, hold umbrellas for her, drive her to and from work—looking exactly like a couple deeply in love. Scandals flew everywhere, and each time I’d step in to smooth things over, buying off those tabloid stories. I sat securely in the position of Mrs. Morris, cleaning up Ethan’s mess. But Sienna couldn’t sit still. Or perhaps it was the baby in her belly that couldn’t wait. “Miss Lily, when will you agree to the divorce?” “I don’t want my child to be called a bastard when it’s born.” I stirred the coffee in front of me, finding it both laughable and pathetic. “Miss Dawn is too naive. Marriages of convenience in families like ours involve too many interests. Divorce isn’t that simple.” “Besides, it’s not that I won’t divorce—it’s your Mr. Morris who refuses.” Perhaps my words hit too close to home. That very night, Sienna attempted suicide. The baby in her belly wasn’t saved. Ethan came home with bloodshot eyes, nearly strangling me to death. “Lily, who told you to go see her!” “Do you know she almost died! Because of what you said, the baby in her belly is gone!” “Lily, do you want a divorce that badly?” “Fine! Let’s divorce!” I only learned later that Sienna had slit her wrists to pressure Ethan into divorcing, resulting in a miscarriage. She said it was me who went to see her. Her words “I love you so much” kept Ethan’s heart captive. Her words “Lily doesn’t love you at all” also severed the last thread of hope between Ethan and me. “Sienna wasn’t actually pregnant.” “She’s just a gold-digger trying to climb the social ladder, staging this whole drama herself.” “Speaking of which, Mrs. Morris is truly magnanimous—ready to divorce just like that. If it were me, I’d make that scumbag and homewrecker miserable for years before I’d be satisfied!” When these words reached my ears, the hand signing the divorce agreement stopped cooperating. “I’m not divorcing anymore.” “Ethan Morris, you’re the one at fault. I want you to leave with nothing.” And so, the lawsuit dragged on for two years. Long enough for Adrian to appear by my side. Actually, I didn’t care how much money I got from the Morris family. I just wanted to spite Sienna. Adrian’s appearance, the trap Adrian set—it suddenly all seemed pointless to me. I couldn’t even be bothered to investigate the relationship between them anymore. “Let’s sign.” I pushed the documents toward Ethan.

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Three days before we were supposed to get our marriage license, a massive fire broke out in the building where Ethan Gray’s startup was located. Ethan and I were trapped in the office on the sixty-eighth floor. While escaping, a load-bearing steel beam overhead came crashing down. I pushed him out of the way and got pinned beneath the debris. A piece of broken rebar pierced straight through my right shoulder blade, less than an inch from my heart. Blood gushed out instantly, staining my white shirt crimson. The thick smoke choked me until I coughed up blood. I looked desperately at the man before me—usually so calm and composed. “Ethan, call 911… or call the rescue team…” My voice was barely a whisper. Every breath sent searing pain through the puncture wound, and blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. Just one phone call to give our location, and we could survive. He was about to make the call when his expression changed after seeing a message on his phone. “Sorry, something happened to Vanessa…” Ethan knelt before me, his suit covered in dust, prying my fingers away from his arm one by one. “Chloe, you’ve always been strong. You’ll be fine. Vanessa is different.” Hearing his words, my heart sank bit by bit.

Vanessa Sullivan was Ethan Gray’s wealthy first love from high society. That girl had been pampered her whole life. She never had to support Ethan’s startup by living in a basement for three years eating bread, ruining her stomach, or drinking until she had a bleeding ulcer just to attract investors for him. All she had to do today, when Ethan had finally made it, was shed a few tears to throw him into complete chaos. “Ethan… it hurts so much…” I clutched my wound, trying to grab his pant leg. Ethan took a deep breath and avoided my hand. He fell silent for a moment, then finally took out his phone with only two percent battery left and dialed the number he knew by heart. The moment the call connected, his tense voice instantly became gentle and anxious: “Vanessa, did the power go out where you are? Don’t be scared. Just stay in the apartment elevator and don’t move. I’ll figure out a way to come save you right now.” The phone screen’s faint glow illuminated his sharp features. My heart, in that moment, felt hotter than the flames around us, yet instantly fell into an icy abyss. “Ethan Gray…” I called his name desperately. “I’ve lost so much blood. I’m going to die…” He covered the phone’s mouthpiece, turned his head, and scolded me with furrowed brows: “Chloe, just hang in there! The building fire caused a massive power outage in the area. Vanessa is trapped in her apartment elevator! She was locked in a basement for three days and nights years ago when she saved me—she has severe claustrophobia! Can you imagine how terrified she must be alone in the dark right now?” “But… the rebar went through my bone…” My whole body convulsed with pain, tears mixing with blood as they hit the ground. “Beep—” The phone died completely and went dark. Ethan irritably shoved his phone in his pocket, took off his designer suit jacket, and roughly pressed it against my wound. “Ahhh—!” The intense pain made me let out a piercing scream, and my vision went black. “Stop screaming!” His tone was cold and impatient. “Chloe, you’ve always been sensible and strong. What’s a little pain? You have a strong constitution. You can definitely hold on until the rescue team searches floor by floor. Vanessa’s mental state can’t handle this kind of trauma. I have to go make sure she’s safe.” He stood up, looking down at me from above. “Ethan Gray.” I stared at him intently, using the last of my strength to ask, “What if the rescue team doesn’t come and I burn to death?” His jawline tensed, his eyes completely devoid of warmth: “Are you using these extreme words to force me to give in again? I’m just making the most rational choice. Once I confirm Vanessa is okay, I’ll bring people to save you immediately.” With that, he turned without hesitation, his tall figure quickly disappearing into the smoke-filled corridor. Flames gradually closed in, the surrounding temperature so high it felt like it would melt a person. I lay on the scorching floor, watching the direction he left, the last bit of warmth in my heart completely burned to ashes.

I don’t know how much time passed before the door was violently split open with a fire axe. “There’s a survivor here! Quick! Stretcher!” Blinding flashlight beams shone on my face as several fully equipped firefighters rushed in. Seeing the horrific rebar through my shoulder blade and the huge pool of blood on the floor, even these experienced rescue workers gasped. “The victim has lost massive amounts of blood and is in severe shock! Start cutting immediately, prepare the cardiac stimulant!” The vibration from the saw cutting the rebar made me hurt so much I didn’t even have the strength to scream. In the second before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice come through the walkie-talkie from downstairs: “Captain, we found a male outside the building perimeter trying to force his way into the apartment building across the street that lost power. We’ve detained him…” I closed my eyes, a tear of despair sliding from the corner of my eye. When I woke up again, it was three days later. The smell of disinfectant was pungent. I struggled to open my eyes to see the white ceiling of a VIP hospital room. Hearing the sound, the man sitting on the sofa slowly uncrossed his legs. “You’re awake?” Ethan’s tone was flat, as natural as if he were asking what I had for breakfast. He walked to the bedside and opened a premium thermos on the table, ladling out a bowl of fragrant chicken soup. “This is from that exclusive restaurant you love. I had my assistant wait in line for two hours to get it.” He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it to my lips. “Eat. The doctor said you need nutrition.” “Take it away.” My voice was as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together, so weak I didn’t even have the strength to turn my head. Ethan’s hand froze in midair, a flash of impatience in his eyes. “Chloe, how long are you going to throw this tantrum?” He set the bowl down heavily on the nightstand, soup splashing out. “I told you, I can’t be an ungrateful person. You’re out of danger now, aren’t you? It’s just some superficial injuries. A few days of rest and you’ll be fine.” A nurse pushing a medication cart walked in just in time to hear this and turned pale with anger. “How can you talk like that as a family member?” The nurse pulled back my blanket and unbuttoned my hospital gown, revealing the horrifying scar with over twenty stitches. “The patient’s wound came within a hair’s breadth of piercing her heart. When she arrived, she was already in severe hemorrhagic shock. We spent a day and night in ICU resuscitation to bring her back! If you’re family, please get it straight—this is a severe penetrating injury, not some superficial wound!” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened, his cold gaze sweeping over the nurse: “This is our family business. It’s not your place as an outsider to interfere.” The nurse was frightened into silence by his terrifying look, her eyes reddening as she changed my dressing. Ethan turned his head, looking down at me from above. “I know you feel wronged. But these past few days I’ve been busy with the company’s post-disaster reconstruction, and I’ve had to take care of Vanessa after her shock. I’m already exhausted. Can you be a little more understanding?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone carrying a patronizing compromise. “The day after tomorrow is the day we agreed to get our marriage license. After we register, I’ll take you to Europe to relax. You can pick out whatever bags you want. Let’s just turn the page on this, okay?” I looked at him quietly, suddenly feeling he was completely unfamiliar. He was used to my five years of unconditional devotion and compliance. He was certain I loved him to the bone, certain I couldn’t leave him. So he could brazenly trample my boundaries, treat my life as worthless, then hand out some cheap material compensation to dismiss me. Just then, his phone rang with a special ringtone. He answered almost immediately, his previously cold voice instantly becoming so gentle it could drip honey: “What’s wrong, Vanessa? Another nightmare? Don’t be scared, I’m coming right over.” After hanging up, he grabbed his coat from the chair without hesitation. “Vanessa’s emotionally unstable. I need to go see her.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and placed it on the nightstand. “This is the marriage health certificate. Day after tomorrow at 10 a.m., I’ll wait for you at the county clerk’s office entrance. Don’t be late.” At the door, he stopped and looked back at me, his tone carrying a warning: “Chloe, don’t disappoint me.” The hospital room door closed. I looked at that red-stamped marriage certificate, and beside it, his blood-soaked shirt from when he pressed it against my wound that day in the fire—now dried and blackened. Using what little strength I had left, I swept both the marriage certificate and the bloody shirt into the trash.

The process of changing the dressing was like slow torture. The gauze tore at my flesh. I broke out in cold sweat, biting my lip hard until I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood. The nurse wiped my sweat with pity, her eyes red: “Your fiancé is too heartless. How could he leave you alone at a time like this to go be with another woman?” I said nothing, just managed a pale, transparent smile. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need him anymore. After the intense pain subsided, I leaned against the headboard and opened my social media. The first post was one Vanessa had just updated. In the photo, she leaned delicately against Ethan’s chest while he looked down cutting her steak, his eyes full of undisguised affection. The caption read: “No matter how terrifying the darkness, as long as you’re here, I’m not afraid of anything.” Below was her own comment: “Some things can’t be stolen through desperate clinging. Those who are favored will always act without fear.” I stared at the screen, my stomach churning with spasms. This was the “emotionally unstable” first love who had been “severely traumatized” according to Ethan. That afternoon, Ethan returned. He pulled out an exquisite velvet box from his briefcase and tossed it onto my blanket. “I’ve had my assistant transfer that hillside villa in the southern district into your name.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone full of arrogant certainty: “Vanessa was badly traumatized this time. Her therapist says she needs long-term companionship. Let’s postpone getting our license the day after tomorrow by a month.” He looked at me as if looking at a subordinate throwing a tantrum. “That villa is worth fifty million. Consider it compensation. We’ve been together this long—you should know how to choose.” I looked at that velvet box and suddenly laughed. “Fine.” I looked at him calmly, my eyes completely emotionless. “I agree to postpone.” Ethan froze. He seemed not to have expected me to agree so readily. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by satisfied approval. “You really are sensible.” He reached out, wanting to pat my head like before. I turned my head away, dodging his touch with disgust. His hand froze in midair, his expression darkening slightly. Just as he was about to lose his temper, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open. Vanessa entered carrying an enormous fruit basket, wearing three-inch heels and perfect makeup. “Ethan, I knew you’d be here.” She completely ignored me in the hospital bed, walking straight to Ethan and naturally linking her arm through his, pressing half her body against him. “Miss Hartley, I heard you were seriously injured. I came specially to see you.” Vanessa covered her mouth with an exaggerated look of shock and sympathy. “I’m so sorry. Ethan was too worried about me that day during the fire—he probably neglected you. You don’t blame him, do you?” Ethan frowned but his tone was gentle: “Vanessa, your body hasn’t recovered yet. Why did you come out?” “I was worried Miss Hartley might be angry at you because of me.” Vanessa bit her lip pitifully, her eyes instantly reddening. “After all, it’s almost time for you two to get your marriage license.” “Miss Sullivan’s information is really out of date.” I leaned against the pillow, watching her performance coldly. “Mr. Gray just postponed getting the license. He said he needs to leave time to properly accompany you, the psychological trauma patient.” Vanessa’s eyes lit up, a gleam of triumph flashing through them before she put on a look of panic. “Really? Ethan, that’s too unfair to Miss Hartley. She’s been with you for five years after all. Even without credit, she deserves recognition for her hard work. How can you postpone the wedding for me?” Ethan patted her hand reassuringly: “I’ve already given her the villa in the southern district as compensation. She deserves it. You don’t need to feel guilty.” Vanessa let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my God, Miss Hartley, you really hit the jackpot.” She released Ethan and walked to my bedside, looking down at me from above, lowering her voice to a volume only we could hear as she sneered: “But then again, for a gold-digger from the bottom like you, you could never earn this much money in your lifetime. Trading one month’s postponement for fifty million—that’s quite the deal. You might as well give up the position of Mrs. Gray now.” I looked at her utterly fake face, the rage in my heart no longer suppressible.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the table and threw it hard at Vanessa’s feet without hesitation. “Crash!” Glass shattered, water splashing everywhere. “Ah!” Vanessa screamed and collapsed to the floor, tears instantly pouring out like broken pearls. “Chloe, are you crazy!” Ethan flew into a rage, striding over and pulling Vanessa protectively behind him. “Chloe! What the hell is wrong with you!” he roared. I laughed coldly, my chest heaving violently with anger, pulling painfully at my wound. “Good intentions? She came to my hospital bed to show off and called me a bottom-feeding gold-digger—that’s her good intentions?” Vanessa hid behind Ethan, crying pitifully, trembling all over. “Ethan, I didn’t… I just thought Miss Hartley must be happy getting the villa, so I wanted to congratulate her. I don’t know what I said to anger her. Why would she do this to me…” As she cried, she secretly reached out and, while Ethan wasn’t paying attention, viciously grabbed my IV tube hanging by the bedside. She yanked hard. “Hiss—” The needle instantly slid roughly out of the vein in my hand, blood spurting out and dripping onto the white sheets. “You’re asking for it!” I forced myself to sit up despite the searing pain in my shoulder and back. Using all my strength, I slapped Vanessa hard across her pitiful face. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap echoed throughout the hospital room. Vanessa’s head snapped to the side from the force, five bright red finger marks instantly appearing on her pale face. She covered her cheek, staring in disbelief. “You dare hit her?!” Ethan completely lost it. Like an enraged lion, his hands clamped around my wrists like iron vises, slamming me back onto the hospital bed. “Chloe, you’re completely unreasonable! When did you become such a vicious shrew!” He pressed down on me from above, the fury in his eyes seeming ready to burn through me. I struggled desperately, my wrists marked with red welts from his grip. “Let go of me! Ethan Gray, you blind bastard!” During the violent struggle, I heard a teeth-grinding tearing sound from my right shoulder blade. Then, excruciating bone-deep pain swept through my entire body. The freshly sutured wound had been forcibly torn open by him. Warm blood instantly gushed out, rapidly staining my white hospital gown and spreading across the sheets in a large, horrifying red patch. Ethan looked down and saw that glaring blood. His pupils contracted sharply, veins bulging on the back of his hand, undisguisable panic and shock flashing through his eyes. “Chloe…” He instinctively released his grip, his voice trembling as he reached to cover my wound. But just then, Vanessa suddenly covered her face, moaning in pain, her body sliding limply downward. “Ethan, I feel so dizzy… I can’t breathe… I’m so scared…” Ethan’s movement froze. Between me, covered in blood, and Vanessa, “on the verge of collapse,” he hesitated for less than a second. “You brought this on yourself.” He abruptly withdrew his hand, issuing a cold order. “When you learn to control your emotions and apologize to Vanessa, then we’ll go get our marriage license.” With that, he scooped Vanessa up in his arms and rushed out of the room without looking back. “Doctor! Come quick and check on Vanessa! She’s fainted!” His frantically worried shouts echoed through the corridor. I collapsed on the hospital bed, watching the blood continuously flowing from my shoulder and back, my vision gradually blurring. With trembling hands, I pressed the call button. Doctors and nurses rushed in. Seeing the bed full of blood, their faces went deathly pale as they immediately wheeled me toward the emergency room. “Patient’s wound torn open a second time, massive hemorrhaging! Prepare blood plasma quickly!” The pain of being re-sutured was even more unbearable than the first time. Without anesthesia, each stitch piercing through flesh felt like slow torture of my soul. After the emergency treatment ended, I lay weakly in the hospital bed, my face paler than paper. I took out my phone and dialed an encrypted international number. The phone rang three times before being answered. “Hello, Grandpa. It’s me, Chloe.” On the other end, an elderly man’s trembling, excited voice came through, filled with incredible joy. “Chloe? You’re finally willing to contact Grandpa! I found out where you were three years ago, but you refused to acknowledge me as your grandfather for that poor boy’s sake, preferring to suffer! Have you come to your senses now? I’ll send the private jet to pick you up right away!” I closed my eyes, tears silently falling and landing on the pillow. “Grandpa, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have run away from home for a man. I shouldn’t have been so foolish. I want to come home.”

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After my rebirth, I saw Simon again, dressed in his signature suit. He pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at me with visible frustration, and casually pushed a bank card across the table. “There’s five million in this card. Consider it compensation for all those years you spent lost out there. I’ve also bought you an apartment in the city center. You should move out today.” “You know Miranda doesn’t like you. Every time she sees you, she ends up in the hospital.” Miranda was the fake heiress who’d been switched at birth at the hospital all those years ago. Simon paused, his expression somewhat unnatural. “If you need anything else, as long as it’s not too much, I can satisfy your requests. But from now on, don’t come back to this house.” In my previous life, I’d refused the money he offered, focused only on winning my family’s love. To please Simon, I’d worked factory shifts to buy him gifts, only to be killed by a drunk driver on my way to see him. When he learned of my death, he felt no sadness—only relief: “That clingy pest is finally dead. I can finally live in peace.” It turned out that the family affection I’d desperately longed for was nothing but a shackle around his neck. This time, I calmly tucked the bank card into my pocket: “Thank you. I have one more condition. Give me ten million, and we’ll sever our relationship completely.”

“What did you say?” Simon looked at me in disbelief. I simply gazed at him calmly and repeated: “Give me another ten million, and I’ll sever ties with you. From now on, I’ll never appear before you again.” “That way, Miranda won’t have to be hospitalized every few days because of me. Ten million in exchange for Miranda’s good health—that’s a bargain, isn’t it?” Perhaps finding my proposal absurd, Simon remained silent for several seconds before speaking: “Do you love money that much? For ten million, you’d give up your own family?” I looked at him and nodded. I did indeed need money. In my previous life, forget ten million—even a thousand dollars would require me, a high school graduate, to work grueling factory shifts for ten days. In this lifetime, family affection meant nothing compared to money. Born again, I only wanted to survive—and to live comfortably and happily. “I just want ten million.” Simon’s chest heaved violently with anger. “I knew it! You’re nothing but a gold digger!” He probably felt ashamed to share blood ties with someone so obsessed with money. “Fifteen million total, right? Sign this voluntary severance agreement, and the money will be transferred to your card immediately.” I picked up the pen and wrote my name—Chloe—on the severance agreement. Under Simon’s complicated gaze, I walked out of the Christopher family mansion, gripping the black card containing fifteen million. “Miss Chloe, Mr. Simon instructed me to take you to your new home.” The driver quickly opened the car door when he saw me emerge. I glanced back. Simon’s silhouette was reflected in the second-floor window of the Christopher mansion. He watched me leave. In my previous life, he’d been just as considerate at first. On my first day moving into his house, he’d already prepared an exquisite room for me: A large wardrobe, flowers filling the room, sheets smoother than my own skin. It was these small gestures of warmth that made me believe this was the family affection I’d longed for. That’s why I’d thrown myself at him like a moth to flame, desperate to please him. But in reality, it was merely politeness on his part. In his heart, his only sister would always be Miranda. Every time Miranda accused me of something, he’d believe her unconditionally. Of course, having died once already, I no longer cared. Snapping back to reality, I politely said to the driver: “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” I pulled out my phone and hailed a ride. Since we’d agreed to sever ties, I wouldn’t use the Christopher family’s car anymore. I didn’t need his so-called consideration, not even a little.

Three days later, at a café. “Miss Chloe, the contract is now in effect. You’re officially a shareholder of Spring Company.” Three days ago, when I’d received that fifteen million from the Christopher family, I’d already decided how to use it. Now, I’d successfully converted it into the equity contract in my hands: Fifteen percent of Spring Company’s shares. Company President Alexander excitedly shook my hand: “Miss Chloe, thank you for your trust. We’ll use this capital where it counts most. I guarantee you won’t lose money on this investment.” I nodded. Of course I knew he wouldn’t let me lose money. Spring Company—the future Spring Group—would become the world’s largest drone manufacturing company, ranking among the Fortune 500. This fifteen million investment would yield returns of a hundred, even a thousand times in the future. “For the follow-up business plan, how about I take you to dinner sometime and explain everything in detail?” Alexander asked sincerely. I shook my head. “Thank you, Mr. Alexander, but dinner won’t be necessary.” “As for business matters, I trust you. Leave professional matters to professionals.” “I invest in people.” I paused, then added: “Besides, I’ll be starting classes soon.” Alexander looked startled: “Classes?” “I enrolled in a finance training program. They teach you how to evaluate projects and calculate return rates.” I smiled: “My foundation is weak. I need to start from scratch.” He studied me for two seconds, didn’t press further, and simply said: “Alright then. You’re welcome to visit the company anytime.” Leaving Spring, I headed straight to the office building where I’d registered for classes. The finance training program was on the twelfth floor. When I pushed open the door, the classroom was already more than half full. As I looked up to find a seat, my peripheral vision caught a familiar face in the front row by the window—Miranda. Two or three girls surrounded her, smiling as they listened to her talk. Just like in my previous life, wherever she went, she was the center of attention. I didn’t look twice. I walked straight toward the back row. But just as I passed by her, she suddenly looked up. Our eyes met. She froze for a moment, then curved her lips into a smile, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for the people around her to hear: “Chloe? What are you doing here?” “This class isn’t cheap, you know. Simon just gave you some money and you’re already squandering it like this?” I didn’t respond. She frowned slightly, as if suddenly understanding something: “I should have known—poor people have limited horizons. Get a little money in their hands and they don’t know who they are anymore!” “Don’t tell me you think taking these classes will turn you into some sought-after professional?” She laughed lightly, her mockery unconcealed. “But at the end of the day, this is all just theory. Without a family business, all the studying in the world is useless.” “Unlike me—Simon’s already letting me practice real investments at the company. I’m only here to get a certificate.” A girl beside her immediately chimed in: “Miranda, Simon treats you so well.” “Of course he does.” Miranda smiled with her eyes curved, her gaze sweeping over me as if by accident: “Let me tell you, these days, studying theory alone is completely useless.” “Just the other day, there was this PhD graduate from some prestigious school who came to see Simon—what was his name, Sergio something. He begged Simon for investment, acting as submissive as a dog.” “For just five million in investment, he’d do whatever Simon said. Even when Simon scolded him, he had to smile and apologize. What good is a high degree? In the end, he’s still—” I suddenly looked up at her. Five million? Dr. Sergio? Sergio Reyes! It had to be him! I remembered this man. In my previous life, Simon had mentioned him countless times—the investment he most regretted not making. This man he’d treated like a dog would become someone far beyond his reach in the future. The five million investment now. In six years, it would be worth at least fifty billion!

Seeing me suddenly stare at her, Miranda assumed her words had struck a nerve. She sneered: “What? Finally getting it? Realizing that studying theory alone won’t work? You need money in hand!” She closed her book, turned around, and suddenly became generous: “Tell you what—Simon bought you that apartment, right? You living there is just a waste. Sell it to me. I’ll give you five million.” “With that five million, you can actually practice investing!” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes were full of condescending charity. I understood. She just didn’t want me living in the apartment Simon had prepared. She didn’t want me to have any connection with Simon whatsoever. But it suited me just fine. “Sure,” I said with a smile. Miranda froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily. But soon, she smiled again: “Great. Send me your account information.” My phone buzzed. Five million deposited. I looked at that number, about to thank her, when I suddenly heard— “Idiot!” Miranda burst out laughing: “I told you—you’re poor with limited vision and don’t understand investing, and you still don’t believe it.” “Did you research the location? Do you know how much this apartment will be worth in a year?” “Six million!” “A 120% return rate in one year—that’s real investing!” “You don’t even know to hold onto the most profitable real estate. Give you all the money in the world, and it’ll just go down the drain!” The people around her joined in mocking me. But I simply looked at her calmly. Of course I knew the apartment would appreciate in a year. But six million would be its peak price. In the future, the real estate market would crash. The longer people held onto these properties, the more they’d lose. Sergio Reyes’s project, on the other hand, had the most promising future. It would yield returns of a hundred, even a thousand times. And my most important task right now was: finding Sergio Reyes. “Class is starting.” Just then, the class bell rang at the perfect moment. Everyone stopped talking and returned to their seats. The teacher walked in—a middle-aged man wearing black-framed glasses. He spoke quickly and flipped through his PowerPoint slides just as fast. I put away my thoughts, opened my notebook, and started listening attentively. Honestly, much of it was still too advanced for me. IRR, valuation models—they sounded like gibberish. But I wrote down every word, circling anything I didn’t understand to look up after class. During the entire two-hour class, I didn’t lose focus for a second. When the bell rang, I’d already filled six pages of notes. The moment I looked up to rest, I suddenly noticed someone standing at the door. Sergio Reyes.

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