Category: English

  • The Cost of Compassion

    My husband was the most saintly doctor in the hospital—valued by his superiors, beloved by his subordinates, and deeply respected by his patients. In everyone’s eyes, his only flaw was me: his unreasonable, unaccommodating wife. So, when the eight-year-old girl clutched her heart again and demanded that my husband marry her mother before she would agree to surgery, I smiled. I gladly agreed. 1 “I want Uncle Liam to be my daddy!” The little girl’s subtle crying echoed faintly in my ears. My vision was still blurry, and the sharp pain in my back from crashing against the wall was so clear that I instinctively grabbed the wall for support. Until another sorrowful woman’s voice rang out: “Chloe, be a good girl. Don’t cry.” “No, Mommy! Chloe is scared.” The little girl held her chest with one hand and tightly grabbed the doctor beside her with the other. She was very pretty, her eyes brimming with tears. “Uncle Liam, if I die, Mommy will be all alone. Will you marry Mommy? Help Chloe take care of Mommy.” My husband, Liam Carter, gently stroked the little girl’s hair. “Uncle Liam will be with you throughout the whole surgery. You’ll be fine, Chloe.” “Why did you come out here?” He looked at me with exasperation, then turned to the people around us to explain. “My wife didn’t mean it. She just overthinks things. I’ll talk to her and explain everything later.” Hearing this, Chloe broke free from her mother’s embrace and threw herself into Liam’s arms. “I don’t want to! If Uncle Liam won’t be my daddy, I won’t do the surgery!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her shrill, childish voice practically piercing through the entire hospital floor. Her face instantly turned beet red. Liam quickly tried to soothe her. “Okay, okay, Uncle Liam promises. Don’t panic, Chloe, it’s bad for your health.” Mia, Chloe’s mother, seemed to finally notice me. With tears falling down her face, she went to pull Chloe back. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Carter. It’s just that Dr. Carter has been too good to Chloe. She grew up without a father and is too attached to him. I’ve always heard how wonderful you are. Just let her get through this surgery…” I looked at the familiar scene unfolding in front of me with absolute disbelief. I had actually been reborn. In my past life, when Chloe said those exact words, I had harshly scolded her. The little girl fainted from fright, and my husband immediately scooped her up and rushed to the emergency room. A crowd of people followed them, leaving me alone to be pointed at and whispered about, called petty and narrow-minded for arguing with a sick child. It was the same right now. The commotion caused by the three of them had blocked the hospital hallway. Several people were already moved to tears by Chloe’s desperate plea for her mother. They whispered among themselves. “That little girl is so sweet. She’s so sick, yet she’s still worrying about her mom.” “What kind of person is she? The kid is just terrified. Would it kill her to just play along to build some good karma?” “Dr. Carter is still as kind as ever.” Amidst the chorus of accusations, I snapped back to reality. Supporting myself against the wall, I slowly stood up straight, enunciating every word: “Okay.” The surrounding area instantly fell dead silent. “Liam, I agree too.” “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 Naturally, Liam took my words as an angry bluff. But I continued, “If you don’t divorce me, how are you going to be this child’s father?” “Or are you just lying to a sick kid?” Liam instinctively looked at Chloe, then looked up at me, a flash of surprise in his eyes. “What are you talking about?” Chloe, however, was thrilled. “Auntie, did you agree?!” The hatred burning in my chest hadn’t fully dissipated. I looked straight at Liam. “Of course. As long as your Uncle Liam agrees.” Liam rubbed Chloe’s head, looking exactly like a good doctor who had collapsed from exhaustion while running around for a critically ill patient. His voice was full of fatigue. “Honey, please don’t add fuel to the fire.” The woman also looked at me warily. She even stood protectively in front of the two of them, as if I were some kind of monster and she was the brave hero protecting them. I didn’t want to waste any more breath on these people. “Little girl, look at your Uncle Liam. He doesn’t look very willing. You’ll have to try harder.” I don’t know if Chloe was just overly excited, but she actually fainted again, just like in my previous life. Liam quickly picked her up and looked at me with deep disappointment. “Why are you holding a grudge against a child?!” In my past life, I disagreed, and they said I was petty. In this life, I agreed, and they still said I was petty. Whatever happened, in their mouths, it always became my fault. True, my reputation in this hospital was bad enough already. Why waste my breath on them? I pushed past the crowd still watching the spectacle and, sure enough, saw my thin, small daughter in the corner. Overwhelmed with emotion, I rushed over and hugged her tight. “Baby, how long have you been here?” Lily whispered, “…Mommy, I just got here.” But the wrinkles on the hem of her shirt, clenched tightly in her fists, gave away her lie. 3 In my previous life, at this exact moment, I still naively believed that Liam was just an overly compassionate doctor. I hadn’t wanted to say anything harsh to a sick child, which was why I was so quick to argue back. It was exactly because I saw my daughter in the corner. I was terrified that Lily would believe Liam was going to be someone else’s dad. That’s why I rushed to shut Chloe down, terrified that Lily would be heartbroken if she heard. In this life, during the time I spent arguing with them, Lily must have heard everything. It’s good that she heard, I thought, stroking my daughter’s soft, yellowish hair, my eyes full of sorrow. Lily was the child Liam and I had two years into our marriage. She had been sickly since she was a baby, ending up in the hospital every few days. Her father was a doctor at the hospital, often so busy he couldn’t come home. His daughter couldn’t see him at home, and when she ended up in the hospital, Liam was always the most righteous and outstanding doctor—his time had to be spent helping other patients. He didn’t even have time to look after his own daughter. But aren’t all doctors like that? At most, Liam was just exceptionally negligent of his family. Because of this, even though I often fought with Liam about it in my past life, I suppressed the thought of divorce. No matter how negligent he was of our family, he was a beloved doctor at the hospital. Even if our daughter was hospitalized, she was surrounded by “aunts” and “uncles” who knew her, so she would get better care. Holding onto that thought, I accepted a dispatch from my boss to work out of state. My daughter’s medical bills required a lot of money, so I couldn’t relax. I worked crazy overtime, and my daughter’s health gradually improved. Every time I came home for the holidays, she was a little healthier. My sweet daughter timidly asked me if I could stay with her. I made a promise to her: Next February, Mommy will come back to work near Lily. I still remembered Lily’s excited little face, hugging me and refusing to let go. Yet, three months before that promise, I received the phone call notifying me of my daughter’s death. Outside the operating room, Liam was still in disbelief, muttering, “How could this happen… it was just a bone marrow donation… it’s a minor procedure… how did she just…” I sprinted back to the hospital. My daughter’s body hadn’t even been sent to the morgue yet. I numbly listened to the nurse. She said Lily was unlucky; the bone marrow donation triggered complications, and she died right there on the operating table. “Unlucky?” “Bone marrow donation?” I actually laughed. How could these words be attached to Lily? She was already so fragile. I asked numbly, “Who told Lily to donate bone marrow?” The nurse’s eyes darted to Liam. The family receiving the bone marrow donation held their child lovingly, but looked at me with extreme defensiveness. Even they knew that donating bone marrow was harmful to my daughter. They were afraid that I, as a mother, would go crazy. Liam was still mumbling, “How could this happen? Lily looked so healthy.” “Theoretically, nothing should have gone wrong.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I lunged at him and slapped Liam hard across the face multiple times. “Lily was only fourteen!” A group of people rushed to hold me back. I couldn’t get close to Liam again. Under the force of those slaps, Liam slowly snapped back to reality. He looked at me with resentment. “All you care about is making money! Didn’t you know a daughter needs her mother’s care?” “If you had been by her side, her health wouldn’t have been so poor! No one else gets these complications!” The more he spoke, the more he felt he was in the right. His voice grew louder, ignoring the shocked stares of his colleagues around him, loudly passing judgment on me. “Love is the most important thing!” “Fuck your love!” I practically flipped over the people holding me back. They stumbled and yelled for Liam to leave first. I watched helplessly as Liam walked away, pretending to be utterly devastated. A large crowd surrounded me, trying to calm me down. My fists were clenched tight. After the crowd dispersed, the head nurse came over. She pulled out a bank card and couldn’t help but tell me that 80% of the money I had transferred into my daughter’s account over the years had been transferred out by Liam to help other patients. The remaining money was forcibly withheld by the head nurse, who took pity on my daughter. I could barely process her words before the head nurse continued. “Dr. Carter is kind-hearted. Those patients were in critical condition, and Lily could still hold on. It’s just that these illnesses are easier to treat when they’re young. Trying to make up for it later… the results aren’t as good. But Lily was obedient, took her medicine, and exercised, so she still looked quite healthy…” I remembered when my daughter suddenly fell critically ill at nine years old. It was an unprecedented emergency. Under wave after wave of eye-rolls and cold shoulders from Liam, I borrowed tens of thousands from relatives, only for Liam to forcefully make me return it. I asked him numbly back then, “What about our daughter?” Liam’s attitude was gentle, but the words he spat out were ice-cold. “Think of another way.” “Taking alternative medications will also work.” “Those medications have side effects!” “The side effects are just written there to scare people. The actual probability of them happening is less than ten percent.” I couldn’t believe those words came out of a father’s mouth. “If that ten percent falls on a person, it’s one hundred percent for them!” He said impatiently, “Then what do you want me to do!” “Liam, Lily is your biological daughter!” “Precisely because she is my daughter, she will definitely be as kind-hearted as I am and be willing to give up this chance.” He accepted the silk banners of gratitude from bystanders, saying carelessly, “I’ve seen Lily’s chart. Taking those meds is fine. You’re a doctor’s family member too, don’t be so unreasonable.” That time, Lily slowly recovered on her own, but her constitution became even weaker than before. To others, Liam said, “I’m her father. I can take care of her no matter what. Do those other patients have these conditions? I honestly couldn’t bear to watch them suffer.” Was this the care he promised? The head nurse genuinely liked Lily. She kept rambling about how sensible Lily was. The implication was that Lily secretly agreed to this bone marrow donation behind my back because she was considerate of her father and afraid I would worry. My throat tasted of thick, metallic blood. Liam always said he knew his limits. Whenever I asked more, he would say that professionals do professional work and tell me not to delay him from saving lives. I didn’t understand. I just got married, but it ended up costing my daughter’s life, dragged to death by his ‘kindness’. When the head nurse saw me calm down, she turned and brought Liam over, trying to mediate between us. I watched Liam look at the head nurse with profound sadness. He slowly approached me and the first thing he said was, “Do you know what you did wrong?” “Reflect on yourself carefully. Is accompanying your daughter more important, or is your filthy money more important?” I said in a low voice, “…Now, you’re still saying this…” Liam coughed and bent down to help me up, as if he suddenly felt bad for me. “Lily’s death isn’t entirely your fault. Maybe it was just her bad luck. She was born sickly. Getting her to fourteen means we’ve done our absolute best as parents.” His familiar rhetoric sent a sharp, agonizing pain through my heart. In the past, he would always say these “nice” things, and then turn around and ask me to give up everything I had. Liam tilted his head to look at the head nurse. His face was covered in tears. “There are always patients in the hospital waiting for transplant matches. Since Lily has already passed away, we might as well donate all her organs. It’ll build good karma for her next life, and her organs can continue to shine and generate heat in other people’s bodies.” “Organ donation requires both parents to sign the consent form. Come with me.” I slowly raised my head. Liam’s face, backlit by the light, began to look twisted. “…Donate organs?” I stood up and plunged a knife straight into Liam’s chest. Seeing his look of absolute disbelief, I felt an intense thrill of satisfaction. “Why did you trick Lily into donating bone marrow?!” Lily didn’t understand the dangers of donating bone marrow at all. She was just a simple child who wanted her father to be happy. She was waiting for me to come home! I screamed, “Go to hell and atone for our daughter!” The head nurse’s panicked screams rang out. I pulled the knife out and quickly stabbed him again. More than a dozen continuous stabs, each one sinking deep. Every stab left Liam dripping with blood. Blood poured relentlessly from his mouth, his body convulsing. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back in the hospital. 4 “Mommy… are you going to divorce Daddy?” Before I could answer, Lily squeezed my hand and said firmly, “Mommy, I support you.” My daughter was only eight, the same age as Chloe, but she looked a whole size smaller. My tears fell instantly. Lily frantically wiped my face. “Daddy is bad to Mommy. I saw everything.” “I’ll be a good daughter to Daddy from now on.” She bit her lip. “I won’t let the aunts and uncles in the hospital say bad things about Mommy anymore.” I wiped my tears and kissed her little cheek. “Let them say what they want, Lily. Mommy is teaching you today: other people’s opinions are complete bullshit.” To outsiders, Liam was definitely a top-tier husband. He was tall, clean-cut, his parents both had pensions, and he was the youngest attending physician in the hospital with a limitless future. He was kind to others, always ready to help, and possessed noble moral character. What a glowing review. I met him on a blind date. He didn’t smoke or drink. His superiors valued him, and he was wholly dedicated to his patients, practically living in the hospital all year round without a day off, dedicating his life to his work. Except I didn’t know back then that this selfless dedication required draining his entire family’s blood and flesh, using his daughter’s life as stepping stones to build Liam’s legacy. 5 After returning home, I quickly found a divorce lawyer to draft an agreement. The house we currently lived in had surged in value over the years, but it was in Liam’s name. The monthly mortgage could be half-covered by his housing fund. To divorce Liam as quickly as possible, I didn’t plan on fighting for it. With that settled, the remaining assets could be written out in a few words. Even I found it ridiculous. A marriage of over ten years had long become a pile of rubble, yet I had been blind to it, desperately trying to maintain it, ultimately costing Lily her life. When Liam came home that night, I was sitting on the sofa. He looked at the empty dining table, no longer maintaining the righteous facade he wore at the hospital, looking very dissatisfied. “Did you not make dinner?” I sneered. “I’m about to divorce you. Are you still expecting me to cook for you?” Liam frowned. “Are you still hung up on that? Chloe is just a child. She was joking.” He looked at me with the scrutinizing gaze of someone examining a criminal. “Chloe had to be resuscitated several times today because you provoked her. Her surgery, which was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, now has to be postponed.” “You should be glad Mia is kind and isn’t holding you accountable.” He instructed, “Do this: go apologize to Mia tomorrow. It’ll help smooth things over.” I actually laughed out of anger. “Apologize to her? Does she think she’s the Queen of England? Do you think you’re the King?” “The divorce papers are right here. Sign them, and you can focus on taking care of your precious Chloe in peace.” Liam didn’t even look at them, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have surgery tomorrow. I don’t want to fight with you.” “My emotional state will affect my performance in tomorrow’s surgery. You should know that.” I stood up, looking at him acting like the most important person in the world. The shadow of Lily’s death in my past life seemed to wash over me again. I picked up the agreement and threw it in his face. “Liam, believe me, an uncontested divorce is the last shred of dignity I’m giving you.” Those few thin sheets of paper carried no weight, but they made Liam unable to contain his anger any longer. “Chloe, marriage is not a game! You bring up divorce so casually. Do you have any sense of responsibility as a mother? Have you ever thought about our child?!” I sneered. “Child? Sorry, the way you were holding Chloe today was seen perfectly clearly by Lily.” “Does holding someone else’s child give you a great sense of accomplishment? May I ask, you highly responsible father, how many times have you held Lily?” Liam froze, looking toward Lily’s bedroom. The child stood there, motionless. He instantly switched back to his gentle expression. “Lily, come here.” He gently pulled Lily into a half-embrace. “Lily, you’re the most sensible one. Chloe has a bad heart. If she gets too agitated, she could be in life-threatening danger at any moment.” “But Daddy, my health is bad too. Mommy cries secretly all the time.” Lily held Liam’s hand. “Daddy, I’ll be strong. So can you love Mommy too, please?” Liam smiled. “Of course Daddy loves Mommy. But Mommy isn’t as sensible as you. She doesn’t understand Daddy’s position at all. Today, she even caused a little friend to faint. Tomorrow, let’s go with Mommy to apologize, okay?” He expected Lily to echo his logic. Instead, Lily pulled her hand back, slowly retreating to lean against my leg. “Mommy is the best! She’s not being insensible!” Lily looked at me, her voice trembling with tears. “Mommy shouldn’t go apologize. Mommy didn’t do anything wrong!” I pulled Lily into my arms, taking advantage of Liam being off guard to kick him over. Son of a bitch, trying to emotionally blackmail our daughter already. Liam fell hard on his ass, taking a long time to react. After a while, he cursed, “Look at how you’ve raised Lily!” 6 Speaking of which, Lily’s illness mainly required careful management, and her mood was the absolute priority. After yelling a few times in the living room last night, Liam went to sleep as if nothing had happened. That made sense. To him, anything I said was always the least important thing. At home, Lily clearly relaxed a lot. She woke up after a good sleep. “Lily, are you hungry? What do you want to eat? Tell Mommy.” Lily clearly hesitated for a moment, but still looked hopeful. “I want KFC.” I felt happy. At this time, my daughter hadn’t completely closed herself off like in my past life, walking on eggshells even to make a simple request. I readily agreed. While waiting for the delivery, I gave my daughter a good bath. Touching her frail, bony body, my heart ached. “Mommy promises, I will always protect Lily from now on.” My daughter nodded happily. While we were eating our takeout, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. My daughter’s back stiffened. I looked over. It was Liam’s mother, my mother-in-law, Martha. She was a retired elementary school teacher. She didn’t live with us, and in the past, she treated me decently. However, after I had Lily and didn’t plan on having any more children, her attitude turned cold after several unsuccessful attempts to change my mind. Seeing the fried chicken on the table, she immediately used that annoying, high-pitched voice. “Didn’t they say this is all junk food? Why are you letting Lily eat this?” She walked over and picked up a chicken wing, starting to gnaw on it. Lily obediently called out, “Grandma. Mommy says you have to wash your hands before eating.” Martha rolled her eyes at me. “You just spoil her.” “A little dirt never hurt anyone!” Saying that, Martha used her greasy hand to pick up a chicken wing to feed Lily. I picked my daughter up and moved her aside. “She’s had enough for today.” Martha wasn’t stupid. She knew what I meant. She immediately stood up and scolded me. “What do you mean by that? Do you think my hands are dirty, or do you think I have a disease?” My daughter nervously grabbed the hem of my shirt. I stroked her little head and looked calmly at Martha. “Both.” Martha pointed at me in shock. “You, you, you…” She stuttered for a long time, unable to form a single word. I finished her thought: “—You should probably go to the hospital for a check-up if you have nothing better to do!” Since I had already decided to divorce Liam, why should I keep tolerating his horrible mother? 7 Martha was a firm believer in the parenting methods of decades past. Lily was prone to allergies, especially to mangoes. Yet, she repeatedly tried to feed them to my daughter, arguing self-righteously that once her body got used to mangoes, her constitution would be ‘fixed.’ She would gloat, “Liam used to refuse to eat cucumbers too, but I corrected that.” Later, I couldn’t take it anymore. After she secretly fed my daughter mangoes again, I held Lily, who was covered in itchy hives, and laid down the law: “How you raised your son is your business! But my daughter will be spoiled! If she’s allergic to something, she won’t eat it!” My daughter’s high fever had scared her. At the time, she stayed silent. But in front of Liam, she continued to complain: “Chloe is just looking down on me. She thinks I can’t teach her right. Does she think I’d actually harm the child? Feed her a few more times, and her constitution will change.” “Now look, all that effort wasted.” I asked Liam. He was a doctor; it was impossible for him not to know how ignorant those old beliefs were. I thought I couldn’t persuade his mother, so I asked him to step in. I never expected Liam to actually say: “That actually makes some sense. It can boost her immune system.” He pointed to himself. “I’m a living example.” I cursed him out right then and there. “Are you blind? Did you not see our daughter get a high fever several times because of this?!” Every time, Martha would feed her random food and then slip away. I was the only one left to deal with the subsequent allergic reactions Lily suffered. Martha had her own pension. After that ugly argument, she rarely came looking for me. We didn’t live together. Her coming over now… I knew exactly what she was here for. With a monthly pension of $2,000, she was addicted to playing mahjong. She was definitely short on cash. In the past, whenever she needed money, she would come to me. This time, I pissed her off in just a few sentences, and she even forgot to ask for money. Perfect. I wasn’t going to spend another dime on Liam’s family. But thinking of her reminded me of my nanny.

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  • Whispers in the Dark

    When Elias Sterling, the untouchable scion, hit rock bottom, I used a hearing aid to lure him into my bed. He always despised flashy, ostentatious women like me. But I loved taking off his hearing aid in bed, whispering the things he hated most, and forcing him into the most compromising positions. Later, when he made his comeback, the childhood sweetheart he had been engaged to regretted leaving and came crawling back. They announced their engagement. Afraid Elias would finally retaliate once he realized what I’d done, I made a swift decision and flew across the ocean. It was only when I heard he was happily married with a daughter that I finally felt safe enough to return home. But who could have guessed? The moment I stepped out of the airport, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was dragged into a waiting car. That day, I begged for mercy until my voice went hoarse. But Elias just took off his hearing aid, casually tossed it out the window, gripped my waist, and chuckled hoarsely. “It’s no use, Princess. I can’t hear you.” 01 The room was lit only by a dim, amber nightlight. Under its glow, Elias’s sharp, refined features held an extra hint of allure. I hooked my arms around his neck and lazily commanded, “Kiss me.” Elias’s eyes darkened, and he lowered his head without a second thought. As our lips met, the intimate sound of our kiss seemed magnified in the quiet room. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was only when I couldn’t catch my breath and kicked his leg that Elias reluctantly let me go. Our eyes met, our breathing suddenly scorching. His gaze was deep, and he leaned in to kiss me again. I dodged him. “Coming home this late? Which little girl was keeping you busy?” I put on a demanding facade. Elias’s cool fingers pinched the back of my neck. His voice was still raspy. “There’s no little girl. I was negotiating with a partner the whole time.” “That’s more like it.” I kissed the corner of his mouth as a reward. Elias turned his head, capturing my lips in a desperate kiss. His other hand was already reaching for my shoulder strap. I stopped his hand. “You’re late. No exceptions.” I turned and sat on the sofa, gently kneading his earlobe, whispering softly, “Your punishment is to kneel and serve me tonight.” As the last word fell, I took off his hearing aid and tossed it onto the nearby table. Elias didn’t like girls who were too bold, and he absolutely hated girls who were too open. Coincidentally, I was both bold and open. So, I really enjoyed taking off his hearing aid in bed and leaning close to his ear to say whatever shameless things came to mind. After all, once the hearing aid was off, he couldn’t hear a thing. 02 I had coveted Elias Sterling for years. In college, he was the untouchable golden boy, always inseparable from his childhood sweetheart and fiancée. During the day, I watched them go to class together, and at night, I practically consulted tarot cards and horoscopes, praying for them to argue and break up. When they were still going strong in grad school, I had to settle for a boyfriend who looked a bit like him just to satisfy the craving. I thought I’d never get a chance in this lifetime, but then the Sterling family suddenly faced a crisis. His father’s business failed, and under immense pressure, he committed suicide. His mother witnessed the jump and suffered a sudden heart attack, ending up in the ICU. Elias, who was out of state, rushed back upon hearing the news, only to get into a car accident that left him deaf. His childhood sweetheart chose to move abroad with her parents at that time, not leaving a single word behind. The former golden boy fell from grace, so destitute he couldn’t even afford a hearing aid. When I heard the news, I immediately dumped my boyfriend, ended my vacation, and flew back. Everyone thought I was going to be Elias’s savior. But I wasn’t. I was there to take advantage of his misfortune. 03 When I found Elias, he was in a cramped, rundown apartment. I tossed a hearing aid and a few bank cards in front of him, then typed a sentence on my phone for him to read. “Sleep with me, and all this is yours.” Elias glanced at me, his eyes dead and devoid of any emotion, like someone who had given up fighting against a miserable life. It wasn’t until we rolled into bed that my head was still spinning. The man I had dreamed about for years was now naked, holding me, and kissing me. Who wouldn’t be dizzy? Especially since… I bit my lower lip, sneaking a glance, and sighed inwardly. Having settled for that knockoff for so many years, I really was starved. “Is it uncomfortable?” Seeing me distracted, Elias thought his technique was lacking. “No.” I smiled, leaned close to his ear, and whispered something so explicit it would make any decent person blush. He frowned deeply and suddenly pulled his head back, distancing himself a bit. Only then did I remember: Elias had always deeply despised girls who were overly forward with their affection, to the point where he couldn’t even muster a polite rejection. He probably preferred gentle, dignified girls. I wasn’t that, but his childhood sweetheart was. Since he didn’t like hearing me talk, then I wouldn’t let him hear. I reached up, took off the hearing aid that was already slick with sweat from his ear, and threw it on the floor. I’m not going to suffer for anyone. Running my hands over Elias’s abs, I spouted whatever nonsense I wanted without restraint. 04 It had been four years, and Elias had been trained by me to be very well-behaved. If I made a sound, he knew whether to go lighter or heavier. Even if he occasionally got carried away and lost control, he never crossed my bottom line. The downside of having a perfect bed partner was that I woke up late and didn’t get to see Elias deliver my birthday surprise in person. I picked up the small box on the nightstand and opened it gently. Inside was a simple silver ring, plain and unadorned. I carefully slipped the silver ring onto my ring finger. Not too big, not too small. It fit perfectly, like it was custom-made. I held up my hand, admiring it happily in the sunlight. It wasn’t until the housekeeper, Maria, called from downstairs that breakfast was getting cold that I reluctantly put my hand down. “Maria, does it look good?” Once downstairs, I happily spun around, holding out my right hand to show off to Maria. “Elias gave it to me.” “It’s beautiful, very beautiful.” Maria knew how much I liked Elias. She teased, “I didn’t see you this happy when Mr. Sterling sent over bags, clothes, and sports cars. But this little silver band, you treat it like a treasure.” “It’s different!” I sat on the sofa, opening my phone while retorting to Maria, “Because it’s from Elias…” A photo popping up on my Instagram feed made me go silent. It was Chloe, the childhood sweetheart who had been engaged to Elias, whom I hadn’t heard from in years. In the photo, Chloe wore a long dress, her finger adorned with a massive diamond ring, holding a thin card. Written on the card was a touching romantic phrase: “Thinking of you in the quiet moments, everything feels incredible.” And behind her, Elias—who had left early saying he had an emergency—was turned away from the camera, looking down to adjust his cufflinks, his profile gentle. The caption read: “Turns out, even icebergs can say sweet nothings.” Elias’s friends, who usually ignored me, left comments. “No wonder he wouldn’t let us pick her up. His heart was already there.” “The golden boy bending the knee for you. Chloe, you’re the best.” “I’ve been waiting for your wedding invitations forever. Give us a date already.” Chloe replied to the last comment: “Soon. When the time comes, I’ll have Elias ask you to be a groomsman.” I stared at Chloe’s pigeon-egg diamond ring for a long time. Then, I looked down at the plain silver band on my own hand. I don’t know how much time passed before a loud crash of thunder startled me. I turned to look out the window. The sky had turned dark, and a torrential downpour had begun outside. 05 When Elias returned, I was still in bed. The mattress dipped beside me. He pinched my ring finger and gently shook it. “Maria said you’ve been sleeping all day. Do you want to eat the pasta I made?” I didn’t look at him, just gave a slight nod. “Mia.” I was eating with my head down when Elias suddenly spoke up. “Why aren’t you wearing the ring I gave you? Do you not like it?” I paused, then replied evenly, “It’s fine. It’s just a bit too plain.” Actually, it was quite nice, but compared to Chloe’s, it was embarrassing to wear. The room fell silent, save for the ticking of the clock. After a long while, he finally said softly, “My new company is slowly getting off the ground. I’m negotiating a big deal recently. Once it’s successful, I can secure even more investment. “When the time comes, I’ll give you a better one, and buy that beachfront villa you like.” What did that mean? Chloe lives in the Sterling house, and I live by the beach? He wants to keep me as a mistress on the outside? I closed my eyes. Is this Elias’s revenge after his comeback? I treated him like a gigolo, so he gets married and treats me like a mistress, never letting me through the Sterling family’s door. If he actually succeeds, who knows what else he has waiting for me. Thinking about the things I had done and said to him in bed, I shivered violently. 06 Early the next morning, as soon as Elias left, I scrambled out of bed, ready to run. But the moment my feet hit the rug, my legs gave out, and I almost did a full bow. Cursing Elias in my head, I threw open the closet and frantically stuffed clothes into my suitcase. “Miss, where are you going so suddenly?” Maria asked, coming upstairs to clean. I didn’t even look up. “Running away… I mean, going on vacation. Return date TBD.” Before I left, I grabbed Maria and repeatedly warned her never to tell Elias where I went. If he asked, she was to tell him I went abroad to get married and tell him not to harass a married couple. After giving my instructions, I tossed my SIM card, deleted all my social media accounts, and hurried onto a flight across the ocean. … Five years passed in a flash. Maria told me Elias never got married, but he did have a daughter. I couldn’t believe he was so traditional deep down! I almost felt sorry for Chloe. It’s the 21st century, and they’re still playing the “have a son before you get the title” game. Who knows how much she has to suffer marrying him. It had been so long. Elias was now a new business tycoon in the country, with a wife and daughter. He had probably long forgotten me. So, I didn’t tell anyone and quietly slipped back into the country. But who could have guessed? The moment I stepped out of the airport, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was dragged into a car. The man’s embrace was hard and burning hot. His rough fingers traced the silver ring I was wearing, and a low, ambiguous chuckle vibrated in his throat. “Princess, didn’t you go abroad to get married? Why are you still wearing the ring I gave you on your ring finger?” 07 It had been five years, and Elias had changed so much I barely recognized him. He used to love white dress shirts, looking clean and crisp. When his eyelashes drooped, he looked so innocent and pure, it drove me crazy. Now, there was no stray hair on his forehead. Dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, his brow was sharp and cold, making people weak in the knees with just a glance. He kept tracing my ring finger. It felt like a fire starting from my knuckle, gradually spreading. The temperature in the car kept rising. I shrank into the corner, too afraid to even breathe loudly. Elias chuckled, loosened his tie with one hand, and looked at me with an air of absolute control. “Mia Sterling, is your husband so poor he can’t even afford a decent ring?” I couldn’t stand his arrogant, victorious look. I shot back: “I am the only daughter of the Sterling family. Even if my husband were a pile of mud, I could prop him up. No need for Mr. Sterling to worry. As for the ring, I was in a rush today and just grabbed the wrong one by accident.” Watching Elias’s face grow darker, I laughed lightly: “Mr. Sterling, you don’t think I still have feelings for you, do you?” The grip on my wrist suddenly loosened. I seized the opportunity to open the car door and make a run for it, but I was yanked back again. “The ring. Give it back.” Elias’s voice was a bit hoarse, his dark eyes like a deep pool, suppressing a surging storm. “This is mine!” I instinctively protected the ring. He still wouldn’t let me go, saying flatly, “What kind of ring does the Sterling heiress not have? This silver ring is too plain, it doesn’t suit you. It’s better if you give it back to me, lest you grab the wrong one again.” Even at his lowest, he wanted to buy the best ring for Chloe. Now that he had won back the one he loved, he wouldn’t even let me keep this simple silver band. Looking at Elias’s cold, heavy expression, my eyes stung. I gritted my teeth, pulled off the ring, and threw it at his chest. “Take it back! Go find someone who matches it! I, Mia Sterling, don’t care!” Without looking at him again, I fiercely shook off his hand and got out of the car without looking back. 08 When I got home, a friend from our circle called, saying they had organized a welcome-back dinner for me at a hotel and asking when I’d arrive. I looked at my still-red eyes in the mirror, ground my teeth, and said: “I don’t want to eat at a hotel. I’m going to a bar to find someone to cook for me.” Flynn took me to his own bar. The lights in the bar were chaotic. He casually pulled a hot girl from the dance floor into his arms and called out to me: “Tell me if you see anyone you like. It’s my place, don’t be shy.” I swirled my drink, walked a lap, and returned to the booth, uninterested. “No one caught your eye?” Flynn, looking satisfied after a kiss, rubbed the waist of the woman in his arms and joked with me: “Princess, how about you consider me? I have money, plenty of dating experience, and I’ll never let you feel wronged.” I couldn’t be bothered to reply, but the woman in his arms took it seriously. “Flynn, your wedding ring is so hard, it’s hurting me.” “Spoiled brat.” Flynn casually tossed the wedding ring onto the coffee table, gave the woman a firm pat on the lower back, and spoke suggestively, “Is it still hard now? Hmm?” I couldn’t listen anymore. I stood up, ready to find another spot. Before I left, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flynn’s wedding ring lying abandoned among fruit peels and trash. I paused and added one more thing: “Put the ring away. Sarah will be angry if she finds out.” Flynn lifted his head from the woman’s embrace and scoffed. “If she’s angry, she can leave. Do I look like I’m afraid of her?” Being in the same circle, it wasn’t good to be too explicit. Having said my piece, I didn’t offer any more advice. I turned and walked out of the private room, which was already filled with suggestive sighs. 09 I found a slightly quieter spot and sat drinking alone. Guys kept coming up to hit on me, one after another, but every single one of them looked like a train wreck to me. I couldn’t even bear to look. “Mia.” I don’t know how long I had been drinking, but an angry voice suddenly rang out. I groggily raised my head, squinted for a long time, and suddenly frowned: “You look really familiar.” “Heh.” The man sneered and pulled me into his arms: “Look closer. Even more familiar now?” I blinked my eyes, everything a distorted blur, and blurted out: “It’s true! Handsome, you look just like my husband.” “Mia, just how many husbands do you have?” he asked, grinding his teeth. I rubbed my burning face against his cool chest, sweet nothings tumbling out effortlessly: “Only one husband. I don’t want anyone else, just you.” He seemed too lazy to argue with a drunk. He picked me up and walked out. But I wasn’t behaving. My hands kept sneaking under his clothes. Squeezing here, touching there. In that short walk, Elias broke out in a sweat. “Mia, if you keep touching me, I can’t guarantee there won’t be an accident.” He threw his jacket over my head and pressed me tightly against his chest, stopping me from moving. With my arms pinned, I looked at his bobbing Adam’s apple, blinked, and took a bite.

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  • Five Years Too Late

    In the fifth year of my engagement to Carter Harrison, he secretly threw an extravagant wedding for his mistress. When I arrived at the venue, they were passionately kissing amid the cheers of the crowd. Seeing me, Carter raised an eyebrow and smiled lazily. “The girl just wanted to experience a wedding. Don’t worry, we didn’t get the license.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I simply turned and walked away. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum—until the heir to the most powerful family in New York posted a picture of our marriage certificate on Instagram. Carter abandoned his mistress and banged furiously on my door. When I opened it, my face was still flushed, the remnants of passion lingering on my skin. “Don’t worry,” I said, echoing his words. “We just got the license. We haven’t had the wedding yet.” Liam Sterling, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, strolled down the stairs and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Oh? Does that mean I’m just your secret lover?” 01 The wedding reception was loud and chaotic. The guests below the stage cheered, urging the newlyweds to kiss. The girl in the wedding dress looked up shyly. Carter wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her in, deepening the kiss. I stared blankly at the two people passionately making out on stage. One of Carter’s groomsmen turned, saw me, and panicked. “Chloe.” In an instant, the rowdy atmosphere dropped into a dead, suffocating silence. I walked toward Carter. The young girl awkwardly tried to hide behind him. Carter didn’t look the least bit embarrassed about being caught by his fiancée. He wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist playfully, raising an eyebrow. “Mia was throwing a fit about wanting to marry me. Relax, we didn’t sign any papers. You’re the only one who will ever officially be Mrs. Harrison.” Carter and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. Right after college, our families arranged our engagement. He was famously a playboy in our social circle. He changed girlfriends like he changed clothes, completely humiliating me time and time again. I gave a faint smile. I pulled a small, square velvet box out of my purse. “This is the heirloom bracelet your family gives to their daughters-in-law. I’m returning it.” Carter took it, tossing it lightly in his hand. He laughed, a mocking sound. “You’re pulling out the heirloom bracelet just to break up with me this time?” I didn’t miss the absolute disbelief in his eyes. “Carter Harrison, as of today, our engagement is void. We are free to marry whoever we want. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” Carter’s face instantly darkened. “Chloe, say that again!” Seeing things escalate, his groomsman quickly stepped in. “Chloe, calm down. This wedding doesn’t count. Carter is just playing around. You’re the one he’s actually going to marry.” I had just watched my fiancé marry another woman in a massive, theatrical display. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I calmly turned and walked away. “Carter, you better go after her.” Carter spoke with absolute certainty. “What is there to go after? It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. Give her a few days, and she’ll come back behaving.” “You’ve never taken it this far before! No woman can handle seeing the man she loves marry someone else. I’m telling you, you should go check on her.” Carter glanced at the door, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. Mia suddenly tugged at his sleeve. “Can I see that bracelet?” 02 After leaving the venue, I called my best friend, Ava, and asked her to meet me at a bar for a few drinks. By the time she arrived, she looked at the two empty bottles of wine and immediately understood. “What’s going on? You fought with Carter again? Is it another celebrity this time, or a college student?” Hearing his name felt like needles piercing my heart. “He got married today.” After hearing the whole story, Ava grabbed an empty wine bottle, ready to go smash it over that scumbag’s head. “You should have dumped him years ago! I’ll add you to a group chat right now. It’s full of the most eligible, high-quality bachelors in our circle. Take your pick.” My phone suddenly started buzzing non-stop. I glanced at it. In less than a minute, over thirty guys had sent me friend requests. “I’m going to the restroom.” In the hallway, a man was leaning against the wall, smoking. He wore a suit that looked out of place in a club, the top few buttons of his shirt casually undone. He looked incredibly dangerous. Perhaps noticing my gaze, he frowned and looked over. Liam Sterling? What was he doing here? I walked over, offering a slight smile. “Mr. Sterling, got a spare cigarette?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you turned into the perfect, obedient good girl after getting together with Carter. Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out you smoke?” I didn’t say anything. He leaned in, his tone infuriatingly mocking. “I heard he threw a massive wedding for another woman today. Did you finally break up with him?” I reached out, taking the cigarette and lighter straight from his hand. I lit it expertly, blew out a soft cloud of smoke, and gave him a half-smile. “Liam, want to come to my place tonight?” Our eyes met. Between adults, the implication was crystal clear. Liam extinguished his cigarette and chuckled. I suddenly remembered he was famous in our circle for being completely uninterested in women. I was just about to say I was joking. I didn’t expect him to actually say yes. 03 Liam used my fingerprint to unlock the door, and the next second, he pinned me against it. His large hand cupped the back of my head, and he kissed me hard. “Chloe, are you part dog? Bite a little softer.” I frowned slightly. “Can you stop talking? At a time like this, your job is to make me unable to speak.” … For the entire night. Liam physically demonstrated the meaning of “careful what you wish for.” I finally fell asleep around dawn, only for my phone to start ringing. I couldn’t open my eyes, so I just blindly patted the bed, searching for it. A soft chuckle came from beside me. Liam found the phone. Seeing it was a FaceTime call from Carter, his expression instantly darkened. He handed me the phone and pulled the blanket up to cover my collarbone. I answered, forcing my sleep-heavy eyes half open. Carter smiled coldly. “Didn’t you say yesterday we had nothing to do with each other? How did it only take you one day to go crying to my mom about Mia?” “Who went to your mom? Are you psychotic?! Calling me at the crack of dawn to throw a tantrum!” As soon as I spoke, I froze. My voice was completely hoarse. Completely wrecked. Carter frowned in confusion. “Do you have a cold?” I smiled. “Why pretend you don’t know what this is?” He realized what I meant. His voice suddenly spiked, and he leaned close to his camera. “Where are you?! Who are you with?!” “Mr. Harrison, we have no relationship anymore. Where I am and who I’m with is none of your business.” I was too exhausted to keep talking, so I just hung up. At the bar, Carter’s face was livid. “Carter, did Chloe just hang up on you? Is she actually serious about breaking the engagement this time?” “No way! This is just her old trick to threaten him. If she really wanted to break it off, you think she could bear to actually do it?” “It’s obviously an act. She’s pretending to be with another guy to make you jealous, waiting for you to cave and go find her. It’s the oldest trick in the book.” The crowd laughed in agreement. Only then did Carter’s expression relax a little. 04 The phone call had ruined my sleep, waking me up just enough to be annoyed. I frowned in irritation. Liam watched me. “What is so great about Carter Harrison? He slept around before you were married, and he’s not going to be loyal after. He doesn’t deserve you.” I looked up, confused. ? Liam grabbed his cigarette box from the nightstand, tapped one out, lit it, and suddenly looked very serious. “If we’re talking about corporate alliances, the Sterling family is not inferior to the Harrison family.” “What are you trying to say, Mr. Sterling?” Liam glanced at me. “I know you’ve been trying to win the East District development project. But with your current resources alone, it’s going to be extremely difficult. If we get married and combine our power, it’ll be a walk in the park.” I was completely awake now. “With the Sterling Group’s capital, you could easily take the project for yourself. Why share a piece of the pie with me?” “Maybe I don’t want to sleep with you for free?” My mouth twitched. I thought for a few seconds, then extended my right hand. “Happy to be doing business with you.” Forty minutes later, Liam and I walked out of City Hall. Looking at the marriage certificate in my hand, I still felt like I was floating in a dream. “Let’s go.” “Huh? We’re going to see a client right now?” Liam reached out, patted my head, and laughed. “Honeymoon.” 05 We put on scuba gear and submerged into the deep blue ocean, surrounded by the mysterious beauty of the sea. Gorgeous coral reefs and schools of fish swam right past my hands. Liam made a hand signal, gesturing for me to look up. When I tilted my head back, I saw an ocean of stars filtering through the water. When we got back to the shore, the staff told me my phone had been ringing non-stop. I unlocked it, and dozens of messages flooded the screen. [Hello Miss Chloe, I am the manager of Vera Wang. When will you be available to come in for a dress fitting?] [Hello Miss Chloe, I am the lead wedding planner. What kind of flowers do you prefer? We need to arrange the air freight in advance.] [Hello Miss Chloe, Mr. Harrison ordered a custom diamond ring for you at our boutique. When can you come in to try it on? If the sizing isn’t right, we can adjust it.] Wedding dress? Flowers? Ring? The more I read, the tighter my brow furrowed. Was my phone number leaked? Just then, the phone rang again. I looked at the screen. It was Carter. “Hello!” He immediately started demanding answers. “Where are you? I’ve called you a million times and you didn’t pick up. Your company said you took a month off.” “Where I am is none of your business. Don’t forget we broke up.” Carter didn’t care. He actually laughed. “Are you just throwing a tantrum because I gave Mia a wedding? Fine, I’ll give you one too. You should have gotten the texts and calls from the planners. Just tell them what kind of dress and venue you want, and they’ll handle it.” I was speechless. “Are you insane?!” Even though I couldn’t see him, I could easily imagine the look on Carter’s face hearing that. “Chloe! You threw a fit about the wedding, so I agreed to throw you one too! What more do you want?! Enough is enough! Let me tell you, you only get this one chance. If you don’t want to marry me now, you can stay single for the rest of your life!” Carter was always like this. As long as he offered you a step down, if you didn’t take it immediately, it was entirely your fault. “You’re a psychopath. We broke up. Stop calling me. You can marry whoever the hell you want.” Carter said “Fine!” three times into the phone. “Chloe, I gave you a chance. You rejected it yourself. Don’t come crawling back.” Psycho! Liam finished changing his clothes. “Carter’s call?” I took a deep breath. “Yeah. He thinks I’m mad because of the wedding, so he thought throwing me one would fix it. I don’t know how I was blind enough to date him.” Liam smiled but didn’t say anything. For the next month. We went to Iceland to see the blue ice caves. We rode hot air balloons in Turkey. 06 The day I got back, Ava asked me out. I used several layers of concealer, but I still couldn’t cover the marks on my collarbone. I had to dig a silk scarf out of my closet and tie it around my neck. As soon as she sat down, she downed two glasses of wine. “I am so mad! Carter Harrison has officially lost his mind. He bought out every billboard in Times Square just to play a birthday video from A-list celebrities for that girl… Mia whatever-her-name-is. And he’s playing it on loop for a month! Does he even care about how you feel?!” I held my glass, my tone calm. “I got married.” Ava didn’t believe me at first, until she saw the picture of the marriage certificate. “Liam Sterling! “Isn’t he famous for hating women?! How did you bag him?!” “Never mind that, the point is Carter doesn’t even compare to him. I really want to see the look on Carter’s face when he finds out you married Liam.” Her anger vanished instantly. “We need to celebrate. Drinks are on me tonight.” Ava was a lightweight. After a few bottles, she was completely dizzy. I put my glass down. “Stay here. I’m going to go order you some hangover tea.” In the hallway, I bumped into Liam’s friend, Noah. He hurried over, acting overly friendly. “Chloe, you’re here! Carter and the guys are in VIP Room 6.” “Carter and I have nothing to do with each other anymore. Just call me by my name. Have fun, guys.” Noah just assumed I was still mad. “What Carter did was out of line, I know. But just give him a chance to apologize to your face! We’re in Room 6, I’ll head back first. Come over whenever you’re ready!” To get back to Room 3, I had to walk past Room 6. I heard a familiar voice. I stopped at the door and looked through the crack. Carter was leaning lazily against the sofa, his shirt unbuttoned halfway. Mia’s lips were swollen red. Anyone with eyes could tell what had just happened. “Carter, I just ran into Chloe outside. See? I told you she couldn’t let you go.” “I didn’t expect her to hold out this long without contacting you.” “It’s only been a month. She probably heard you were throwing a birthday party for another girl and couldn’t take it anymore. So she came running.” Carter looked indifferent. “Who told her to come? We already broke up.” “Alright, enough. This is the first time she’s gone this long without calling you. Don’t push it until you can’t fix it.” “Yeah! Carter, you should probably tell this girl to leave. You don’t want Chloe getting mad again when she walks in.” Carter looked sideways at the obedient Mia next to him. She kept her head down, her voice weak. “Carter, today is my birthday…” I touched the silk scarf tied around my neck, took it off, and pushed the door open. Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped to me. The marks on my neck were far too obvious. Even in the dim club lighting, Carter saw them immediately. He shot up from the couch, his eyes narrowing. “What is on your neck?” Thinking of Liam acting like a rabid dog last night, leaving marks all over me. I smiled and said, “Hickies.” Carter kicked the table next to him, the dark fury in his eyes impossible to miss. “Who did it?! Chloe, are you seriously going behind my back to find other men?!” “Who did it is none of your business. Carter, a good ex should act like he’s dead.” He sneered. “Chloe, if I ever contact you again, I’m a fucking dog!” Ava drank her hangover tea and asked, “What took you so long? I was about to come looking for you.” Hearing the sound of things smashing in the room next door, I said, “Just tying up a loose end. I don’t want flies buzzing around me anymore. It’s annoying! Let’s go!” Since we both drank, we called an Uber. 07 Not long after. The girl Carter had thrown the wedding for graduated and officially entered the entertainment industry. Once she gained a little traction, she actually hired a bot army to flood my company’s official social media accounts. [Mr. Harrison treats Mia so differently. He was willing to throw her the wedding of the century.] [Forget the wedding, he bought her a pink diamond without even blinking.] [I advise someone to just let it go peacefully. Stop shamelessly holding onto the title of fiancée.] [In a relationship, the unloved one is the real homewrecker. Would it kill you to just step aside and let Mr. Harrison be with Mia?] My assistant handed me the tablet. “Miss Chloe, should we delete the comments guiding the narrative?” “Find all of Mia’s dirty laundry and leak it to the paparazzi. Then notify every media company we partner with: they are strictly forbidden from giving her any resources.” “Understood. I’ll get on it right away. But what if Mr. Harrison tries to interfere?” “Ignore him. Just do what I told you.” An hour later, Mia’s comment section was a warzone: [You homewrecker! It’s one thing to sneak around in the dark, but how dare you openly provoke the actual fiancée!] [I went to college with Mia. She acts all sweet and innocent, but she used her family’s money to lead the bullying against me. I have burn scars all over my arms from her. And she stole an award that was supposed to go to my team.] [So she was always like this in school too? I was her stand-in on set. Unless it was a shot that explicitly needed her face, she made me do everything else. She didn’t even shoot a third of her own scenes. She relied entirely on stand-ins and post-production editing.] [I was her assistant. We had a scene where she had to go into the water to retrieve an item. She complained the water was too dirty and forced the crew to buy bottled mineral water to fill a pool before she would get in. I’ve been an assistant for A-listers, and I’ve never been this exhausted.] [I think the worst one is Carter Harrison! Changing girlfriends every few days. Men like him belong in the trash.]

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  • Blood and Canvas: Phoebe’s Redemption

    Jude Sterling and I were both heralded as genius painters. From the time we were toddlers, we were rivals, constantly fighting for the top spot in every gallery and competition. That was until I walked in on a girl defacing his submission for a prestigious national contest. Instead of being angry, he laughed, kissed her, and called it a “naughty little penalty.” He had fallen for a “broken” girl from the wrong side of the tracks—Chloe Miller. For her, he skipped classes, dropped out, ran away from home, and eventually prepared to give up painting altogether. Behind his back, that girl blackmailed me. She told me she’d dump him if I paid her off. I didn’t want to see him rot. I paid. But Jude spent the rest of his life hating me for it. He crushed my hands—the hands that held my future—ensuring I could never paint again. He drove my parents to their graves and left me in the gutters while he climbed to the top of the art world on the back of my silence. I opened my eyes and found myself back at the peak of their toxic, whirlwind romance. This time, I won’t stop him. This time, he can have his “true love” and his ruin. I’m picking up my brush to take back my throne. 01 Two people. One studio. I stopped just outside the door. I knew exactly who was in there: Jude Sterling and Chloe Miller. In my past life, this was the day I accidentally stumbled upon their secret. Jude and I were childhood friends. We lived next door to each other, both cursed—or blessed—with extreme talent. We grew up in the same studios, went to the same exhibits, and eventually got into the same elite Art Institute on full-ride scholarships. But we were also enemies. We never conceded to one another. We fought for every blue ribbon, every “Best in Show.” We were the rivals that defined each other. Everyone assumed we’d end up together. Our parents joked about a wedding being a “merger of empires.” Jude never denied it; he even told his friends he was going to ask me out formally after graduation. But he broke that promise. I walked in to find him pinned against a drafting table, kissing a complete stranger. This was our private studio. Jude’s mother had built it specifically for the two of us. No one else was allowed inside. Yet there she was, Chloe, laughing as she knocked over jars of expensive pigment, turning the pristine space into a chaotic mess. Jude, usually a clinical perfectionist, didn’t care. If I so much as moved a charcoal sketch an inch out of place, Jude would fly into a rage. He didn’t let anyone touch his drafts. He didn’t allow food in the studio. He was a man of a thousand rules and “don’ts.” I used to think that was just his temperament. Now I realized he only enforced those rules on me. Even as Chloe took a brush and started doodling graffiti over his canvas—a piece he had spent months preparing for the National Youth Exhibit—Jude only feigned annoyance. He gripped her waist, kissed her hard, and whispered that it was a “penalty.” That was his masterpiece. The one he’d labored over through dozens of drafts. The deadline was the next day. He had no time to start over. This was the competition of a decade. Missing it was professional suicide. We had both been so confident. We had even made plans to use the prize money to travel to Maine and paint the autumn leaves together. In my past life, I was furious. I stormed in, snatched the draft from Chloe’s hands, and screamed at her for being reckless. And Jude? His face went cold. He shoved me back and shielded her. “What’s it to you, Phoebe?” he spat. “Mind your own business.” 02 That was the first time in twenty years Jude had ever used that tone with me. We ended in a bitter standoff. That day, Chloe didn’t just ruin his canvas. She took my finished painting, folded it into a paper airplane, and tossed it into the industrial sink, letting the water wash the oils away. Their “paper airplane” was a romantic gesture of rebellion. My life’s work was a soggy mess. I stayed up all night trying to salvage it, but the version I submitted was rushed and amateur. I was rejected. The competition I had prepared for my entire life ended in a pathetic whimper. Both Jude and I were cut in the first round. My work was sloppy; his was covered in Chloe’s doodles. Our professors and peers were in shock. They couldn’t believe the two “prodigies” had failed so spectacularly. They demanded answers. I said I just had a bad day. Jude told them I had ruined his painting. He didn’t want Chloe to face the faculty’s wrath, so he made me the scapegoat. The rumor mill at the Institute went wild. They said I was jealous because Jude was the favorite to win, so I sabotaged him. No matter how much I explained, no one believed me. Jude’s word was law. While I was drowning in rumors and the shame of “letting down the school,” Jude took Chloe on a road trip to see the maples in the North. He posted a photo of their hands intertwined against a backdrop of red leaves with the caption: Youth is meant for romance, not just rules. 03 The biggest mistake I made in my last life was trying to pull Jude out of the mud as he slowly sank. So, standing before the studio door again, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed it open, walked straight to my corner, and began packing my supplies. I ignored them completely, treating them like shadows. I am not saving him this time. Jude saw me and instinctively tried to hide Chloe behind him. When he realized I wasn’t even looking at them, a flash of confusion crossed his eyes. Chloe peeked from behind him, tugging at his shirt. “Jude? Is that your childhood friend?” She lowered her head, acting small and intimidated. “She’s so pretty. Why… why are you with me instead of her?” Jude snapped out of his daze, squeezed her hand, and glared at me. “Babe, don’t say that. You’re ruining the mood.” Looking at them—one a liar who broke a twenty-year promise, the other a girl who knew exactly what she was doing—made me want to gag. I walked toward them. Jude braced himself. “Phoebe, what are you doing?” He expected me to be jealous. He expected a scene. He expected me to try and tear them apart. I pulled the spare key to the Sterling estate out of my pocket and slammed it onto his table. “Here’s your key. I won’t be coming here to practice with you anymore. Also, I hope you two are very happy together.” I turned and walked out. Jude stood there, stunned by my indifference. This time, I sent my carefully prepared draft to the exhibit early. It was a masterpiece. It won the Grand Prize. With the grant money in my pocket, I invited my real friends to go see the autumn foliage. The mountains were a sea of fire under the sunset. Meanwhile, Jude was cut in the first round. It was the scandal of the year. People noticed the graffiti on his canvas and suspected foul play. Just like before, Jude tried to pin it on me to protect Chloe. But this time, I waited until the accusations were at their peak. I returned to the Institute and played a recording on the big screen in the lounge. It showed Chloe playfully stamping paint-covered handprints on Jude’s easel while Jude laughed and called her “cute,” letting her smear his work into oblivion. Silence followed the video. Then, the uproar began. 04 Jude was exposed as a liar. The faculty was livid. The master painter the Sterling family had hired to mentor him resigned on the spot. Jude’s parents were furious. They found out about his secret relationship and looked into Chloe’s background—a dropout from a community college with a reputation for being a “black widow” who used guys for their money. They demanded he break up with her. But now that the secret was out, Jude leaned into the drama. He became the “tortured artist” fighting for love. The more his parents pushed, the more he rebelled. He started skipping classes to be with her. In my past life, I did his homework. I took notes for him. I recorded lectures. I did his group projects just so he wouldn’t fail out. He never thanked me. I once saw him throw my painstakingly written notes into a trash can without reading a single page. He used to drag me along on his dates with Chloe just to use me as a cover for his parents. I was the one who got yelled at by our families and teachers for “distracting” him. There was a massive apprenticeship exam coming up. The winner would become the personal protégé of a world-renowned master—an opportunity that could define a career. Everyone was grinding. Every second was worth gold. I stopped caring about his whereabouts. I kept to my schedule: studio, library, cafeteria, bed. I lived a “boring” life while they lived their “romance.” Jude, meanwhile, spent his parents’ money taking Chloe on cruises and buying her designer bags and watches. Without me to fix his messes, his grades tanked. He was put on academic probation. Everyone who once admired him was now disappointed. But Jude didn’t care. He had his “precious love.” Chloe eventually cried to him: “Your parents think I’m not good enough for you.” Jude went home, had a screaming match with his father, and threatened to run away and give up painting if they didn’t accept her. The exam was days away. Jude announced he was quitting art to “live for love.” 05 Jude’s parents were at their wit’s end. They came to me, begging me to talk sense into him. “Phoebe, you grew up with him. You have a bond. He won’t listen to us, but maybe he’ll listen to you.” Mrs. Sterling, once the picture of elegance, now had grey hairs peeking through. Her makeup couldn’t hide her exhaustion. She looked exactly like my mother did in my past life—aged twenty years in a few months. In the previous timeline, I had gone to Jude. I had begged him to be rational. He had pulled Chloe close, kissed her in front of me, and looked at me with disgust. “Phoebe, you’re pathetic,” he had said. He didn’t know that Chloe had already come to me. She had demanded a “settlement” of fifty thousand dollars to leave him. And I, desperate to save Jude’s career, had paid it. I did it because I respected him as a rival. I didn’t want to see a genius rot. I wanted to beat him fairly on the canvas. Chloe took the money and dumped him that very night. Jude, who had never touched a drop of alcohol, got blackout drunk and trashed his apartment. We all thought the nightmare was over. But right before Chloe boarded her flight, she called Jude. She sobbed into the phone: “Phoebe gave me money to leave you. She forced me out.” She didn’t mention the money his parents gave her. She didn’t mention it was a shakedown. She told a half-truth that made me the villain. Jude chose to believe her sob story over the recording I tried to show him. Then, her plane crashed. She died at the height of their “tragic romance.” Jude spent the rest of his life mourning her and hating me. 06 The day the news of the crash hit, Jude broke into my house. His eyes were venomous. “Are you happy now, Phoebe? Is this what you wanted?” I tried to calm him down, but he shoved me. Our house had a beautiful, decorative spiral staircase. The railing was low. I went over the side. I broke an arm and both legs. Jude’s parents apologized. They paid for my bills. They visited every day. But Jude never showed up once. The apprenticeship exam came. I wasn’t healed. My mother begged me to let it go. “Your arm hasn’t set yet, Phoebe.” But I couldn’t. I had worked so hard. I ripped out my IV, put on a coat, and snuck out of the hospital. I made it to the exam hall late, disheveled and pale. The Master was watching. He looked at my messy hair and my lateness with a frown. In his world, discipline was respect. I had already failed the first impression. I sat down, picked up the brush, and realized my right hand was shaking uncontrollably. I painted through the blinding pain. There was no miracle. My work was a mess. The Master’s critique was brutal: “Shaky technique. No foundation.” I tried to explain my injury, and the Master almost relented, seeing my passion. But then, a voice from the corner of the room sneered: “How can we trust her? She’s the one who defaced her rival’s work to win the last contest.” My reputation was already ruined. The crowd agreed. I was kicked out. Jude won the top spot. He became the Master’s protégé. The Sterling family threw a gala that was the talk of the town. When I was discharged from the hospital, no one was there. My parents were away on business; my “friends” were all at Jude’s party. I walked home alone in the winter cold, looking at the white lines on the road. Our lives had been parallel for twenty years. Now, they were diverging. He was going up; I was going down. He was the sun; I was the abyss. 07 Jude became a global star. He studied in Paris and Florence. His solo shows sold out in minutes. He was the golden boy of the new generation. I didn’t even graduate. I was framed for a series of plagiarism scandals. The evidence was “ironclad.” I was expelled. It was Jude. He used his new influence to bury me, a slow-burn revenge for Chloe. His parents moved to Europe, leaving Jude in control of the family’s domestic business. He used that power to crush my parents’ startup. We weren’t old money. My parents were self-made. They couldn’t survive a targeted attack by a conglomerate. The company went under. My father was left with millions in debt. We sold the house. We moved into a cramped apartment in the outskirts of the city. I had to give up painting to work three jobs just to keep us fed. In the dead of night, I would sneak into the kitchen to look at my old drafts. Sometimes, I would hide in the bathroom and sketch with a cheap pencil on napkins. It was my only solace in a life of misery. 08 Then, my father died. He had been hiding a heart condition to save money on meds. One day, he just didn’t wake up. My mother fell into a deep depression, which triggered a latent cancer. As I was struggling to pay for her chemo, Jude appeared. I hadn’t seen him in years. He was wearing a Patek Philippe watch and a bespoke suit. He looked like a king from another world. I was holding a bag of discounted frozen bread. I had never felt more humiliated. He was wearing an old, frayed hair tie on his wrist—Chloe’s. Even amidst all his luxury, he kept that piece of trash as a memorial. He mocked my “decrepit” furniture. Then he made an offer. “I’ll give you a million dollars. On one condition.” A million. It was enough to save my mother. I agreed. 09 His condition was demonic. He wanted me to personally, by my own hand, destroy my right hand. He wanted to ensure the “genius” could never paint again. He wanted to kill my soul. I stared at him. He was more vicious than I ever imagined. “Well?” he asked coldly. “Do you want the money or not?” I thought of my mother’s hospital bills. I nodded. But as I hesitated to pick up the hammer, Jude lost his patience. He smashed a glass jar and drove the jagged edge deep into the back of my hand. He looked at me with pure hatred. “If it weren’t for you, Chloe would be alive. “We would have been happy. “You say she only wanted money. Look at you now. Selling your soul for a check. “You were always jealous of her. You’re a monster, Phoebe.” My hand was a bloody mess. I didn’t make a sound. “Remember,” Jude said, “you earned this.” He walked out. He never sent the money. My mother tried to go to his office to demand it, but the security guards threw her out. The stress killed her within a week. 10 My hand never recovered. It remained weak, scarred, and useless. I sold my childhood trophies to pay for my mother’s funeral. She died on a day she had spent her last strength buying groceries to make me a “celebratory” dinner. I came home to find her cold, with a table full of food she’d never eat. I eventually died in a fire on the anniversary of Chloe’s death. I suspect Jude had something to do with it. In my final moments, I regretted everything. I regretted saving him from himself. I regretted letting him steal my glory.

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  • Captive to the Psycho Billionaire: Why Would I Ever Escape?

    I was bored out of my mind, so I started dating a guy. Turns out, he was an obsessively possessive psycho. He locked me up in his sprawling mansion, personally washing my face and spoon-feeding me every day. His only demand was that I could never, ever leave him. My eyes practically lit up. Are you telling me this kind of jackpot actually exists? He was a possessive psycho, and I was a lazy, affection-starved girl. It was a match made in heaven. 01 Today marked the fifth day of my imprisonment in Caleb Sterling’s mega-mansion. I was lounging lazily in a hanging egg chair, soaking up the sun, sipping a glass of ’82 Château Lafite, and feeling delightfully drowsy. So comfortable. God, this is the life. I genuinely couldn’t understand why the female leads in those romance novels always tried so hard to run away. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of the main gates swinging open. A sleek black Porsche slowly pulled into the courtyard. Caleb was back. I immediately vaulted out of the hanging chair, sprinted back to the master bedroom, and threw myself onto the massive California King bed. I curled my body into a tight ball, squeezed my eyes shut, and forced out two pitiful tears. Slowing my breathing, I waited quietly for Caleb to come in. The doorknob turned without a sound, and Caleb silently padded over to the edge of the bed. I cursed him in my head. This guy literally makes zero noise when he walks. If his tall frame hadn’t blocked the sunlight and cast a shadow over me, I wouldn’t have even known he was there. Despite my internal grumbling, I kept my eyes gently shut, my brows furrowed in distress, leaving tear streaks on my pale cheeks. It was a picture of pure, tragic melancholy. Anyone who saw it would feel their heart break. Aside from my breathing, the room was dead silent. If I couldn’t feel the burning intensity of his gaze on me, I would’ve thought Caleb dropped dead. Just as I was about to lose my patience and curse him out, Caleb finally moved. He let out a soft, ragged sigh. His warm palm gently cupped my cheek as he muttered in a low voice, “Do you really want to leave me that badly?” I made my eyelashes flutter right on cue, then slowly opened my eyes, staring directly into Caleb’s gaze. He didn’t have time to hide the deep loneliness in his eyes. He looked so fragile, like he might shatter at a single touch. Acting perfectly, I jolted backward in “fear,” my eyes rimmed red. I put up my guard while secretly observing him. Caleb stared at his empty hand lingering in the air. He froze for a second before slowly pulling it back. He forced a bitter smile. “You don’t want to see me? Did I disappoint you by coming back so early?” I bit my lip hard and glared at him coldly. My face showed nothing but silent disgust, while my inner voice was screaming: Why the hell did you come back so late?! What took you so long? I missed you to death! Caleb seemed used to my coldness. He frowned, looking at my almost-bleeding lower lip, and ordered coldly, “Let go of your lip.” I didn’t move. Suddenly, he leaned down and captured my lips with his. Fireworks practically exploded in my brain. My entire being was enveloped by his scent. But, of course, I didn’t forget my “character setting”—I struggled fiercely. The more I struggled, well… the harder he kissed me. It wasn’t until I tasted a hint of copper in my mouth that Caleb finally pulled away. He brushed a thumb over my swollen lips, his expression melting into pure tenderness. “What do you want to eat? I’ll go cook.” I gave a cold huff. “I’m not eating.” He just smiled, scooping me up into his arms like a child. He carried me steadily down the grand staircase, rattling off a menu of dishes entirely unbothered by my lack of response. I rested my head on his broad shoulder. Where he couldn’t see, I licked my lips, absolutely hooked. Good lord, Caleb was so freaking hot just now. God knows how much I love this kind of overbearing, forceful romance. Caleb set me down on the plush living room sofa, arranged a spread of fresh fruits and snacks in front of me, and turned on the massive TV. He kissed my forehead, his tone incredibly gentle. “Don’t eat too many snacks, okay? Dinner will be ready soon.” How is this man so perfect and domesticated? Whoever marries him is going to be the luckiest girl alive. Oh wait, that’s me. I frowned, keeping my mouth shut. The kitchen had an open layout, meaning Caleb could see me the second he looked up. It had been like this for all five days. Aside from today, when he absolutely had to leave for work, I had to be within his line of sight at all times for him to feel at ease. Otherwise, he would lose his mind—smashing things, hitting his head against the wall, self-harming. 02 Caleb and I met online. We chatted for a while, and once we got familiar, he asked to meet up. I rejected him without a second thought. I was too lazy to exist, let alone put on makeup and leave my apartment. Unless I was starving and needed groceries, I didn’t go outside. But Caleb was relentless. During a video call, he “accidentally” showed off his perfectly sculpted abs to tempt me. I suddenly decided that going outside wasn’t such a bad idea after all. But I regretted it right after we met. When I tried to break up with him, Caleb’s eyes went completely red. He gripped my hands tight and begged me to grant him one last request: to go somewhere with him. I figured it was the last time anyway, so I humored him. And that’s how I ended up locked in here. Caleb hugged me tightly from behind, his expression dark and sickly obsessive. “Harper, now you can never leave me.” I looked around the ridiculously luxurious mega-mansion. An entire accent wall was encrusted with rare blue and pink diamonds. The 5,000-square-foot walk-in closet was stuffed with designer jewelry, bags, and haute couture. The bathtub alone was bigger than my entire old apartment. My heart was beating so fast it practically leapt out of my chest with joy. Caleb showed me around room by room. “I prepared all of this for you. Do you like it? As long as you don’t leave me, you can have anything you want.” Like it? I freaking love it! Why would I ever leave? This is literal paradise! I forced down the corners of my mouth that were desperately trying to curve upward and asked coldly, “What is the meaning of this? Are you imprisoning me?” Imprison me, please! You’re a psycho captor, and I’m a girl with severe social anxiety. It’s perfect! Caleb seemed unable to handle that word. He panicked, explaining desperately, “No, I just want to be with you forever, Harper.” He confiscated my phone and gave me a modified new one, cutting off all my contact with the outside world. Caleb stayed by my side 24/7. I could do whatever I wanted, but there was one ironclad rule: I could never leave his sight. The second he couldn’t find me—even for just a few seconds—he would go completely feral. I had “attempted” to escape a few times, getting caught by Caleb every single time. I did it on purpose. I was intentionally triggering his paranoid, possessive streak. I figured it out early on: Caleb had a deeply obsessive personality. If he were in a novel, he’d be the textbook yandere male lead. And I loved his toxic, do-or-die level of obsession. I just didn’t know how long this extreme devotion would last. So, I couldn’t let my true feelings show. If I acted too happy, he might lose interest. After all, the things you can’t quite grasp are always the most tantalizing. From then on, I lived a life where I didn’t even have to lift a finger. My only job was lying in bed playing video games. When I got hungry, someone fed me. When I needed to use the bathroom, someone carried me there. Thank god for Caleb. Otherwise, I would’ve never experienced such luxury in my life. I was born deep in the backwoods of the Ozarks. My parents pumped out seven daughters before finally getting their precious golden boy, “Junior.” I was the fourth daughter, the most ignored, the most invisible. Freezing, starving, doing grueling farm chores, and acting as a punching bag for Junior—that was my daily routine. So, I ran away. I ran to a city where no one knew me to start a new life. I worked odd jobs to put myself through school, constantly terrified that my family from the backwoods would come drag me back. Because of that, I was deeply insecure and affection-starved. I wanted a lot of love, and a lot of money. Caleb gave me a mansion to live in, endless cash to spend, he was incredibly hot, and he loved me to a terrifying degree. I couldn’t escape this maze-like mansion even if I tried—and trust me, I didn’t want to. And those leeches from my hometown could never find me here. What the hell did I have to complain about? “Baby, dinner’s ready.” Caleb walked over, but when he saw me staring blankly out the window, his face darkened. “Thinking about running away again?” 03 I acted like he “startled” me, shrinking back against the glass. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Yes. I just don’t want to be trapped with a monster like you.” Even though I was “terrified,” I bit my lip to hold back my tears, pretending to be brave. I looked exactly like a tragic, unyielding heroine who refused to bow to wealth—a fragile white flower caught in a storm. Brilliant, Harper. You are a generational acting talent. The pacing was absolutely flawless. I mentally patted myself on the back. Caleb recoiled as if he’d been struck, muttering, “Monster? “Harper… you think I’m a monster? But before, you clearly said you liked me the most…” His eyes grew bloodshot. He took a massive stride forward, cupping my face with both hands, desperate for validation. “You said you liked me!” I turned my face away, my 98-degree lips spitting out absolute ice. “Who could ever like a monster? I hate you. I—” Before I could finish, my lips were ruthlessly crushed. He kissed me with the ferocity of a tiger tearing into its prey. Beautiful! Caleb, you really are a well-trained guard dog. I absolutely loved this suffocating feeling, like I was being kissed to death. Whenever I was craving a heavy make-out session with Caleb but couldn’t just ask for one, I would intentionally provoke him like this. It made him lose control, go feral, and kiss me senseless. After about ten minutes of aggressive kissing, Caleb’s emotions finally leveled out. I was left gasping for air. He licked the tears off my cheeks, his voice dangerously low. “Harper, please don’t hate me.” My tears weren’t fake acting this time—they were squeezed out from the sheer intensity of it. God damn, that was a brutal kiss. Hurt like hell, but felt so good. Caleb’s lips were already swollen and red, with a few fresh scabs. I didn’t even need a mirror to know what my own mouth looked like. As if the intense interlude hadn’t just happened, Caleb smiled brightly, scooped me up, and sat me at the dining table. I stared “coldly” at the spread of gourmet dishes, secretly swallowing my saliva. Caleb really knew how to cook. After being “forced” to eat a massive meal “against my will,” Caleb smirked in satisfaction. He carried me upstairs, in a fantastic mood. “Our Harper is such a good girl when it comes to eating. You never mistreat your own stomach.” Me: “…” Was I that obvious? I thought I was showing great restraint. 04 Aside from that one day when an emergency forced him into the office, Caleb never left the house again. He stayed locked inside this castle with me, terrified I would escape. I cried, I screamed, I begged him to let me go. None of it worked. I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I stayed directly beneath his eyelids. I can’t even describe how amazing these past few days were. I threw tantrums whenever I wanted. If I felt like smashing priceless vases or designer jewelry, I did it. Caleb’s only concern was whether I might accidentally cut myself on the shards. If I was in a bad mood because I lost a ranked match in my video game, I’d slap Caleb across the face. I’d glare at him and say, “It’s your unlucky breathing that made me lose! This is all your fault!” Caleb would lower his head and whisper, “I’m sorry.” I’d snap, “I need to use the bathroom. Carry me.” Caleb would put down whatever fruit he was peeling for me and steadily carry me to the en-suite. Sometimes, the “Defeat” screen would pop up, and before I could even react, Caleb was already leaning his face in close, offering his cheek for me to slap. Truly a perfectly trained good boy. He would only ever ask if my hand hurt from hitting him. When I got tired of acting or bored with video games, I would go to the kitchen and cook aggressively. From dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk, nonstop. No matter how crazy I acted, Caleb accepted it all with a loving smile. It was as if anything I gave him, even abuse, was a blessing. But I didn’t like how peaceful and complacent things were getting. There was zero challenge, no waves to ride. Plus, with me being so quiet lately, Caleb seemed to be dropping his guard and getting too comfortable. That wouldn’t do. Life was getting a bit too cozy. I needed to periodically stimulate him, keep him anxious and terrified of losing me. Otherwise, a comfortable wolf turns into a docile dog. So, I decided to play with fire again. I was going to escape. I meticulously engineered the perfect plan. It had to show my absolute, unwavering determination to run away, which would trigger Caleb’s paranoia. But it also had to result in me “accidentally” getting caught by Caleb, so I could return and continue enjoying my billionaire lifestyle. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Just thinking about it made me rub my hands together in excitement. Caleb, sitting nearby, asked cautiously, “Harper, what are you thinking about? You look so happy.” I instantly suppressed my rising smirk. “Nothing. This web novel I’m reading is just really good. I’m going to leave a like for the author.” As soon as I said that, Caleb suddenly leaned his head over, staring at my phone screen. “What are you doing?” Caleb said with dead seriousness, “I’m memorizing the author’s pen name. I’m going to find her and pay her ten million dollars to write stories exclusively for you every day.” Me: “…” My mouth twitched. I let him read a few lines of the book. Watching him study the screen like he was taking the SATs, I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Don’t you think the male lead in this story is exactly like you? Extremely controlling, possessive, and constantly going crazy.” Caleb nodded. “Does the male lead eventually live happily ever after with the female lead? Does that mean I get to be with you forever too?” Me: “…” Is that really the takeaway here?! 05 I put my plan into motion. I stopped crying and throwing tantrums. I ate, drank, gamed, and cooked normally, acting like a completely ordinary couple with Caleb. Because of this, Caleb relaxed his iron grip slightly. I was finally allowed to disappear from his line of sight for a few minutes at a time. When he wasn’t paying attention, I snuck into the closet and found the purse I had on me the day he locked me up. Inside were the anti-anxiety meds I used to carry everywhere. I raised an eyebrow. After I escaped the backwoods, I had terrible insomnia, constantly terrified I’d be dragged back. A doctor had prescribed me these heavy sedatives. I never thought they’d come in handy like this. That night, I handed Caleb a mug of warm milk. “Drink?” Seeing that I had made it myself, Caleb didn’t hesitate for a second and chugged the whole thing. Clatter. The mug hit the floor, and he collapsed instantly. “Caleb. Wake up.” I slapped his cheek twice, joking, “If you don’t wake up, I’m leaving.” The man on the floor didn’t twitch. I clicked my tongue. Wow, these meds really don’t mess around. The keys to the front gate were in his safe. I tried my birthday as the passcode, and it popped right open. Seriously, it was exactly like the cliché psycho CEOs in novels. I was going to just bolt, but looking at Caleb lying on the hardwood floor like a dead pig, I sighed. Considering how well he had treated me, I used every ounce of my strength to drag his heavy body onto the bed and tuck him in. Then, I walked out like a boss. The moment I stepped out the front gates, I let out a string of curses. This damn mansion is literally built halfway up a mountain! It was the dead of night, in the middle of nowhere. I added a huge tip on the Uber app, but no one was taking the ride. How long was it going to take me to walk down these winding mountain roads? My legs were going to snap. By the time I reached the bottom, Caleb would probably wake up and catch me. What was the point of this? Was I trying to experience the Little Mermaid’s pain of walking on land? Just as I was debating whether I should turn back, go to sleep, and pretend none of this ever happened, high beams flashed in the distance. I waved my arms frantically and hitched a ride, spinning a random sob story. The driver introduced himself: “I’m Ethan. What’s your name?” I discreetly sized him up. He looked like a fresh college grad—clean-cut, casual clothes, driving an average sedan. “I’m Harper Smith. I got into a fight with my boyfriend, and he kicked me out.” I lowered my head and let out a few soft sobs. Ethan instantly went into panic mode, handing me tissues and aggressively cursing out Caleb. “What kind of guy does that?! Kicking his girlfriend out in the middle of the night on a mountain? That’s so dangerous! He’s absolute trash.” Ethan righteously comforted me the whole drive down, but I just asked him to drop me at the nearest bus stop. After waving Ethan off, I took a cab straight to the night market. After being force-fed wagyu beef and lobster by Caleb for days, I was desperately craving some good old-fashioned greasy street food. Fully stuffed, I made my way back to my old, crappy rental apartment. It was exactly how I left it, just covered in a thick layer of dust. I didn’t have any friends or family who cared about me, so my disappearance hadn’t been noticed by a single soul. After getting used to a 5,000-square-foot custom mattress, this rock-hard rental bed was sheer torture. By now, the sun was starting to peek through the blinds. Damn it, what is wrong with Caleb?! Why hasn’t he come to catch me yet? I was dying of anxiety. Yes, I wanted to escape, but I didn’t want the escape to be successful! I did not want to leave my billionaire mansion to become a street rat again! Why wasn’t Caleb waking up? Did I put too many pills in his milk? Or was I truly just too much of a mastermind, and Caleb couldn’t outsmart me? Right when I was on the verge of stressed tears, the door to the rental apartment was violently kicked open. Caleb stood in the doorway, radiating a terrifying aura. Seeing Caleb, I let out a massive sigh of relief, then happily “fainted” right into his arms. 06 When I woke up, I was back in the familiar, luxurious surroundings. Caleb had finally caught me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had almost accidentally said goodbye to my life of endless wealth. He was standing right beside the bed, his face terrifyingly dark. That was when I noticed a nasty gash on his temple. It was covered in dried blood. “What happened to your head?” Caleb closed his eyes, saying dismissively, “I rolled down the stairs and hit it.” I stayed silent. Looks like I really went overboard with those meds. Overdosing on that stuff causes sudden blackouts and severe dizziness. He must have stumbled trying to come after me. I tried to sit up, only to hear the clinking of metal. I looked down and realized my wrist was bound by a pair of cold handcuffs. I licked my lips. A surge of excitement vibrated through my bones. What is this? Forced confinement play? Oh, I love this. I instantly put on my “cold” face. “What is the meaning of this? Let me go.” Caleb stroked the metal chain, his voice deathly low. “This is the punishment for Harper being a bad girl. Now, you can never leave me.” Punishment? Oh, I consider this a reward. I hadn’t expected this fake escape to yield such fantastic bonus content. The handcuffs were lined with soft velvet so they wouldn’t chafe my wrists. That night, Caleb held me in a suffocatingly tight embrace. The metal chains clinked softly every time I moved, until I eventually fell into a deep sleep. From initial crying and struggling, to eventual cold indifference—I cycled through all my acting phases, but Caleb absolutely refused to unlock the cuffs. After satisfying my craving for drama, I started getting bored. Lying in bed all day was making my back ache. So, I started begging him, pretending to submit, and whispering every sweet nothing I could think of. “Caleb, please unlock it. I promise I won’t run away again.” “Caleb, I’ve really thought it through. Take it off, and let’s just live a good life together.” Caleb ignored my pleas entirely and instead asked abruptly, “Who was the guy who drove you down the mountain?” I paused for a second before realizing who he meant. “I don’t even know him! I just begged a random passing car for a ride. Don’t go hurting innocent people.” After I explained, Caleb’s dark expression finally lifted a little. And after a lot of relentless coaxing, he finally took the handcuffs off. However, his surveillance over me became suffocatingly strict. He practically glued himself to my side, acting completely paranoid 24/7. I had trained him exceptionally well. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t fully satisfied. If you want a relationship to stay spicy, a good game of cat-and-mouse is mandatory.

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  • Gilded Cage and Cold Revenge

    In the elite circles of Manhattan, Silas Sterling was a king, and he had two “princesses” by his side. One was a spoiled brat who pouted and called him “Uncle Silas.” The other was a siren who drove him to madness in the sheets. I was the latter. The former was Tiffany Moore, a girl who hated me to the bone. She was reckless, cruel, and pampered beyond reason. The day she pushed me into the freezing Atlantic from a luxury yacht, she laughed so hard she could barely stand. “You’re just a cheap little bird, Sera,” she sneered. “Did you really think you could compete with me? Now, go feed the sharks.” Let her throw me in. I was already carrying Silas’s child, and I was just looking for the perfect way to turn his protective streak into a weapon of mass destruction. 1 Silas Sterling ruled both the boardroom and the back alleys of New York. The tabloids called him ruthless, a man with ice in his veins who had no room for women. Two years ago, I appeared by his side, sporting the face of an innocent “English Rose”—pure, soft, and fragile. Only after getting close did I realize that this “ascetic” mogul was anything but. On countless blurry nights, Silas would strip away his mask of cold indifference. He would tear off my silk slips and drag us both into a feverish abyss. The high-thread-count sheets would be soaked in sweat, smelling of his heavy, masculine cologne. It was Friday the 13th, a night of bad omens. Silas returned to the penthouse reeking of expensive bourbon. The city lights flickered like dying embers outside. He shed his bespoke suit jacket and gestured for me. I walked over obediently and sat on his powerful, muscular lap. In the dim light, Silas’s emotions were thick and suffocating. I cupped his sharp jawline, raining kisses on his eyes, his nose, and finally, his sensitive throat. He let out a low, tired chuckle. “Only with you, Sera… do I find a moment of peace.” I knew that. Silas had climbed to the top over the bodies of his own rivals. Family betrayals, boardroom coups—he had seen it all. He was pathologically paranoid. Every woman who approached him, whether an A-list actress or a billionaire heiress, was viewed as a pawn with an agenda. Except for me. Well, and one other girl: Tiffany Moore. Silas had doted on her for far longer. At 3:00 AM, she was the only one who dared to call his private line. He put it on speaker. A muffled sobbing came through: “Uncle Silas… it’s the anniversary of my dad’s death. I had that nightmare again.” “Can you come over? I’m so scared.” 2 I leaned against Silas like I had no bones, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “It’s a bad night to be out so late,” I whispered. “Can’t you wait until morning?” Silas looked at me with a gaze that was cold and unreadable. I sighed and obediently slid off him. My face was a mask of disappointment and worry. Seeing me turn away, he brushed the hair from my neck and kissed my earlobe firmly. “Tiffany is just a kid, Sera. Don’t be petty.” Right. In the eyes of men like him, the girls they hold in their palms are always “kids.” Even if she was a year older than me. I kicked him playfully under the covers. “If she’s a kid, what does that make me?” Silas pulled me back into his arms, kissing my lips until I was breathless. “You’re a little succubus. You’re the one I can’t stay away from.” I blushed, burying my face in the pillows, my voice muffled and longing: “Tell Arthur to drive you. If you get a DUI, the papers will have a field day.” “Mhm.” As he closed the door, his gaze held a softness he didn’t even realize was there. 3 This wasn’t the first time Tiffany had snatched him away. She was “drunk.” She had “fought with friends.” She was “being harassed at a club.” She always had an excuse to bring Silas running. The paparazzi, used to the scandals of the wealthy, were stunned by how much he indulged her. Once, on a flight to Aspen, Tiffany complained of a stomach ache. Silas ordered the private jet to turn around immediately. He lost a nine-figure deal that day, but he didn’t care. He stayed by her side. Rumors flew that Silas was simply waiting for her to grow up. But years passed, and they never became “official.” Meanwhile, every woman who tried to get close to Silas was either blacklisted, disappeared, or had her reputation ruined in the most public way. Tiffany proved, time and again, that her position was untouchable. She was the one in his heart. Until I showed up. Silas protected me fiercely, keeping me out of the spotlight. We met at NYU. I was a finance major—beautiful, sharp, but seemingly untouched by the world. I was a hard worker, a girl from a rough background who had clawed her way into an Ivy League circle. He had me investigated. He found a father with a history of violence and a mother who died young. My background was as clean as white paper. I was the perfect project: innocent and aspirational. I’ll never forget the day Tiffany found out about me. She trashed my apartment and slapped me across the face until I bled. Silas screamed at her for the first time, shielding me behind his back. Tiffany wailed, “Uncle Silas, don’t you love me anymore?” His heart softened instantly, and he let her sob into his chest. “You’ll always be my first priority,” he promised. But men have weaknesses. Lust is a powerful thing. To take the top spot in Silas’s heart, I didn’t just work on being his “muse.” I spent my nights studying how to be his greatest addiction. Hard work pays off. When he left me now, he was no longer so decisive. 4 It was a high-society charity gala hosted by the Hunt family. Tiffany, as usual, arrived draped in Cartier and haute couture. When she saw me, her smile vanished. “Seraphina Vance. How did a stray like you get an invite?” Tiffany looked down on me. To her, I was just Silas’s high-end “kept woman.” I had been with him for two years, and not even my college roommates knew. I was his secret, a ghost in his life. I didn’t belong at a party like this. But Silas wasn’t hiding me because he was ashamed; he was hiding me because I was his Achilles’ heel. Normally, I met him at his private penthouses, driven by his personal security. But after a stalker nearly broke into my place, he moved me into his most secure estate. Facing Tiffany’s sneer, I remained poised. “I graduated top of my class, Tiffany. I have friends in high places. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see me here.” Tiffany eyed my floor-length, form-fitting gown. Her eyes turned venomous. “You’re nothing. One phone call last night and Silas came to me. He gave me a pink diamond necklace from the Sotheby’s auction. It’s worth six million.” “What did he give you? That dress looks like a rental.” She was right. Silas never took me shopping. I didn’t ask for luxury gifts. But I didn’t need to. In the quiet of the night, he taught me the secrets of the market, hand-holding me through investment strategies. Isn’t that more interesting than a piece of jewelry? When she saw no jealousy in my eyes, she hissed: “Bitch. He’ll get bored of you soon. When he’s done, you won’t be able to find a job in this city.” I touched my neck, smiling. “Last night… he was so obsessed he wouldn’t let me leave the room until dawn. I don’t think he’s getting bored quite yet.” I leaned in closer. “It’s pathetic, Tiffany. You love him, but you’re too afraid to even try to get into his bed.” 5 Tiffany lost it. She smashed her wine glass against the floor near my feet. A shard of glass sliced into my calf. Blood began to seep out. Grayson Hunt noticed the commotion and rushed over. “Miss Moore, I’m hosting this event. Why are you attacking my guest?” In New York, Tiffany was used to being Silas’s untouchable ward. “The bitch started it,” she snapped. Grayson was about to argue, but I grabbed his arm. “It’s fine. I must have been a poor host. She’s the guest here; I should apologize.” Tiffany looked triumphant. “Kneel down and wipe that wine off my shoes.” Grayson was about to protest when a familiar, deep voice came from behind. “Tiffany. That’s enough.” “Uncle Silas! She was bullying me!” Tiffany flew into Silas’s arms like a wounded bird. I took a step back, feigning a stumble. My heel caught, and my silhouette was perfectly framed in the light. Grayson caught me by the waist to steady me. “Did you twist your ankle?” Silas’s eyes went cold, his gaze fixed on Grayson’s hand on my waist. I tried to push Grayson away, but he held me firm. “You injured your foot playing tennis last week, Sera. Don’t make it worse.” I looked back at Silas. The rage in his eyes was like a physical heat. 6 I was dozing off in my apartment when Silas arrived, unannounced. I limped to the door. He pinned me against the sofa, biting my lip hard. “Seraphina… how dare you let another man touch you?” His kiss was a punishment, meant to consume me. Eventually, I went soft in his arms, whispering: “Grayson doesn’t even like women, Silas. He’s like a brother to me.” The words acted like a sedative. Silas paused. “I don’t care! No one touches what’s mine.” He was so possessive. I bit my lip. “If he didn’t help me, was I supposed to kneel and lick the floor? I’m not a dog.” “Of course you aren’t. Tiffany was out of line. I’ve dealt with her.” He added, “She’s just a girl. She’s immature. Just stay away from her for a while.” Tiffany really was his weakness. I toyed with his tie, my fingers tracing the silk. “I know. I’m not trying to take anything from her.” “It’s her birthday on Saturday. I’ll go and apologize to her.” Silas looked satisfied. “I bought her a yacht for her birthday. If you like, I’ll buy you one too.” I didn’t want what everyone else had. I wanted something better. Looking into Silas’s dark, wanting eyes, I kissed him sweetly. “That’s so expensive. I should bring her a very special gift, shouldn’t I?” A gift she would never see coming. 7 Tiffany really was number one. Silas was a man whose schedule was booked months in advance, but he cleared an entire day for her birthday yacht party. The party was wild. Tiffany was surrounded by her “mean girl” squad and a group of male models they had hired for the day. When she saw me, her face fell. Who wants their enemy at their birthday party? I stayed quiet, handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a smile. Tiffany scoffed. “Cheap.” Silas rubbed her head. “The jewelry and the Ferrari weren’t enough? Be nice to Sera.” Tiffany grew even more irritated. She went over to her friends, whispering about how I was just a “gold-digger.” Silas was busy on a conference call. Tiffany took off her million-dollar watch and threw it into the ocean. “Whoever dives in and finds it gets to keep it!” The male models scrambled into the water. Tiffany didn’t care about the watch; she only wanted to make Silas jealous. I sighed, leaning in close to her so only she could hear. “Don’t be mad at Silas. He’s always busy. He only really has time for me at night.” I knew exactly what would push her over the edge. She glared at me, her face contorted. “You’re just a whore who’s good in bed.” I smiled gently, my hand resting on my stomach. “Careful, Tiffany. One day, my child might have to call you ‘sister’.” She looked at me in disbelief, screaming: “You bitch! Silas would never have a kid with you!” “Why not? I’m smart, I’m educated, and he’s obsessed with me.” “You aren’t old money. He’d never marry you.” “You don’t know Silas very well. He never goes on the dates his family sets up.” I lowered my voice. “Or are you just waiting for him to marry you? But he only sees you as a niece. You feel it too, don’t you?” That was the breaking point. Tiffany lost her mind and shoved me into the ocean. “No one save her!” she screamed. “Let’s see how long she lasts!” The water was freezing. I had told Silas a lie once—that my father had tried to drown me when I was a kid and that I was terrified of deep water. I had to make my struggle look desperate. How else would I erase Tiffany from his heart? 8 I woke up in a hospital bed. My face was pale, my body aching. Silas was there, his expression heavy. “You’re pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?” I forced a smile that looked more like a sob. “Mr. Sterling… I knew you wouldn’t want it. I was going to find a time to end it. I didn’t expect…” Losing the baby didn’t seem to make Silas sad. He was an illegitimate son himself. He had a traumatic childhood. He had always sworn he wouldn’t have children before marriage. But his protection of the “murderer” was far too obvious. “Tiffany said… you tripped and fell.” My eyes burned with tears. “Is that what she said?” “I want to hear your version.” I didn’t need to say anything. To keep Tiffany safe, Silas had installed hidden cameras all over the yacht. He hadn’t told her because she hated being watched. I had chosen the perfect spot to provoke her. I leaned back against the pillows, my eyes red. “It was my fault. I slipped. It’s a miracle I was saved.” Silas leaned over, his eyes searching mine. He wanted to see through me. But in an instant, my tears fell uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. I lost control.” Silas wasn’t a patient man. He hated crying women. Except for Tiffany. But this time, he pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay. You’re young. We can have children later.” I sniffled. “I wasn’t ready to be a mother anyway. You know my family was terrible. I didn’t want to bring a baby into this world to suffer.” 9 Silas froze. He would never marry me. The “father” of my future children would have to be someone else. He gripped my chin roughly. “Seraphina… are you planning on having kids with someone else?” I didn’t fight him. I took his hand and looked at him sincerely. “Silas, I’m not a canary looking for a gilded cage. Without your help, the aunt who raised me would have died. I owe you my life.” “I won’t leave you. Unless…” He cut me off with a harsh, punishing kiss. He wiped the tears from my eyes, his voice a warning: “You aren’t leaving without my permission.” I suppressed my grief and hugged him back. I’m sorry, baby, I thought. This world was too dirty for you anyway. 10 As compensation, Silas gave me a job at his firm. In the venture capital department—his favorite division. Silas had a legendary eye for investments. It was how he had ousted his half-brothers and taken control of the family empire. Tiffany was there too. She got paid, but she did no work. Silas just wanted to give her a title. Just like he had donated a building to her college to get her a degree she didn’t earn. In the office, Tiffany tried to make my life hell. Silas kept his personal and professional lives separate. He wasn’t going to stand up for a “mistress” in front of his staff. I didn’t care. I used my own money to buy coffee and snacks for the team, making friends with everyone. When the “mean girl” tried to make me her personal assistant, my colleagues stood up for me. I played my own game. I used my “recovery” as an excuse to stop going to Silas’s estate. He mocked me: “The little bird’s wings are getting strong.” I laughed it off and went back to work, pulling all-nighters to create brilliant investment proposals using the knowledge he had taught me. Months later, the head of the department praised me in front of Silas. “Seraphina is brilliant. She has a rare gift for this.” The boardroom erupted in applause. Silas had a faint smile on his lips. He looked at me through his gold-rimmed glasses—the look of a man who was no longer just attracted to a body, but to a mind. 11 When I finally returned to his estate, Silas taught me more about the dark side of business. I sat on his lap, rewarding him with kisses. He was in a great mood, his hands wandering over my waist. I stopped him, looking pained. “Promise me… we’ll be careful. I can’t have another baby.” “You really don’t want my child?” “No. I told you… my father killed my mother. I barely survived.” “I don’t want my history to repeat.” Silas had done a background check, but he only knew the basics. He didn’t know that in my remote, impoverished hometown, domestic violence wasn’t a crime—it was a way of life. My mother was kind, but she couldn’t give my father the son he wanted. Every time he was frustrated, he beat her. The winter my uncle had a son, my father came home fuming. He attacked my mother without warning. I tried to protect her, but he threw me aside by my hair. He kicked her until she was vomiting blood. I tried to take her to a doctor in the next town, but my father found us. He hit me with a shovel, shattering my leg. “You aren’t taking her anywhere,” he hissed. My mother died of internal bleeding. My leg was broken. My father refused to pay for treatment. He wanted me to drop out of school to serve him. A volunteer teacher in the village paid for my surgery. She wasn’t much older than me, but she told me: “The world is big. If you work hard, you can fly away.” From that day on, I studied like a demon. I never missed a chance to escape. Silas stared into my eyes. “What happened to your father?” “After I left, he kept hounding me for money. He threatened my aunt. I had to give in.” “And then?” “He became an alcoholic. He spent all the money on booze and froze to death one winter.” I looked sad, as if I were grieving. “I handled the funeral. He was still my father.” Silas kissed my forehead. “You’re a good person, Sera. That’s why you’re so patient with Tiffany.” I almost laughed. Good? I was the one who made sure he had an endless supply of cheap, high-proof alcohol. He killed my mother and got away with it. I just let the universe handle the rest.

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  • The Cost of Leaving

    For two years, Carter Vance transferred $10,000 to me every time he spent the night at my place. That is, until one particular morning, when I received a notification for $100,000. [I’m getting engaged next month.] [Received.] I stared quietly at the pinned conversation on my phone. There was no further activity. An hour later, I placed my resignation letter on my office desk and drove through the night back to my hometown. Just as I was dreaming about using the money to buy a few properties and become a landlord, Carter suddenly appeared in front of me. Suppressing his fury, his voice was dangerously hoarse: “Quinn, who gave you permission to leave?” 01 When I received the text alert for the $100,000 deposit, my immediate thought was that Carter had accidentally added an extra zero. The next second, a message popped up in our pinned text thread: [I’m getting engaged next month.] I froze for two seconds before replying: [Received.] It was a brief exchange, no different from how we handled our daily business matters. I understood his meaning perfectly. This $100,000 was his way of telling me to leave. He was going to marry a wealthy heiress to merge their families. As his secretary and casual bedmate, it was no longer appropriate for me to exist in his world. I waited a long while, but no new messages appeared on the screen. He likely felt no need to explain further, assuming I would do exactly as he wished. After all, in his eyes, I had always been a woman who “knew her place.” I typed out a brief resignation letter, left it on my desk, took the millions I had saved up in my account, and drove through the night back to my quiet hometown. I wanted to rest. Being Carter Vance’s secretary for the past few years had completely exhausted me. 02 Before me, Carter had cycled through six secretaries. He was cold, dictatorial, and impossibly demanding. One wrong word and his face would instantly darken. He was a nightmare to serve. I had answered his calls at 3:00 AM, getting out of bed immediately to accompany him on last-minute business trips. I had pulled endless all-nighters with him and navigated countless corporate galas and drinking parties. I worked diligently and walked on eggshells, all for a very handsome salary. Everyone in the company knew I was Carter’s most capable secretary, yet he had never once given me a smile. He trusted me, but kept me at an icy distance. He once told me that the reason I was allowed to stay was because I “had a brain and knew where the boundaries were.” So, after our first absurd, alcohol-fueled night together, I didn’t ask anything. I didn’t say anything. Neither did Carter. Except… From that day on, on many late nights, he would follow me home. 03 Every time Carter stayed the night, he would transfer $10,000 to me the next morning. At first, I was furious. After all, the monthly salary he paid me was only $8,000. Giving me ten grand just to sleep with him felt like a massive insult to the grueling work I put in for him every month. But when Carter treated me like a workhorse at the office, reprimanding me with a dark face and zero mercy—completely ignoring the fact that we had been entangled in my bed just hours prior—my anger morphed into a realization. I earned that ten grand. I was acutely aware of the gap between Carter and me. He was a billionaire heir; I was a corporate employee. We were just two adults taking what we needed from each other. It had absolutely nothing to do with feelings. The $10,000 kept things dignified between us. The moment someone wanted more, it would turn ugly. So, when he mentioned he was getting engaged, I vanished from his world as quickly as possible. I handled it cleanly and efficiently, just as I did with all my tasks. The only hitch was when I went to block Carter’s number—my fingers trembled just a little. 04 My return home brought my parents overwhelming joy. They had always wanted me to come back, get married, have kids, and live a stable life near them. After staying home for a while, I suddenly didn’t want to leave. The millions Carter had given me over the years were more than enough to buy several nice houses in this quiet suburban town. Becoming a real estate investor, collecting rent, and doing something I actually liked sounded perfect. But my sweet dream was shattered just days later when Carter suddenly appeared in front of me. Seeing the black Mercedes SUV parked downstairs, I assumed it belonged to someone else. When I finally got a clear look at the license plate, I froze. Why was Carter’s car here? The next second, the man in the tailored suit stepped out of the vehicle and aggressively pulled me into the backseat. His fury was barely contained, his voice dropping to a gravelly rasp: “Quinn, who gave you permission to leave?” “You vanish without a single word. What do you take me for?” I looked at him, completely bewildered. “Aren’t you getting engaged?” Carter’s face darkened. “So what if I am?” I was speechless. “Carter, do you even hear what you’re saying?” “You transferred me a hundred grand. Wasn’t that your way of telling me to pack my bags?” Carter froze. “What hundred grand?” 05 I never imagined that Carter actually had just hit an extra zero by mistake. “Quinn, you couldn’t even ask me about it?” “A hundred grand is enough to send you packing? Are you looking down on me, or looking down on yourself?” His grip on my wrist tightened. He was genuinely furious. I honestly didn’t understand his anger. Even if I misunderstood his intention, did he need to be this mad? Driving all the way out here to find me was going to make me read into things. “Carter… Mr. Vance. Regardless of what happened, you are going to have a family soon. It’s not appropriate for me to stay by your side anymore.” “Even without that hundred grand, I would have left.” I looked quietly at Carter, slowly pulling my hand back from his grip. He had the capital to be reckless and act on whims. I did not. A dark storm surged in Carter’s eyes. His expression cooled inch by inch, a cynical smirk touching the corner of his lips. “So you’re just letting go, Quinn?” “Am I not even worth you fighting for?” My heart began to hammer wildly against my ribs. I spoke slowly, emphasizing every word: “Carter, aside from my $8,000 salary and those $10,000 nights, what exactly is our relationship? What exactly do you expect me to fight for?” 06 Carter didn’t answer me. He pinned me against the leather seat and kissed me fiercely. I covered my mouth, afraid to make a sound, listening to him growl low in my ear: “Quinn, are you out of your damn mind?” “I tell you I’m getting engaged, and you just reply ‘Received’? Were you trying to piss me off?” “I waited in the office for you to come find me, and instead you blocked me and ran! You bolted so fast, are you part rabbit?” … When I stepped out of the SUV, the flush on my face hadn’t faded. Carter rolled down the window and looked at me with deep, quiet eyes. “I’m not agreeing to the arranged marriage.” “I just need a little time to handle it.” I nodded, unsure of what to say. The driver got in and started the engine. Carter suddenly reached his hand out the window and brushed my cheek. His dress shirt was halfway unbuttoned in a messy disarray, and a faint smile played on his lips. “Wait for me.” As the car drove further away, my heart fell into total chaos. I had always been calm and rational. I knew how to bury inappropriate feelings in the deepest corners of my heart. But now… I decided to let myself indulge, just this once. The tenderness Carter had shown me—a side he never revealed to anyone else—was like a key, unlocking a door that had been sealed for years. It let a surge of hidden, chaotic emotions flood my body, impossible to stop. I became greedy. I wanted more. I waited three days. I waited a week. I waited a month… No news came. Eventually, just like I had done to him, Carter completely vanished. His number disconnected, his socials gone. Unreachable. Carter had disappeared. 07 I tried reaching out to former colleagues, but they all said Carter hadn’t been to the office in a long time. Feeling a creeping sense of unease, I finally called his best friend, Liam Sterling. “I don’t know what’s going on with Carter either.” “Sorry, I can’t help you.” The moment I heard those words, I suddenly felt pathetic and ridiculous. If it had been anyone else, maybe. But Liam claiming he didn’t know? He was definitely lying. The truth was, Carter just didn’t want me to find him. I should have known better, yet I eagerly tried to track him down anyway. What a joke… an unrequited, self-absorbed joke. I locked myself in my house, refusing to go out or see anyone. My parents were frantic but helpless. It wasn’t until my best friend Ava returned from abroad that I was finally dragged out of my misery. “Quinn, can we stop being so pathetic?” “You used to be so cool! You walked away when it was time to walk away. How did you end up like this?” Ava had been studying in Europe for two years, and her tongue was as sharp as ever. But even as she scolded me, she couldn’t hide the heartbreak in her eyes. I sighed, my voice muffled. “I thought I was cool too.” “But now, I just feel like a joke.” Ava sighed with me. “I know. You already made a clean break.” “But then he came looking for you, and you just…” My eyes burned as I turned to look out the café window. “Ava, I don’t get it. How did I suddenly become so stupid?” Ava looked at me in silence. After a moment, she said softly, “Quinn, feelings are messy. You can’t explain them.” “But… you know exactly what real love is supposed to look like.” 08 Ava’s words hit me like a physical blow. Yeah. Did Carter actually love me? In the two years I spent by his side, even though we did everything lovers do, he never once clarified what we were. He was always strictly professional at work, never showing me a sliver of favoritism. Even on the day he drove out here to find me, when I asked him what he wanted me to fight for, he didn’t give me a straight answer. He never took me to his house to spend the night. He never once said the words “I love you.” If a billionaire heir like him truly loved someone, would it really look like this? I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. “Ava, I was a fool.” “I mistook someone’s fleeting whim for deep affection.” “I brought this on myself.” Ava took a sip of her latte and tried to comfort me. “It’s not entirely your fault.” “Carter Vance is gorgeous, and he has a great body.” “Didn’t you say he was amazing in bed too? It makes sense why you fell in so deep.” I reached across the table to cover her mouth. “Can you keep your voice down…” Ava laughed, teasing me. “We’re all adults, what’s there to hide?” “Let me tell you, you just haven’t seen enough of the world. Once you experience a few more guys, you’ll…” Ava’s voice trailed off, all the color suddenly draining from her face. I followed her gaze and turned around, crashing instantly into a cold, painfully familiar stare. 09 Carter, who had been missing for so long, was standing right there. Ava looked at me, then at him, and let out a heavy sigh. She grabbed her purse and stood up, rolling her eyes dramatically as she brushed past Carter. Carter took the seat across from me. He leaned casually against the backrest, legs crossed, his gaze indifferent. Maybe it was just my imagination, but he looked thinner. “Who was that? Cut contact with her.” His tone was as dictatorial as ever, as if I were still his secretary. I gripped my trembling hands tightly, fighting to keep my composure. “Why are you here?” Carter’s brows furrowed slightly, seemingly surprised by my attitude. “It’s handled.” “I’m here to take you back.” His tone was entirely flat, devoid of any ripples. As if absolutely nothing had happened over the past month. Even though I had felt like I was dying from the pain of it. “Carter, do you not have anything to explain?” “Explain what?” I looked at the calm, collected man in front of me, forcing a smile through my red eyes. “Nothing.” “Except, Carter, I’m not going back with you.” 10 Carter stared at me quietly, his eyes turning pitch black. After a long silence, his deep voice resonated: “Quinn, what is that supposed to mean?” “Are you trying to break up with me?” The tears finally spilled over, trailing down my cheeks. “Carter, what do you mean ‘break up’? Were we ever actually together?” Carter watched me for a moment before letting out a cold scoff. “Quinn, what exactly did you think our relationship was, then? We slept in the same bed.” My voice was ice. “A ten-thousand-dollar transaction.” Carter glared at me, rage rolling off him in waves. After a beat, he snapped, “What kind of tantrum are you throwing?” I desperately wanted to turn around and walk away, to escape this suffocating space. But the anger and grievance building in my chest wouldn’t let me just leave. “Carter, you gave me illusions. You made me think you liked me, that we weren’t just casual bedmates. You gave me hope.” “But then you vanished for weeks. Total radio silence. Even Liam covered for you and kept me in the dark, making me look like an absolute clown.” “You don’t care about my feelings at all, and you don’t know the first thing about my life. You didn’t even know that Ava is my best friend. You have no idea how much you trampled on the rationality and self-respect I was always so proud of.” “Carter, we are from two different worlds. So please, stop messing with me. Okay?” 11 Carter was silent for a long time. He had never seen me like this. To him, I never talked back. I certainly never accused him like this. I had always adapted to his rhythm and style, flawlessly executing every task he gave me. “I had no way to contact you because I didn’t have my phone for a while.” “I told you to wait for me, so I was always going to come back.” “You’ve always understood my intentions. I didn’t think we needed to explain so much between us.” See? Carter still saw me as his secretary. I was just supposed to execute his orders unconditionally, without asking any questions. I stood up and looked him in the eye. “Carter, maybe to you, there’s no difference between a secretary and a girlfriend.” “But it’s different for me. Once feelings are involved, I become sensitive, selfish, and irrational.” “That version of me isn’t the one you want. And you… are not the kind of boyfriend I want.” Without a second glance, I turned and walked out of the café. I could feel his gaze burning into my back the entire way, but… he didn’t chase after me. I figured, this time, it was truly over between us. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I got up and walked out to the balcony for some fresh air, only to freeze when I saw a car that didn’t belong parked downstairs. I checked my phone. It was 2:00 AM. A faint light glowed inside Carter’s car, illuminating a blurry silhouette. He was in the car.

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  • Reborn: I Let My Sister Take the Playboy

    I was reborn, brought back to the exact minute before I was supposed to choose my fiancé. Our family had an old pact to marry off the daughters, and now it was time to make the choice. My socialite sister’s eyes were filled with a mix of shock and absolute ecstasy. The moment our elders finished speaking, she let out a sharp, triumphant laugh: “Dad, Mom, I choose the Harrington heir! I want to marry into the Harrington family!” I instantly realized she had been reborn, too. She wanted to steal my life. In our past life, she chose the cold, untouchable “Saint” of Manhattan high society, only to discover his terrifyingly obsessive and ascetic nature. Unable to endure his monastic lifestyle, she cheated on him. As punishment, he imprisoned her for the rest of her life until she died of severe depression. Meanwhile, I married the playboy prince of Wall Street. Despite his flaws, I attended high-end galas and lived a life of absolute luxury, envied by everyone. Looking at her crazed, triumphant smile, I let out a breath of relief. Compared to a cheating, scum-of-the-earth playboy who would literally sell his wife for business, a possessive but deeply loyal ascetic was exactly what I wanted! 01 “Dad, Mom, I choose the Harrington heir! I want to marry into the Harrington family!” My parents frowned. “Clara, think this through. The Harringtons are facing several massive lawsuits right now; they aren’t as powerful as they used to be. Didn’t you always prefer the Sterling family’s heir?” My sister practically beamed. “Liam Harrington has the power to fix everything. You don’t need to worry about me.” Her words confirmed my suspicions. The reason Clara was practically begging to marry Liam was that she was terrified of repeating her miserable past life. In our previous life, she struck first, choosing the cold, noble “Saint” of Manhattan—Arthur Sterling. She got her wish and became Mrs. Sterling. But before she could even enjoy her endless wealth, she was shipped off to a secluded, heavily guarded mountain estate to “cleanse her soul.” The rules were incredibly strict, the diet completely vegan, and the estate was devoid of any entertainment, filled only with the sound of silence and ringing chapel bells. Not to mention, the wild, passionate fantasies she had about seducing the “untouchable saint” were crushed. Arthur never even touched her. Clara, who was used to a glamorous, vibrant nightlife, couldn’t stand such a dull, suffocating existence. One day, she made a phone call and sneaked two of her ex-boyfriends into the estate. While the three of them were in the middle of a wild session, the estate’s staff heard the noise and caught them red-handed. Rumor had it Arthur was so disgusted he took a vow of silence for a month. On his orders, Clara was locked inside a villa at the foot of the mountain for the rest of her life, strictly forbidden from leaving. She eventually died of severe depression. Arthur never physically abused her; he simply banned her from going to clubs to find young men. But Clara watched me accompany the Harrington heir to elite parties and ultimately developed a fatal heart condition out of pure jealousy. No wonder the moment she was reborn, she chose the Harrington family she had previously looked down upon. Clara felt my gaze. She shot me a provocative glare, then dragged me into the bedroom. “Don’t even think about fighting me for the Harrington heir, or I’ll kill you myself!” I feigned concern. “But the Harrington family is facing a huge crisis right now. Are you really going to sacrifice yourself, sister?” Clara raised her chin, her expression full of contempt. “You don’t need to worry about me. The Harrington family is going straight to the top!” She shoved me hard. “You’d better worry about yourself. I hope you enjoy living like a nun in a cloistered convent for the rest of your miserable life.” Watching her strut away, a genuine smile spread across my face. Did she really think the Harrington family’s resurgence was due to Liam, a man whose only talents were drinking, gambling, and sleeping around? Liam Harrington was the kind of man who would personally deliver his own wife into another man’s bed just to secure a contract! I’ll gladly take the obsessive, devoted “Saint” over that piece of trash! 02 Though slightly reluctant, my parents agreed to Clara’s choice. Then, they turned their eyes to me: “Eleanor, since your sister wants the Harringtons, you will marry into the Sterling family.” They didn’t give me a chance to object, casually sealing my fate. Clara gloated. While applying heavy, club-ready makeup, she mocked me: “Eleanor, just accept your fate. Careful not to spend your whole life chained to a prayer mat!” I leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Sister, I hope you don’t end up chained to a bed, constantly servicing different men!” She thought trading marriages meant trading destinies. She had no idea that a person’s destiny is determined by their own choices, not by which man they marry. Clara froze, then raised her hand to slap me. I dodged backward with a smile, replacing it with a perfectly polite expression. “Mom, it’s getting late. Didn’t you say you called Arthur? He should be here to pick me up soon. I’m going to change.” After finalizing the engagements, my parents notified the Sterlings and the Harringtons, subtly suggesting we spend some time together to cultivate feelings. The Sterling estate was only a thirty-minute drive away. Arthur had agreed to take me out. As for Liam, he was probably blackout drunk in some VIP club right now. He didn’t even answer the phone. Clara’s face changed slightly. She glared at me so hard she practically burned a hole through my skull. When I came out in a fresh dress, Arthur had arrived. He sat next to my parents, discussing the details of the engagement ceremony with an entirely expressionless face. He had a sharp jawline and striking features, better looking than most Hollywood actors, and an aura as deep and calm as a still lake. No wonder Clara fell in love with him at first sight in our previous life. The moment Clara saw Arthur, she was completely captivated. Her eyes practically glued themselves to his body: “Arthur…” Arthur seamlessly shifted to a seat further away from her, avoiding her as if she were something filthy. The bright crystal chandelier illuminated his face but failed to light up those pitch-black, fathomless eyes. Clara shuddered. Just as she tried to salvage the situation, I interrupted: “Sister, what are you trying to say to my fiancé?” Hearing the word “fiancé,” both Clara and Arthur looked up at me. Clara’s expression was murderous; she looked ready to swallow me alive. But Arthur just watched me quietly, a flicker of an unreadable emotion crossing his dark eyes. I walked forward and naturally hooked my arm through his. “Mr. Sterling, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Arthur’s gaze drifted down to where my hand rested on his arm. He gave a faint, soft “Mm.” 03 I didn’t let go of his arm until we reached his car. I looked at him sincerely. “Mr. Sterling, thank you.” My parents only saw me as a corporate asset to be sold off. I had had enough of this suffocating household a long time ago. If Arthur hadn’t come to pick me up, I never would have escaped their grip today. “Why thank me? Aren’t we engaged to be married?” Arthur watched me quietly. His gaze made me a little flustered, but it also made my heart skip a beat. “…Right.” “What’s mine is yours. There’s no need to be polite. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you? Let me take you to a restaurant.” I patted my slightly empty stomach and nodded. I originally thought Arthur would take me to some strict vegan or ascetic retreat, but to my surprise, he drove me to a high-end Italian restaurant. It happened to be my absolute favorite place. “Mr. Sterling, are you sure we’re in the right place?” I couldn’t help but press my palms together apologetically. Wasn’t bringing him here a violation of his ascetic lifestyle? Arthur shook his head. “It’s fine. My faith requires me to discipline myself, not others. I have already eaten at home. Order whatever you’d like.” I didn’t hold back. Once seated, I ordered a salad and a massive plate of Bolognese pasta. Arthur asked, “Is that all you’re eating?” I nodded. “This is plenty.” I wasn’t a picky eater. In truth, after enduring the days in my past life where Liam tied me up like a dog, just having a warm meal was a blessing. Arthur held my gaze, lost in thought. Only when I was full and put down my fork did he speak calmly: “After we are married, I expect absolute loyalty in our marriage. If you fulfill your obligations as a wife, I will give you everything you could ever want.” “…Obligations?” My brain short-circuited. Without thinking, I blurted out, “Wait, aren’t you celibate? Like a monk?” Arthur corrected me: “I am a devout ascetic, not a monk.” I muttered to myself, “Then why does everyone call you the ‘Untouchable Saint’? I thought…” I don’t know if it was an illusion, but I saw him smile slightly. My heart suddenly started pounding wildly. Without knowing what came over me, I reached out and touched his brow. The moment my fingers brushed his warm skin, I realized what I had done and hastily pulled my hand back. But I was a step too late. Arthur froze, instinctively grabbing my hand. He held it tightly, refusing to let go. 04 “Ah, I’m so sorry!” I was mortified, wishing I could slap myself. Eleanor, Eleanor, how could you be seduced by a handsome face and do something so inappropriate? Fortunately, Arthur didn’t seem to mind my forwardness. His lips moved slightly. “It’s nothing.” When he dropped me off at home, we both silently agreed to pretend the hand-holding never happened. Before stepping out of the car, I joked, “Mr. Sterling, I hear your faith believes heavily in ‘destiny.’ In your eyes, are we destined for each other?” I didn’t expect him to answer. To my surprise, he nodded and said candidly, “Yes. Since a past life.” It was my turn to fall silent. How could I have had any connection to him in a past life? My miserable previous life was still vivid in my mind. A person can never forget what truly matters, just as they can never forget true hatred. I didn’t take his words seriously and didn’t argue. I just smiled faintly. “Then I’ll be sure to cherish this destiny.” I turned and walked toward the front door. When I casually glanced back, the headlights were still casting a pale glow into the night. Arthur hadn’t left yet. My heart fluttered. Just as I was about to turn back to him, Clara blocked me at the doorway. Clara’s face was twisted in rage, her lips smeared with a garish, blood-red lipstick. “Eleanor, you shameless bitch!” She lunged, trying to grab my hair. “Trying to seduce Arthur? I’ll kill you!” Seeing her act like a maniac, I almost died laughing. I sidestepped her sneak attack, letting her crash face-first onto the hardwood floor. I covered my mouth, stepping back a few paces: “Sister, it’s not even Thanksgiving, why are you bowing so low to me? The Sterling family might be powerful, but you don’t need to try that hard to suck up to me, do you?” Every word pierced her right in the ego. The reason Clara chose the Harrington family was that she was blinded by their superficial wealth. Deep down, she still viewed Arthur as her property, dreaming of having her cake and eating it too. Even if I were a complete stranger instead of Arthur’s fiancée in this life, I would never stand by and watch a toxic parasite like Clara ruin a good man. I laughed enough and added: “Are you feeling lonely waiting at home? You should check out the clubs and bars downtown. I bet the precious ‘prince’ you’re so obsessed with is partying in a VIP booth right now.” Clara didn’t know Liam’s true nature. She thought I was just trying to insult her fiancé. Her face filled with hatred: “Shut up! You’re not even worthy to be mentioned in the same breath as me! I hope you can still smile when you’re locked in a monastery eating plain oatmeal! By the time I’m the glamorous Mrs. Harrington draped in diamonds, even if you kneel on the ground and beg me, I won’t show you any mercy!” She angrily picked herself up from the floor, turned, and stomped back to her bedroom. I leaned lazily against the staircase, opening my phone to check the evening financial news. Tsk, tsk, tsk. The Harrington Group’s stock had dropped another ten percent. I hope they can hold out until the day Clara marries into the family. 05 The next day, when Liam sobered up and finally learned who his fiancée was, he rushed over to our house to apologize. He spewed absolute nonsense with a straight face: “Mr. and Mrs. Vance, I had a business dinner last night and accidentally drank too much. But don’t worry, our family’s business is getting back on track. Once Clara marries me, our current crisis will definitely be resolved.” I silently rolled my eyes. Of course the debt crisis would be resolved. Besides using her ten-million-dollar dowry to put out the immediate fires, Liam would force his future wife to sleep with clients to satisfy the twisted desires of the upper crust. For the monsters in high society, finding beautiful young girls to torment wasn’t hard. What was hard was finding playthings from prestigious, wealthy families. Perhaps only then could they experience the true thrill of conquest. In our past life, Liam seized every opportunity, treating me as a bargaining chip and subjecting me to horrific abuse, ultimately securing the investments he needed to flip his company’s fortune. The high-end galas Clara had envied so much were nothing but the gateways that repeatedly pushed me into hell. Clara was completely oblivious to the tragic fate awaiting her. She was incredibly smug, biting my ear to whisper: “Eleanor, just you wait! You’re destined to live like a widow anyway. Once you’re discarded, I’ll absolutely find a few men to play with you until you’re broken. Let’s see if Arthur still wants you when you’re a ruined mess!” I curled my lips into a mocking smile and raised my arm. Slap! The sharp sound cut off Clara’s endless cursing, as well as the conversation between Liam and my parents in the living room. The slap completely stunned Clara. She burst into tears: “Dad, Mom, and Liam! Look at her! Eleanor is bullying me!” My dad comforted Clara, then yelled at me: “Eleanor, what are you doing?! Apologize to your sister right now!” My parents had always heavily favored Clara. In my past life, when they saw I was driven to a dead end, not only did they refuse to bring me home, they even mocked me: “A married daughter is spilled water! You have to do whatever Liam tells you to do! If you want to stay clean, then go die! Wouldn’t death clean you up perfectly?” Yet, when Clara was caught cheating, my parents frantically ran to the Sterling family to beg for mercy. Although it didn’t work, the glaring contrast in their treatment was chilling. Living this second life, I saw many things clearly. For example, right now—the ones who deserved to die weren’t me, but these heartless, hypocritical parasites. I squeezed out a few tears: “Dad, do you know what sister just said to me? She actually told me she was going to have men sleep with me… Listen to her, is that something a human being says?!” Simultaneously, I watched Liam’s expression carefully. Sure enough, a dark cloud settled over Liam’s brow, and the look he shot Clara was far from friendly. He never expected his flawless, secret plan to be exposed so easily. Clara vehemently denied it, doing everything she could to throw dirty water back on me: “She’s lying! I never said that!” I anticipated her denial. I opened the voice recorder app on my phone and hit play. Just as the recording played the line “find a few men to play with you until you’re broken,” the butler rushed into the room in a panic: “Sir! Madam! It’s terrible! Mr. Sterling suddenly arrived, and I couldn’t stop him. He’s already forced his way in!” 06 Arthur’s figure was bathed in the morning light, as if enveloped in a sacred, inviolable halo. But his eyes were utterly freezing. Especially after hearing the final sentence of the recording, his cold gaze sliced through everyone in the room. My parents, sweating profusely, hurried forward to greet him. “Arthur! You should have let us know you were coming so we could have Eleanor wait for you outside.” Arthur sidestepped their overly eager touches and cut straight to the chase: “Skip the pleasantries. All I want to know is what Clara just said. Have her repeat it.” If Liam was embarrassed and angry a moment ago, he was now caught in a mix of terror and panic. He put on a harmless facade and said awkwardly: “Mr. Sterling, this is all a misunderstanding. We can talk this out…” Arthur’s response was a single, merciless word: “Scram.” The room instantly fell silent. Everyone knew Arthur was stoic, devoid of worldly desires, and calm as still water. No one had ever heard him tell someone to “scram.” But his power was absolute. He wasn’t someone you could afford to cross, let alone hide from. Except for me, every single face in the room was pale. Truth be told, I hadn’t fully grasped the situation either. I had only met Arthur twice. How did things escalate to him becoming violently furious for my sake? Before I could think further, Arthur walked right up to me and pulled me into his arms. “Eleanor, don’t be afraid. It’s okay now.” The faint, elegant scent of his incense filled my nose, pulling my thoughts back to a time long, long ago. An image flashed in my mind, then vanished like flowing water. I tried to break free from his embrace, but Arthur unexpectedly pressed me back down. I had no choice but to speak, muffled against his chest: “I’m fine. I’m really fine.” No matter what Liam or Clara said or did, I would never be easily manipulated by them again. How could someone who crawled back from hell be shaken by the words of scum? I smiled at Clara: “Sister, I pulled out the evidence. Don’t you think you owe me an apology?” Clara refused to lower her arrogant head, blindly hiding behind Liam. My dad, having lost face, didn’t want to scold his precious eldest daughter, nor did he dare offend his two wealthy sons-in-law. So, he took all his anger out on me: “Eleanor, is this over or not?! Stop causing a scene and go upstairs to your room right now!” See? Same as always. I had given up hope on him long ago. I just found it amusing. I replied calmly: “It’s not over, but I’m not playing with you anymore either. Don’t you all love Clara? Go ahead and put on your little show of a loving family.” Ignoring my parents’ shocked shouts, I took large strides out of the mansion. 07 Except for Arthur, who chased after me, no one else came out. I bet Clara was absolutely thrilled right now. No one would fight her for Liam, and she believed the billions of dollars of Vance family assets would be entirely hers. On the surface, a perfect, happy life seemed to be waving at her. But I knew the Vance family was far from the glamorous facade it presented. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been in such a rush to marry off their daughters for business alliances. Before long, the Vance family would declare bankruptcy due to insurmountable debt. In my previous life, my parents ruthlessly dumped the debt on me, taking the assets they had already secretly transferred overseas to live the high life. Clara didn’t know the truth about the bankruptcy. She thought I inherited the family business and resented me for it. Since she envied it so much, I’d gladly give her a push and hand the rotting mess of the Vance family over to her. Arthur followed me at a leisurely pace, as if worried I might do something drastic. I simply sat on a bench by the road and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine.” Arthur sat next to me, turning his head to look at me. He didn’t say a word, but just sitting there quietly was more than enough. I closed my eyes, memories of my past life flashing through my mind. Even if I did nothing, Clara would end up with a tragically miserable fate. But my enemies weren’t just her. Whether it was Liam or my parents, they were all executioners who pushed me into the abyss. Blood must be paid with blood. I proposed a deal: “Mr. Sterling, could you do me a favor? Once it’s done, the Sterling family’s assets will increase by at least two hundred million.” Surprisingly, Arthur didn’t agree immediately. Instead, he asked about my living arrangements. “What about you?” I pointed to myself. “Me? I have nowhere to go. Could you take me in for a while?” It was just a joke, but he seemed to take it seriously. His knuckles tightened as he gripped my hand. His voice was hoarse: “Alright. But you can never leave me.” Me: “?” 08 Fortunately, despite Arthur’s intimidating words, he didn’t do anything inappropriate. While living at the Sterling estate, I gathered plenty of evidence of the Vance family embezzling corporate funds and lining their own pockets. These would become critical links on my path to revenge. Three months later, on October 2nd, Liam and Clara held a lavish wedding. Clara wore a pristine white wedding gown, a massive diamond ring on her ring finger, and an utterly triumphant smile as she soaked up the guests’ flattery and congratulations. “Thank you for the blessing, Miss Lee. My Liam just loves spoiling me. I told him not to buy such an extravagant ring, but he actually had someone bring back a pink diamond from South Africa just for me. I heard it’s worth two hundred million.” “Mrs. Zhao, you’re here too? You noticed? Yes, I am pregnant. Thank you for your kind words—it’s definitely the eldest grandson and heir to the Harrington family.” “Oh, don’t worry, there will be plenty of opportunities. After all, I’m my parents’ and Liam’s only precious treasure now.” Clara smiled brilliantly. Until she saw me attend. Her smile froze instantly: “Eleanor, why are you here? Who let you in?” She waved her hand, planning to have security throw me out. The corners of my lips curled up slightly: “Clara, I’m not attending today as your sister, but as Mrs. Sterling. If you kick me out, are you turning down the Sterling family’s investment?” Even at its peak, the Harrington family was no match for the Sterlings, let alone in their current declining state. I smiled sweetly: “Sister, I hear you’re pregnant. You shouldn’t wear that artificially dyed pink diamond. Chemical dyes are harmful to your health. Be careful not to cause a miscarriage.” “Eleanor! Do you think I’d believe your nonsense?! Let me tell you, you will never enjoy wealth and glory like I do in this lifetime!” Clara stomped her foot in pure hatred and turned to greet other guests. I raised an eyebrow. She broke that easily. I hope she doesn’t die of anger later. An hour later, the ceremony officially began. My parents acted like loving, benevolent figures, as if they were genuinely comforted to see their daughter find her ultimate happiness. After the bride and groom exchanged rings, my parents announced they were gifting all their shares in the Vance family to Clara. The agreement was signed on the spot, effective immediately. The guests applauded my parents’ generosity, and Liam looked absolutely ecstatic. Clara shot me a triumphant glare and said in a sickly sweet voice: “Daddy, Mommy, you spoil me too much! There’s still my sis… Oh, I forgot. My sister was kicked out of the family for being unfilial. How pitiful.” Whispers broke out among the audience. The news of me cutting ties with the Vance family wasn’t a secret in our circle, but it hadn’t been confirmed. Many assumed there was still room for reconciliation. No one expected Clara to state it so blatantly at her wedding. For a moment, many looks directed at me were filled with pity or mockery.

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  • Shattered Diamonds, Reclaimed Crown

    Carter Vance won a priceless pink diamond at an auction. I thought he was finally going to propose to me. After all, we had been dating for seven years. His best buddy congratulated him, saying we were finally about to tie the knot. But I heard Carter ask in return, “When did I ever say I was marrying Maya?” “Who else would it be?” “The Vances are old money. How could my parents ever allow me to marry an orphan with nothing to her name? My family has already arranged a marriage with a woman of equal social standing. I’ll be proposing to her in a few days and announcing our engagement to the press.” His friend asked, “Then what about Maya?” Carter scoffed. “How can you mix love and business? I’ll just keep her as a mistress after I’m married. With her background, she should be on her knees thanking me.” 1 “Damn, Carter, but with Maya’s personality, would she really settle for being your side piece?” The grating voice drifted out from the VIP lounge. Through the crack in the door, under the dim, amber lighting, a faint smirk appeared on Carter’s handsome face. “She’s always been clingy, like a little puppy. As long as she gets to stay with me, she’ll do whatever I tell her.” The doorknob in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I couldn’t push it open. I didn’t want to anymore. I had been so full of joy, thinking he was going to propose to me tonight. I never imagined that he had factored me into his future in such an incredibly humiliating way—leaving me the disgusting, immoral position of a kept mistress. Anger flooded my mind. My emotions screamed at me to burst in there, slap him hard across the face, and demand to know why he was treating me like this. But my rationality reminded me that doing so would be pointless. It would only give their elite little circle another joke to laugh at about the poor girl who didn’t know her place. After weighing it in my mind, I let go of the doorknob and turned away. “Maya?!” A familiar voice called out. I turned around to see one of Carter’s friends walking down the hall. Inside the lounge, the loud voices eagerly guessing who their “new sister-in-law” would be abruptly went dead silent. “Did you just get here?” he asked. I forced a smile. “I’ve been standing at the door for a minute.” The moment the words left my mouth, the faces inside the room drained of color. From a short distance away, Carter and I looked at each other. Neither of us spoke. He still had that calm, breezy look on his face. He was absolutely certain that I loved him too deeply. He believed that no matter how awful his words were, I could never bear to leave him. Because of that, he was confident. He assumed I would do anything for him, even willingly become his dirty little secret. Suddenly, I found it all so meaningless. I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard his friend’s worried voice: “Carter, is she going to be mad?” “You should go after her and coax her.” Carter let out a low, dismissive scoff. “It’s fine. I know her personality. she won’t make a scene.” We had been together for seven years and lived together for three. Carter thought he knew me inside and out. In his eyes, I was quiet, gentle, and understanding. When we first got together, he told me that was his favorite thing about me. He said I was like a wild orchid—blooming quietly, never fighting for attention. Looking back now, that description made me sick. His so-called metaphor was a severe desecration of such a pure flower. 2 I drove back to our shared apartment. I packed my bags to leave. I remembered when we first moved in together. Carter had wrapped his arms around me and said, “Maya, hand in your two weeks’ notice. I’ll take care of you.” At the time, we both worked at Vance Corp. The difference was that I was just a junior sales manager, while he was the CEO of the entire empire. Hearing him say he would take care of me sounded incredibly sweet. Unfortunately, as someone who grew up with zero sense of security, I firmly believed in the survival rule of relying on myself rather than others. So, I refused. Back then, Carter had frowned. “Vance Corp is my company. You busting your ass all month for that chump change… is it really better than letting me take care of you?” A base salary of $8,000 a month plus commission—in his eyes, it was just “chump change.” I knew the gap between us all too well. Billionaires marry billionaires. Nobodies marry nobodies. And sadly, I was entirely alone in this world. I didn’t even have a family to speak of. I never expected to walk down the aisle with him. To me, as long as he loved me and I loved him, that was enough. Even if we couldn’t make it to the end, we could part on good terms. But he got angry. On our very first day in the new apartment, he gave me the cold shoulder. He ignored me for an entire month. I swallowed my pride and begged him to come around. Every day after work, I’d cook his favorite meals, waking up at three or four in the morning to meticulously prep his breakfast. After a month of me quietly delivering lunches to his office, he finally softened. His tone was irritable and displeased: “Maya, you are way too clingy.” Back then, I thought “clingy” was just playful banter between couples. Now, I was just thankful I hadn’t given up my career for a fleeting moment of romance. Two large suitcases held everything I owned from the past few years. I drove to my new home. It was a small apartment I had bought entirely with my own money—only 500 square feet. When I was house hunting, Carter had laughed at me. He couldn’t understand why I would turn down the luxury mansion he offered me, only to insist on buying a tiny, trashy apartment where you could barely turn around. He didn’t understand me. Just like I had never truly understood him. For three whole days, Carter didn’t realize I had moved out. He didn’t even send a single text demanding an explanation. Even though I was now the VP of Sales, I rarely bumped into Carter at the office. If he wasn’t going to look for me, I couldn’t be bothered to look for him. But one day, an uninvited guest arrived at the company. It was Chloe Harrington, the spoiled princess of the Harrington Group—the family with equal social standing to the Vances. Carter personally went down to the lobby to receive her. I was walking a client out when I bumped right into them. Carter gave me a curt nod, as if we were just the most ordinary of colleagues. He placed a hand on Chloe’s slender waist, guiding her into his private executive elevator. She must be the one. The future wife he had mentioned. The owner of that priceless pink diamond. Before the elevator doors closed, Chloe cast an inquiring look my way. Carter didn’t even spare me a glance. The employee elevator stopped on way too many floors. By the time I reached my office, the receptionist was standing at my door, looking deeply uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” I asked. The receptionist answered, “VP Maya, Mr. Vance said my skills aren’t good enough. He wants you to go to his office and make coffee for Miss Harrington.” 3 I was a little dazed. I thought I had misheard. The receptionist whispered a reminder: “Mr. Vance said to hurry. Miss Harrington is waiting.” I let out a breathless, angry laugh. What the hell was Carter doing? Did he seriously think he could make me serve coffee to the “official wife” before I even agreed to be his mistress? I was absolutely speechless and entirely repulsed. But I didn’t want to make things difficult for my coworker. “I’ll head over. You go back to your desk.” Looking grateful, the receptionist trotted back to her station. I went to the breakroom, brewed a fresh cup of artisan coffee, and carried it to the CEO’s office. I knocked on the door. Carter’s light, cheerful voice called out from inside, “Come in.” It was obvious that Miss Harrington, his new fling, pleased him greatly. I pushed the door open, only to see Chloe sitting directly on Carter’s lap, covering her mouth as she giggled flirtatiously. She was wearing a pastel designer tweed suit that perfectly complimented her flushed, delicate cheeks. She looked like a blooming, exquisite flower. Carter looked up at me. With a cold, detached expression, he tapped his finger on the desk, signaling me to place the cup there. But Chloe suddenly spoke up: “Hand it to me.” Standing across the large mahogany desk, I reached over to hand her the cup. Chloe didn’t reach out. She lightly tapped the desk, gesturing for me to walk all the way around and place it directly into her hand. Suppressing the intense discomfort in my chest, I set the coffee cup down on the desk instead. “Serving coffee is outside my job description, and Miss Harrington is not my client. I hope our CEO remembers the company’s HR policies and refrains from casually harassing his employees.” I turned to leave. But Carter barked, “Stop right there!” “Is Vance Corp too small to hold your massive ego now?” Was he using my job to threaten me? Thinking about the massive contract I was about to close—and the six-figure commission check attached to it—I held my ground. I stopped in my tracks. The moment I turned back around, I didn’t miss the fleeting sneer on Carter’s face. He was mocking me. Mocking me, the orphan with nothing to her name, for compromising because of his light threat. Perhaps he already knew I had moved out of our home, but he simply didn’t care enough to acknowledge it. He probably thought that as long as he gave the word, I would come running back like an obedient dog. Chloe giggled. “Carter, the people at Vance Corp really don’t respect the hierarchy, do they? If she were at Harrington Group, she’d be fired instantly with an attitude like that.” Carter looked at me with deep, meaningful eyes. His voice was heavy. “She definitely needs to be taught a lesson.” When you love someone, words like that can be interpreted as playful banter. But when the love is gone, they just sound unbelievably toxic. I picked up the hot coffee again, walked halfway around the desk, and handed it to Chloe. The moment Chloe wrapped her fingers around the handle, I let go. But suddenly, the scalding coffee splashed out, raining down on the back of my hand. In an instant, my skin flared an angry, blistering red. The cup shattered against the floor. Chloe shrieked and buried her face into Carter’s chest. “Carter! It burned my hand! It hurts so much!” she cried, playing the victim. She held up a slightly pink fingertip, sobbing to Carter. Carter’s face went dark. He glared at me with sheer irritation and cursed, “How the hell do you do things?! You’re as stupid as a pig! I don’t know how you ever got promoted to VP of Sales!” 4 The back of my hand was burning, sending shooting pain up my arm. His insult—stupid as a pig—put me in a daze. Years ago, when I secretly passed the interviews to join Vance Corp just to surprise him, I vividly remember him praising me for being brilliant. I had been at Vance Corp for six years. I put my life on the line for this job, just to close the gap between us and give our future a fighting chance. I saw reality clearly, but I refused to accept my fate. I climbed my way up from a regular employee to the VP position, step by step. Yet here he was, calling me stupid, saying I couldn’t even serve a cup of coffee. It was laughable. “Is the CEO questioning Vance Corp’s hiring matrix? If you disagree with my position as VP of Sales, you are welcome to file a motion with the board of directors. Instead of launching brainless, personal attacks at me in this office.” “And let me reiterate: my job description does not include serving coffee to irrelevant bystanders.” I clutched my scalded hand and turned to leave. Carter stepped around the desk and grabbed my wrist. “Apologize to Chloe.” His grip was incredibly strong. He yanked my freshly burned hand, sending a spike of agony through me. I couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp of pain. He instantly let go. The shocking, blistering red burn on my wrist and the back of my hand was fully exposed. I looked up at him, my voice ice-cold. “There are security cameras in the CEO’s office. It’s crystal clear who’s at fault here. I think Miss Harrington should be the one apologizing to me.” A flash of panic crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly masked it. “I didn’t expect Miss Maya to be so good at playing the victim.” Doubt flickered in Carter’s eyes. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Say whatever you want. If you’re not satisfied, you and Miss Harrington can call the cops.” I turned and walked out. Despite Chloe’s obvious fury, Carter didn’t try to stop me again. Looking at the burn on my hand, I remembered there was a first-aid kit in the breakroom. As I approached the breakroom, I heard a few female employees gossiping inside. “Is Miss Harrington going to be our future CEO’s wife?” “It’s a done deal! Mr. Vance has never brought a woman to the office before. She’s the first!” “I heard from the receptionist that VP Maya was called in to serve her coffee. Maya is a Vice President! Making her serve coffee… Mr. Vance really values Miss Harrington.” Someone lowered their voice. “I honestly thought VP Maya and Mr. Vance were a thing. Guess I was wrong.” “Mr. Vance did treat Maya differently, but who wouldn’t like a capable leader like her?” “It’s all about old money marrying old money nowadays. Maya might be great, but compared to Mr. Vance, she falls short.” “More than just short! Word on the street is Maya’s an orphan. The Vances are billionaires. Even if they really dated, the Vance family would never let her marry in…” I walked in, and the chatter came to a dead halt. 5 Back in my office, just as I finished applying the burn ointment, Carter called my phone. “You blocked my number on your personal phone?” His first sentence was an accusation. “Mr. Vance, if it’s about work, you can reach me on the company’s messaging app.” “Maya. You’ve got nerve.” Even through the receiver, I could hear him grinding his teeth. “I’m waiting in Parking Level 1. Come down right now.” I frowned, about to refuse, when he added, “Don’t make a scene and embarrass us both.” Maybe it was time to make things crystal clear. I replied, “Fine.” In the underground parking garage, Carter was leaning against his car door, looking down, lost in thought. When he saw me, he opened the passenger door. “Get in. Let’s talk.” I gave a dry, exasperated smile. Nobody at the company knew about our relationship. Even if there were rumors, they were never confirmed. At first, I was the one who wanted to keep it a secret for the sake of my career. Later, he became the one who wanted it hidden. Now that he was getting married, did he really need to sneak around just to meet his girlfriend? He handed me a tube of prescription burn cream. I shook my head. “It’s already bandaged.” Carter let out a soft “Hmm.” “You always did know how to take care of yourself.” I smiled silently. “That’s why, Carter… let’s break up.” Carter froze. Then he gave a cold laugh. “Maya, we’ve been together for seven years, and now you’re telling me you want to break up?” A wave of powerless anger surged in my chest. “Carter, you’re getting married. Do you seriously expect me to stick around and be your dirty little secret? Seven years. You said it yourself, it’s been seven years. Do you even have a heart?” I turned my face away. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. He felt like a complete stranger. Carter tapped his long fingers against the steering wheel, his tone perfectly composed. “What’s wrong with being my mistress? You can still be the VP of Sales at Vance Corp. If you don’t want to work anymore, I’ll support you. You can have kids if you want, or not if you don’t. A comfortable, pressure-free life. What’s so bad about that?” “Is it really that hard to accept reality?” I looked up at him, unable to comprehend how he could say something so abhorrent with such a straight face. The man who used to look at me like I hung the moon, the man who promised to spend the rest of his life with me… how did he turn into this? So, his version of “spending the rest of his life with me” was keeping me stashed away in a penthouse, treating me like a useless trophy waiting to be fed? “Let’s just part on good terms. You wouldn’t want me ruining your family’s perfectly calculated, elite marriage, would you?” Carter’s calm facade finally cracked. 6 Truthfully, my savings were enough to sustain me for a very, very long time. I probably wouldn’t even need to work for the rest of my life. But I was greedy. The security that a man couldn’t give me, the numbers in my bank account could. The massive contract I was handling was almost finalized, and I couldn’t bear to walk away from that huge commission. So, I kept delaying turning in my resignation letter. After my ugly fallout with Carter, the next time I saw him was on a plane. It was a mandatory business trip to Chicago. I had no idea he was going to be there. Or rather, he went specifically because of me. The colleague who was supposed to accompany me bailed at the last minute, claiming an emergency. On this trip, it was just me and him. The hotel had also booked single rooms. He claimed the hotel was fully booked and there was only one room left. What a cheap, pathetic trick. I immediately turned around and booked a room at the hotel across the street. Carter’s face went pitch black. He asked me out to dinner. I refused. He offered to bring food to my room. I refused that, too. Since we broke up, I wanted a clean, absolute break. But he showed up at my door anyway. “Maya, give me the contract. I need to review it one more time,” Carter said in a low voice through the door. I grabbed the contract we were signing tomorrow, cracked the door open, and handed it to him. But Carter shoved his way inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, pinning my wrists and pressing me hard against the back of the door. His heavy breathing echoed in my ear. His voice was hoarse. “Maya.” “Maya.” “Why won’t you drop this useless pride and just enjoy being with me?” “Don’t you love me anymore?” I pushed back with all my might, but I couldn’t move him an inch. “Carter, don’t make me hate you!” I bit down hard on his shoulder, which only enraged him. He threw me onto the soft hotel bed and violently ripped my blazer open. The moment he pressed his body over mine, I braced my leg and kneed him as hard as I could right between the legs. He curled up in agony. I bolted out of the hotel room. The early spring night was biting cold. I remembered back in college, when the distinguished alumni returned to give a lecture. The university had chosen me to present him with flowers. He told me I had a beautiful smile, especially my dimples. That polite, charming gentleman was a stark contrast to the beast who had just assaulted me. The cold wind slapped my cheeks, leaving them freezing. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I wiped my face, telling myself to hold it together. I just needed to get through this one obstacle. It was nothing I couldn’t handle. I had made it this far. I was just one contract away. Even if I had to grit my teeth until they shattered, I was going to finish this project. I sat outside for a long time. Only after I saw Carter leave the hotel did I finally return to my room, my heart still pounding in my chest. The room was a mess, documents scattered everywhere. I spent ages organizing everything. The next day, I arrived at the signing venue as planned. Carter was already sitting there, his face unreadable. I could tell he was furious, so much so that his jaw was still tightly clenched. I checked the time. I was fifteen minutes early, and the client hadn’t arrived yet. “Mr. Vance,” I said, taking a seat with perfect composure. Carter gave me a half-smile. “Maya, did you know?” “This deal has been canceled.” 7 I couldn’t believe it. That was impossible. The terms were fully negotiated. We were at the finish line. Why would the client back out now? “Mr. Vance, is this a joke?” Carter looked at me, amused. “Do I look like I’m joking?” “What reason did the client give?” Carter said nothing. I pulled up the client’s number on my phone and dialed. The client sighed helplessly. “This was your CEO’s decision. Mr. Vance said Vance Corp is no longer interested in taking this project.” I stared at Carter in total disbelief. “What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled. A multi-million dollar project, and he just scraps it on a whim?! Did he know how many evaluations I ran, how much blood and sweat I poured into this? With a single, flippant sentence, he negated all the hard work me and my team had done. Carter lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him. “I told you. Except for the title of ‘wife,’ I can give you everything.” “But naturally, if you refuse to behave, I will take things away.” I froze in place. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “I was too greedy.” Carter finally smiled, like a hunter who had successfully trapped his favorite prey. Grabbing my briefcase, I headed straight for the airport. In the departure lounge, I hit “send” on the resignation letter sitting on my laptop desktop. Exhausted, I finally made it back to my little apartment, only to find a scene that made me shake with rage. The hallway walls were spray-painted in bright colors with horrific slurs: [HOMEWRECKER], [SLUT], [TRASH]. My front door was wide open, the inside completely ransacked. My clothes, toiletries, and documents were scattered all over the floor. The furniture I had just bought was smashed to pieces. I trembled uncontrollably. An unknown number called my phone. I answered, and a familiar voice came through the speaker. It was Chloe Harrington. “Miss Maya, I wonder if you like the gift I sent you?” Her delicate giggles echoed through the phone, grating on my nerves. “There are some men that someone of your status shouldn’t even dream of. Let me give you some advice: stay far away from Carter Vance.” I hung up and called 911. Unfortunately, the hallway security cameras were conveniently broken. Without solid proof, the police couldn’t do anything. I packed whatever was salvageable and crashed at a friend’s place for a while. My resignation process hit a roadblock at the final step. Carter refused to sign off on it. HR told me Mr. Vance wouldn’t budge, and their hands were tied. I asked Carter to meet me. I smiled and asked, “Didn’t you want me to quit my job and stay by your side? What, you don’t want that anymore?” Carter’s eyes filled with affection. He leaned in and pulled me into a hug. “I was worried you had other plans. Maya, isn’t this so much better?” “Don’t live in that dump anymore. Let’s move to a mansion in the hills. “If you really want, we can even have a private wedding ceremony overseas.” Where he couldn’t see, my smile vanished. I whispered, “In your dreams.” 8 The day all my salary, commissions, and bonuses were finally deposited into my account. I changed my phone number and got on a flight to Seattle. The world is huge. Hiding from one person is incredibly easy. I heard from friends that Carter went crazy looking for me. When he found out Chloe had trashed my apartment, he personally went and smashed up Chloe’s favorite luxury villa, and even severed all business ties with the Harrington Group. But eventually, the elders of the Vance family suppressed the chaos. Carter’s father had quite a few illegitimate children, and even his mother had a daughter from an affair. Carter was merely the nexus of his parents’ financial interests. No one was going to let him throw a tantrum without consequences. When his father prepared to elevate one of the competent illegitimate sons to power, his mother intervened, and Carter finally surrendered. The pink diamond Carter had bought at a premium was finally slipped onto Chloe Harrington’s finger. On the day of their engagement, the media aggressively pushed the narrative of a perfect, elite “old money” fairytale. Meanwhile, I bet everything I had and took over the multi-million dollar project that Carter had killed. I convinced a few of my trusted team members to leave Vance Corp and start a firm with me. Without Carter, I realized I wasn’t nearly as heartbroken as I expected to be. I no longer had to endure his subtle jabs at my background. I no longer had to stress over his constant dismissal of my abilities. And I certainly no longer had to worry if we had a future together. Less emotional drain, more actual work. My life became richer and more fulfilling. At a standard business gala, I bumped into a handsome young man who looked oddly familiar. He laughed, saying I seemed very approachable, and handed me a few medium-sized contracts. My company steadily stabilized. The day he showed up at my office with a DNA test, I was completely stunned. He hugged me, crying his eyes out. “Sister! I finally found you.” Relying on the caution of a grown adult, I insisted we do another DNA test. When the results came back, I really was his biological sister. When I was four, my parents took me on a trip, and I accidentally got lost. While searching for me, they got into a horrific car crash. My father died on the spot, and my mother fell into a vegetative state. She was still lying in a hospital bed today. My childhood memories were so blurry I could barely remember any of it. I felt a wave of bittersweet emotion. I thought I had been alone my entire life. Turns out, I had a family. My brother, Leo, organized a small, private welcome-home dinner for me. Our family was small—just my stern, intimidating grandfather, Arthur Sterling, and my younger brother, Leo. After the dinner, Leo looked at me with aching eyes. “Sis, our family is loaded. You never have to work so hard ever again!” During my startup phase, I regularly worked past midnight, surviving on three or four hours of sleep. But I never felt it was a burden; I actually loved it. I knew my brother managed a massive fortune, but I had my own career to build. “I like working,” I told him. Grandpa Sterling chimed in: “If your sister likes it, let her do it. Hand over some of those major projects you’re holding onto and let her run them.” 9 I was in a daze. The projects Leo handed over to me were astronomically larger than I ever imagined. The Sterling family was vastly wealthier than I had assumed. I finally had the backing to stop hiding and evading Carter’s search. We ran into each other at a high-society cocktail party. Clutching a wine glass, his eyes red, he walked straight toward me. “Maya. You sure know how to hide.” He grabbed my hand, trying to drag me into a secluded corner. I violently ripped my hand away. “Mr. Vance, please conduct yourself.” Carter raised an eyebrow in shock, his voice thick with emotion. “Maya, do you really not miss me?” Miss him? Not at all. The name ‘Carter Vance’ had long been buried under my busy schedule. Aside from occasionally catching his name in the tabloids, reminding me he existed, I rarely ever thought about him. I gave a polite, tight-lipped smile. “Mr. Vance is a man of incredible status. How could a commoner like me dare to miss you?” He gripped my hand tightly, pleading in despair: “Maya, I was wrong. I was so damn wrong.” “Maya, I only feel at peace when you’re by my side.” “I’ll break off the engagement with the Harringtons. You and I can—” I cut him off. “We’ve gone our separate ways. Who you marry has absolutely nothing to do with me.” Carter tried to keep pestering me, but Leo stepped in and shut him down. The next day, Chloe Harrington marched up to me, slamming a stack of photos onto the table. They were pictures of Carter harassing me at the gala. She screamed at the top of her lungs: “Do you have no shame?! Carter is engaged to me! Why are you still seducing him?!” I set down my fork. A perfectly good meal, completely ruined by her. I had booked this exclusive restaurant weeks in advance. I finally found the time to enjoy it, only to be rudely interrupted. “Miss Harrington, you really never know who to blame, do you? You only ever target the people you think are weaker.” It was clearly Carter’s fault, yet she wouldn’t dare confront him. Instead, she came hunting for an innocent bystander to interrogate. Last time, she hired thugs to trash my apartment because Carter went crazy. And now, she only dared to come after me. Bullying the weak while fearing the strong—pathetic. I enunciated every word: “I think you need to get your facts straight. I am not seducing Carter Vance. He is the one harassing me.” Chloe completely lost it. She cried and screamed: “If you hadn’t suddenly shown up, he would never have changed his mind! I’m already pregnant, and he’s trying to call off the engagement! He’s so cruel!” I was shocked. I didn’t realize Carter’s moral baseline was that low. Chloe was pregnant, and he was refusing to take responsibility? And he was trying to use his “undying love” for me as an excuse to dump her? His character disgusted me even more.

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  • The Control Group: Surviving My Sociopath Mother

    My mother is a sociopath disguised as a brilliant scientist. She devoted her life to proving a twisted hypothesis: that those born into poverty are inherently incapable of possessing true virtue. To prove this, she turned me into an experimental control subject, separating me from my glamorous twin sister right after birth and sending me to live in an impoverished, secluded area in the Appalachian mountains. I worked myself to the bone, even selling plasma illegally just to scrape together a thousand dollars for tuition and a bus ticket out of that hellhole. On my way, I ran into a disabled woman who claimed she had lost her money. It was a setup arranged by my mother. I ruthlessly refused to help her. Meanwhile, back in the city, my sister—raised in luxury, the golden child—didn’t hesitate for a second to give the woman all her allowance. My mother decided I was cruel and cold-blooded. She cut off the meager monthly stipend she paid to my adoptive parents in the mountains. Left with nothing, during my senior year, they quickly married me off to the town drunk—a widower rumored to have beaten his first wife to death. Later, after the experiment was declared a resounding success, my mother wept tears of joy as she embraced my sister on national television. She didn’t even remember she had another daughter, beaten to death just days before. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the moment I met that disabled woman asking for a bus ticket. And the hidden camera on her button is broadcasting my choice to an audience of millions worldwide. 1 “Excuse me, dear, I’m lost… could you spare some money for a bus ticket home?” The woman standing before me had a dark complexion from working in the sun, and she walked with a heavy limp, leaning on a cane. She held up a disability certification card. Before I could even process the phantom pain of my brutal death, lines of scrolling text suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [LiveChat] [Is this the older sister? The control subject? She looks so miserable compared to the sister. I wonder if she’ll help.] [Look at her clothes. They look like handouts from twenty years ago. She’s obviously poor as dirt; there’s no way she’s got a good heart.] [That disabled woman looks so pitiable. Why is the older girl just staring? Her sister in the other stream is already in tears.] I blinked. Looking down, I could only see my own hands—rough, calloused, and covered in dirt from farm work. The LiveChat was real. I wasn’t dreaming. In my past life, I had run away from my adoptive parents, who kept me under lock and key, just to scrounge up enough money for college. I had spent days on the road, hitching rides on tractors, covered in dust, finally making it to the county seat. Luckily, in that small, desperate place, the illegal plasma banks didn’t check IDs. I managed to sell enough plasma to get a thousand dollars. Who knew that on my way home, I would encounter this so-called disabled woman. She claimed she lost her travel money and wanted to go home. Sobbing, she begged me to buy her a ticket. I didn’t agree. Aside from the fact that she immediately asked for nine hundred dollars when the cheapest bus ticket was barefly three hundred, I saw something. The gold bracelet on her wrist. It was worth at least five thousand. The woman flashed her disability card like it was a royal decree, practically shoving it in my face. She was clearly hoping I wouldn’t notice it lacked the mandatory government seal. In my previous life, I was severely anemic after selling blood. My natural resting-bitch-face, combined with a face white as a sheet, actually intimidated her. My cold stare forced her back a few steps. She cursed at me and stomped away. Later, I found out it was all a setup by my so-called mother, a woman obsessed with her manicured “scientific research.” She wanted to prove that poor people are inherently immoral. To do that, she made me the control subject against my sister’s pampered life. As soon as I was born, I was banished to an isolated, poverty-stricken rural town. Here, surviving was a struggle, and college was an impossible dream. But I refused to give up my only chance to change my destiny. Even though my adoptive parents forced me to work in the fields every single day, whether it was freezing or burning hot. Even when they tried to make me drop out to farm the overgrown, desolate half of their property. I studied like my life depended on it. That thousand dollars meant everything to me. But my sister was different. She had been pampered since infancy, enrolled in elite ballet, piano, and singing lessons. Wearing a custom-made princess dress, she took the stage under dazzling spotlights and confidently won the title of the youngest champion in a national piano competition. And I? I could only stand in the dusty town square on market day, staring at the television through the window of a wealthier family’s home, eyes full of envy. 2 [LiveChat] [Why is the older sister just standing there like a statue? She obviously doesn’t want to give up the money.] [Ugh, boring. I’m switching to the other sister’s stream.] The chat stream scrolled by, and someone posted a video link. Curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked it. It was my sister’s stream. The same setup. A disabled person who had lost their travel money. But the scene was entirely different. My sister was wearing a tailored private school uniform, her face beaming with health. With a tearful, sympathetic look, she gently helped up a woman with a fake limp. Without hesitation, she handed over her bulging wallet. I caught a glimpse inside—it was packed with hundred-dollar bills. At least two or three thousand dollars. The audience, seeing my sister’s glistening eyes, absolutely lost their minds. [LiveChat] [She’s an angel. Truly beautiful inside and out. I heard she’s also top of her class at that elite Academy. The older sister doesn’t even look like a student; she’s probably failing.] The chat stream was flooded with praises for my sister. I noticed my sister subtly moving, adjusting her angle so her face was perfectly in frame, away from a direct view of her backpack. But a tiny, faint, specific cold light—the blue light unique to an iPhone screen—was reflecting out from a corner of her open bag. As soon as she sensed the chat was completely on her side, the corners of her mouth twitched. Her eyes curved into triumphant crescents. Of course. This experiment was rigged from the start. Knowing she was being watched, my sister would obviously make the perfect choice for the camera. Only I was kept in the dark. I had been living a lie, thinking I could escape these mountains and fly toward my own sky. I never imagined my life was just a massive production of The Truman Show. Seeing the LiveChat grow impatient again. [Older sister is a total dud. No virtue, just like the hypothesis says. Discard.] The disabled woman seemed to get her cue. She started rolling on the ground, wailing, trying to emotionally blackmail me. “Young people have no heart! Won’t even help an old woman get home. I can’t get back to my three-year-old son! He’s probably crying for his mommy right now!” Her wailing attracted a crowd. Passersby who didn’t know the full story started pointing fingers at me. They accused me of being cold-hearted, disrupting public order by causing a scene in the street. I didn’t care. In front of everyone, I walked over to the public payphone booth and dialed 911. Fortunately, in this country, a 911 call is always free. “Yes, I need to report a scam. There’s a woman outside the bus station committing fraud.” [LiveChat] […] The woman pretending to be disabled froze, the LiveChat came to a grinding halt. A split second later, the chat exploded. [LiveChat] [Are you kidding me? Who calls the cops for this?! Bitch!] [Wait, fraud? Did she actually notice something? I’m dying to know how.] When the police arrived, the disabled woman finally snapped out of it and tried to run. She was no longer acting weak and helpless; her “limp” miraculously cured. “Look, kid, just let me go. I was just trying to make a buck. Why did you have to involve the cops?” The woman was practically begging now. As the silver cuffs were clicked onto her wrists, her legs suddenly became perfectly fine. The officer looked at me, curious. “How did you catch on?” I was polite. “She claimed to be local, but her accent was completely wrong. It sounded like she was faking it.” “A disabled person with a severe limp wouldn’t leave home without a crutch or cane. It would make walking too difficult.” “And because the weight distribution on her feet would be unequal, the soles of her shoes would be worn down unevenly.” I managed to crack a smile, though it probably looked forced on my anxious face. “Most importantly, a legitimate disability ID card must have the proper government seal.” The officer looked impressed, praising my sharp eye. The previously silent LiveChat finally reacted. [LiveChat] [Holy… that logic was solid. The sister is actually smart!] [Her face isn’t bad when she smiles. If her skin was better, she’d be identical to her sister.] [But wait, comparing them… is it just me, or is the younger sister actually kind of stupid? Who hands their entire wallet to a random stranger? That’s not kindness, that’s just dumb.] The chat stream was suddenly swinging completely in my favor. I let out a breath, thinking I had escaped the agonizing fate of my previous life. But then, my sister’s fanatical followers woke up. They unleashed unadulterated malice online. [LiveChat] [LMAO, she thinks she won. Rumor has it the Director is pissed that this choice didn’t prove the control subject hypothesis. There’s going to be a ‘bonus’ test.] [The older sister won’t pass this next one.] 3 Seeing the text, my breath hitched. I didn’t understand why, despite being my biological mother, she treated us so differently. In my past life, based on this rigged experiment, she had casually labeled me as inherently evil with no possibility of redemption. She stopped the monthly thousand-dollar check to my adoptive parents. And in the middle of my critical senior year… They put a sack over my head, tied me up with thick rope, and delivered me to the widowed town drunk who had already beaten his first wife to death. I still remembered that day was my birthday. The town’s public loudspeaker was broadcasting my mother’s birthday wishes for my sister. To celebrate her golden child’s eighteenth birthday. She had purchased airtime on every radio channel globally to broadcast a “Happy Birthday” song in over a dozen languages. And while that happened, I was being forced onto a filthy, cold grass mat, heavy fists smashing into my body, one after another. Until I could no longer hear the words: “Happy Birthday, Penelope. Mommy loves you so much, baby…” My chest felt tight with a bitter, old ache. For a split second, I wanted to run to the city and scream in that cold-blooded woman’s face. But a second later, I noticed a surge in the crowd around the station. Strangers with the “Vance Labs” patch on their sleeves were closing in on me from all sides. They were blocking every entrance and exit, sealing off any chance of escape. [LiveChat] [Is she thinking of running? She was looking at the tickets for a long time.] [Nah, where would she run? Vance Labs security will grab her and throw her back in.] I lowered my eyes and walked back onto the path toward “home” with a blank face. I couldn’t run. Not like this. Not totally unprepared and defeated. One day, I would claim my freedom out in the open. 4 Because I got home so late, I got a vicious beating. A switch was used on my already scarred back. After the foster father beat me until he was out of breath, he looked at me with an unusual expression. “Neighboring Graves family is bringing a new bride tomorrow. You help out over there.” The LiveChat, which had been mostly people commenting “too brutal to watch,” immediately perked up. [LiveChat] [The test is here. Rumor has it this one is impossible. Good luck to the bitch.] I touched my collar. Something hard was hidden in the fabric. A lab technician must have attached it without me noticing. I didn’t rip it off. I let them watch. The next day, a luxury black Mercedes pulled into the dusty village. It seemed absurdly out of place. A young girl in a white dress jumped out of the car. Her expensive shoes hit the mud, sending splatters onto the leather. Her face immediately twisted in disgust. A second later, she put on a beaming smile, transforming back into a perfect, innocent girl next door. [LiveChat] [Penelope is here?!] [Live chat is lit! Her fan base is exploding.] [Don’t get it wrong, guys. Mom lied to Penelope, told her she was filming a reality TV show about rural life. She definitely doesn’t know about the experiment!] [I heard Penelope is playing the role of a kidnapped college student. So excited to see how the sister handles this.] Penelope smiled into the camera, looking radiant. Then her gaze flickered toward me. My foster father stood next to me, shrinking back self-consciously. He laughed awkwardly and scurried over to Penelope to suck up to her. My foster mother shoved me hard. “Go serve her.” Inside the cool, dark mud-brick house, I handed Penelope a cup of water. She casually took it, her fine, pale hands showing they were accustomed to piano keys and expensive lotions, not labor. She took a sip before speaking slowly. “Can you help me?” [LiveChat] [The test is beginning!] She said, looking embarrassed, “Actually, I’m a college student who was kidnapped. They’re saying they want to marry me off to one of the town bachelors.” A flash of malice darted through my sister’s eyes. “You look around the same age as me. Could you marry him instead of me?” The “bachelor” she was talking about was the widower who would kill me in my past life. His family was dirt poor and drowning in gambling debt. He didn’t have the money to buy a bride, nor could he afford a Mercedes. The only way he could get a bride was if someone else paid for her. Or, perhaps, if he was part of an elaborate setup. I looked at the perfectly manicured, perfectly innocent-looking girl, and then at the chat where people were cheering. “Sure.” I didn’t even look up. “If you are actually being kidnapped.” Regardless of the reasons, kidnapping is a serious, horrifying crime. It shouldn’t be entertainment. It shouldn’t be reduced to a “reality TV” choice in a sick mother’s game. “I’ll take you to see a woman who actually was kidnapped.” 5 “Let go of me! You are insane! Where are you taking me?” Penelope’s expensive shoes were struggling through the thick, muddy paths of the village. In the most neglected corner of the village. Inside a place that was essentially a pigpen. Lived a woman whose mind had broken long ago. The putrid stench of waste hit us. Penelope instinctively covered her mouth and nose, dry-heaving. [LiveChat] [Why did the experiment stop?! The control subject is being so aggressive. Where is she taking poor Penelope? Someone stop her!] [Is she trying to mug Penelope? She probably wants her expensive accessories.] The chat only went silent when the woman in the pigpen suddenly stood up and the camera got a direct shot of her. Yellow and red stains covered her filthy body, and pieces of it fell onto Penelope’s dress as she stumbled. Penelope shrieked and ripped off her expensive private school blazer. She hissed, “You filthy bitch! Do you know how much this jacket cost?” The woman kept acting out, grabbing at things. But I calmly reached out, holding the woman still and using my own old jacket to wrap her exposed, filthy skin. “Auntie Evelyn, your chance to escape is here.” Evelyn’s chaotic, unfocused gaze suddenly cleared. She looked at me in disbelief. “Really?” I nodded. When I was three years old, a beautiful woman arrived in the village. Rumor was she was a college student. She was a rarity in this backward place. Back then, I was treated like a wild dog by my foster parents, chained to a wooden stake, sleeping in a crate. They used to mutter inside their house. “She says they just need enough to live. We can barely afford to feed her, and she wants to live in a real house? We barely have enough space for ourselves.” I used to think I was a wild dog, grateful for any scraps I got. Until Evelyn Reed reached her tolerance limit. She broke her own confinement one night, broke into my crate, and held me tight. She told me. “You are a little girl. You have a long, beautiful life ahead of you. You are not meant to be caged in this horrible little village.” Auntie Evelyn taught me to read, taught me morality and philosophy. She begged me to study hard, to use education to claw my way out of this hell and fly to a bigger, broader world. She had been a teacher and gathered a few of the village kids together, starting the very first rudimentary “school.” But on the day I “graduated” the eighth grade, Evelyn ran. She hid in the truck of a pig farmer heading to town, buried under filthy animal waste. When the villagers caught her, they beat her until she only had one breath left. Her hair was torn out; she looked insane. Her “husband” had pointed righteously at their few-months-old son. “You heartless bitch, how could you run? The baby is so small! I’m going to beat the run right out of you!” I was forced outside, but I could hear Auntie Evelyn screaming. She sobbed, her voice raw. “I have years of education from a top university! I wanted to be a federal judge, to be near my parents, not trapped in this hell, reduced to a breeding cow…” After that, Auntie Evelyn went insane. She volunteered to live in the pigpen. She preferred living among waste than ever going back to that man’s house. But I knew she wasn’t insane. She secretly continued my education, preparing me for high school in the town. Auntie Evelyn gave me her secretly hidden gold bracelet, telling me to sell it for tuition. Later, the money ran out. I had to illegally sell plasma to pay for my senior year. I had been right on the edge of the Dawn, ready to take the entrance exam for that same university she went to… and then I died just before I could take the first step. 6 In this mountainous, secluded village, trying to escape by foot was a death sentence. I wanted to use the live stream. I wanted to force Penelope’s Vance Labs production crew to take Auntie Evelyn with them. They had security people everywhere. Buying her freedom would be effortless. [LiveChat] [Oh my god… Evelyn is so pitiable. Penelope is so kind, she’ll definitely save her.] [She was a top university graduate! This is horrifying.] Chat comments started urging Penelope to help. Penelope couldn’t see the chat. She bit her lip. “But… this isn’t right.” “Doesn’t Auntie Evelyn have a child? That poor little boy won’t have a mother. So sad.” “She’s a mother! Women are weak, but mothers are strong. For her child, she can just endure it, right?” My rage, which I had been suppressing, finally exploded. I knew Penelope was just afraid of the hassle. She didn’t want a filthy, crazy-acting woman as baggage. But a child is not an excuse for a mother to endure torture. It is the chain that binds her freedom. “It was not a voluntary child, so it is not a reason to endure! It is the shackle that imprisons her!” I reached out and grabbed her shoulder, finding the hidden camera lens. I got right in her face. “If you don’t take her with you, I will announce right now, to that camera, that you know your mother is conducting this entire experiment.” “Your LiveChat followers are all saying you’re an innocent angel, right?” “If they find out you were just acting, will they abandon you? And then, you will be the one mother discards as the ‘failed’ experiment.” Penelope stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. She couldn’t understand how I knew everything. “You crazy bitch! You are insane! No wonder Mom threw you away and left you here for ten years!” Penelope stomped her foot. Utterly powerless rage. 7 The day Penelope left, Auntie Evelyn was in the luxury Mercedes with her. I wanted to see her off, but I was blocked by her son. A fifteen-year-old punk, already taller than me. He glared at me, muttering slurs, saying I let his mother escape. “Then why didn’t you go see her? Who lets their own mother live in a pigpen?” His expression didn’t change. He said logically, “It’s her own fault for running. My dad said if she ran again, he’d break her legs!” He was already rotten to the core. I picked up half a brick from the corner and got into a fight with him. Dust flew. I heard Auntie Evelyn shout from the car. She said she would find a way to come back for me. She told me to never give up. I pinned her son to the ground and hammered him with my fists. Auntie Evelyn, I hope your future path is smooth. Be free. When we meet again, we will both be the people we were meant to be. 8 [LiveChat] [I mean, older sister passed the test, right? She really is a good person. Was Catherine Vance’s experiment a complete failure?] [Is this experiment even ethical? The older sister deserves a better life.] Chat streams supporting me appeared. They started attacking the scientist mother. They questioned her morality and scientific ethics. And it was also the first time I saw my biological mother’s face in my new life. A link to a Vance Labs press conference appeared in the chat. I clicked it. I saw a woman with elegant features, wearing a tailored business suit, speaking at a podium. “I am Dr. Catherine Vance, director of this study, and the biological mother of both subjects.” “Everyone, please calm down. I have seen the online opinions. However, human nature changes based on its environment. This is undeniable.” “My biological daughter’s cruel nature was already evident back in middle school.” My chest felt tight. Before I could even feel wronged, a massive screen behind her lit up. The scene was a principal’s office. A skinny, dark-skinned girl who looked malnourished was hugging her chest, glaring aggressively at the teachers. Next to her, a perfect, doll-like girl was sobbing, hiding in her mother’s embrace. “Teacher, Chloe Vance isn’t paying attention in class and keeps pulling my hair.” “Mommy, she even threw the new backpack you bought me into the school septic tank. She said I was a spoiled brat who didn’t deserve a mother!” The principal frowned. “Chloe Vance, how many times is this? I’ve already received complaints about you cheating on exams. That’s the only way you got top of the class, right?” [LiveChat] [Holy shit… Older sister isn’t a good person after all. Cheating? Bullying? She’s pure evil!] [Everyone supporting her was totally fooled!] Catherine Vance saw the noise she created and smoothly switched the video. The scene was a bright, clean classroom. Penelope was standing in front of a bullied girl, bravely facing down an aggressive male student. She looked fragile and sweet, her eyes moist. “Please don’t bully our classmate, okay?” The male student looked instantly smitten. He waved his hand, impatiently sending his friends away. He pulled out his phone. “Hey, what’s your number? Let’s connect.” Penelope looked completely taken aback, her face blushing bright red. She softly recited her phone number. The atmosphere was so sweet it looked like an idol drama. [LiveChat] [Aww, Penelope is so cute! Get away from her, you punk!] [That blush! I can’t handle it!] [School bad boy vs. innocent girl? I’m totally shipping it!] I was carefully analyzing the video, looking for the bullied girl. But there was no one. The scene focused only on Penelope. The girl who had been doused with trash and left shivering was discarded by the camera in a corner. Forgotten by everyone. The terrifying act of bullying was suddenly transformed into a romantic plot. It made me sick. My mother stopped the video there. She stated that while I had passed two of the “reality TV” tests, my inherent nature was unchangeable. She announced that I would be subjected to stricter tests. [LiveChat] [Isn’t this going too far? Sister hasn’t even finished high school yet. Let her take her entrance exams.] That one sensible comment was instantly swallowed by Penelope’s fanatical base chanting “Support the Experiment.” [LiveChat] [Don’t even try. Bullying is bullying. She was this evil in middle school, she’ll be worse in society.] The LiveChat was swinging back to Penelope. Then, a user with an icon of a hydrangea flower dropped a link. [LiveChat] [You are all being manipulated by Catherine Vance. The older sister didn’t bully anyone. The girl she supposedly bullied in high school was actually expelled for being the bully!] The user’s video was grainy, like it was a security camera footage, not professionally filmed. But it was clear. In the blurred video, I was holding my own red, swollen face in the principal’s office. I was speaking calmly. “Teacher, Sarah Jenkins threw my textbook into the boys’ bathroom urinal.” “She told me to bark like a dog. She slapped me when I refused.” The principal was looking at test papers, never even lifting his head. He just waved his hand, dismissing me. Back then, I had truly believed he would handle the situation. I didn’t know the principal was a teacher from a school near our village who had worked hard to get a job at the elite private school. He had always resented me because I was beating his own daughter, whom he spent a lot of money tutoring, as the top student in the class. When I was being severely bullied, I went to his office. He said dismissal. “Why is it always you being bullied, and not others? Every fight has two sides. Learn to self-reflect.” I realized I was completely alone. So, when Sarah Jenkins tried to stab my palm with a mechanical pencil again during class, I grabbed her by her ponytail and slammed her to the floor. After class, she threw my textbooks into the septic tank. So I grabbed the expensive custom designer backpack her mom bought her from New York and threw it into the open, filthy sewer main in front of her face. [LiveChat] [OMG. Honestly, that was amazing! Older sister is a badass!] [Principal is a POS. “Every fight has two sides”? I’ll slap him on one side and see if that fight has two sides!] Public opinion flipped again. Mother, on the screen, looked visibly panicked. I just wanted to sneer. It turns out she knew all along about the abuse I endured. She knew the suffering of those ten years. She was willing to pay people to film my suffering, but she wasn’t willing to save her own biological daughter from that hell. The very last sliver of hope I had for a mother was gone. I touched my wet eyes and looked away. I noticed in the LiveChat, more and more users with the hydrangea icon were appearing. They were screaming: [ live stream is rigged! Older sister needs to be removed from the mountains. Give her the same education as her sister!] I suddenly remembered. Auntie Evelyn loved hydrangeas. In our culture, the flower symbolizes hope and light. She had actually come back for me.

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