Category: English

  • The Fake Brother Left, So I Had to Become the CEO (And Then I Married Him)

    I never imagined the “switched at birth” trope from those trashy novels would actually happen to my family. The good news: I am my parents’ biological daughter. The bad news: My older brother is not my parents’ biological son. The worse news: Everyone in my family, except my brother, is a complete airhead. If he wasn’t holding the fort, we would have gone bankrupt years ago. When I was being tortured half to death by company affairs, my executive assistant gently reminded me. “Miss Evelyn, if Mr. Smith is no longer a member of the Davis family, couldn’t he just work for the Davis family as an employee?” I thought he made a lot of sense. That very night, I put on a sexy slip dress and ran straight to Ethan Smith’s apartment. 1 When Ethan Smith brought the real son, verified by a DNA test, back home, my mind went completely blank. No, I was just joking before! How could this actually be real? It wasn’t until the real son shouted, “Since you don’t welcome me, I’ll just leave!” that I panicked. I was so confused. What role was I supposed to play in this “switched at birth” drama? Should I play the oblivious sister who inexplicably defends the fake brother? Or should I play the edgy, rebellious sibling, pointing at the fake brother and declaring he doesn’t share our noble bloodline? It was so hard to choose. Before anyone could say another word, Liam—the real son—snatched the keys from the gardener, hopped onto the riding lawnmower, and drove it straight into an oak tree. Okay, we believe him. He’s the real son. As the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I always had a feeling my older brother, Ethan, wasn’t biologically related to my parents. The reason was simple. Our entire family consisted of absolute sweet, naive airheads. My mom was a beautiful, empty-headed trophy wife. My dad was a wealthy heir who knew nothing about business. I was a third-generation heir who inherited both the beauty and the complete lack of business acumen. But Ethan was different. He wasn’t just smart; he was incredibly capable. From my earliest memories, he comfortably sat on the throne of being ranked number one in his grade. He didn’t even have to take the SATs; he was offered a full ride to a top-tier Ivy League university. But I was a certified academic disaster. In other words, if he wasn’t my brother, I wouldn’t have even known you could get scholarships through academic decathlons. I had shared my suspicions with my parents before, but they just said I’d read too many novels and fried my brain. Only Ethan, standing nearby, had a dark, unreadable expression as he looked at me thoughtfully. But I was seriously just joking! We dragged Liam out of the tree in the front yard. Ethan Davis—oh, I should call him Ethan Smith now. He suddenly took a step back. “Mom, Dad, thank you for raising me all these years. I will return all the shares in the group to you, and I will step down from the CEO position for Evelyn. Goodbye.” Before anyone could process it, he grabbed a simple duffel bag and left the Davis estate. I was furious. We had lived together for over twenty years, and he didn’t show a single ounce of attachment. I quickly chased after him. Thinking about his usual attitude towards me, I couldn’t bear it anymore and demanded: “Did you never see me as your sister?” Ethan didn’t turn around; he only left me with the sight of his tall back. The setting sun cast a long, somewhat lonely shadow behind him. “Yes.” That single, light word slammed into my heart. Before I could even react to that “yes,” Ethan spoke again. “Evelyn Davis, I never wanted to be your brother at all.” With that, Ethan got into his car and vanished from my sight. I burst into loud sobs, crying even louder than Liam had. “Mom! He’s a bad person! He doesn’t want me anymore! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Liam froze, suddenly unsure if he should be crying too. At dinner, our family of four sat around the table, biting our nails. Because we were faced with an urgent problem that needed an immediate solution. “Who’s going to the company tomorrow?” The four of us looked at each other in dismay. Back when my dad took over the company, he almost drove it straight into bankruptcy. It wasn’t until Ethan went to college and started managing the company on the side that things started to improve. At the same time, he also founded his own tech company, Zenith Tech, and its momentum and revenue were on track to surpass the Davis Group. So, before he even graduated, my dad announced his retirement. He took my mom on a fabulous trip around the world, and then settled into a happy life of fishing and playing chess every day. I am a freelance photographer. Although I have some fame in the industry, I really don’t know how to manage a company. The three of us simultaneously turned our gaze to Liam, the real son. Liam scratched his head awkwardly and pulled out his Advanced Electrician Certification and a “Worker of the Month” medal. “Ethan’s—I mean, Ethan Smith’s—parents… one was a college professor, and the other was an award-winning high school teacher. How did you…?” I asked, genuinely confused. Liam just scratched his head. The three of us silently shut our mouths in unspoken agreement. It wasn’t that we looked down on his education or profession, but we felt incredibly sorry for the Smith parents. They must have doubted their own parenting methods more than once. After all, looking at Ethan, it was clear there was nothing wrong with their genetics. 2 In the end, choosing the best of a bad bunch, I was pushed into the CEO’s seat. After all, I was the only one who got into college based on my own (admittedly mediocre) abilities. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I definitely won’t fail this mission. I won’t do worse than that heartless jerk.” My dad squeezed my hand. “My expectations aren’t high. Just tell me right before we go bankrupt.” My mom wiped away a tear. “It’s so late, I wonder if Ethan has eaten dinner yet?” Liam scratched his head. “Am I really going to experience bankruptcy right after coming home?” I glared at him, and he went quiet. Lying in bed that night, my heart still felt empty. My parents didn’t let Liam move into Ethan’s room; they prepared a separate room for him. Even without blood ties, they still treated Ethan like their own child. Especially since the Smith parents had passed away, they were even more worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle this sudden upheaval. Actually, I never hated him; I was just a bit rebellious. Ethan, being the only normal person in the family, was very strict with me. In high school, he watched over my studies, tirelessly explaining math problems to me over and over again. He managed to drag my bottom-of-the-barrel grades up enough to pass the college entrance exams by a wide margin. When I was in college and he discovered my talent for photography, without a word, he found me the most professional equipment and the best mentors. He even personally modeled for me. Now, I’m a top-tier freelance photographer and influencer in the country. But my initial dream was really just to be a useless, idle rich kid. So, I constantly opposed him. When he was having a meeting in the home office, I would hide under his desk and pull his leg hair. When he went on blind dates with women, I would expose embarrassing stories from his childhood. I also frequently took ugly candid photos of him. Unfortunately, either my photography skills were too good, or he was just too incredibly handsome. No matter how I shot it, he looked breathtakingly good. I hated him, but I also relied on him. I never thought there would come a day when he would disappear from my world. But thinking about how decisively he left, a nameless anger flared up inside me. “Heartless jerk. Left without a second thought, not a single bit of attachment.” I took out my phone and sent an angry dog emoji to Ethan. Ethan: ? The next day, I sat anxiously in the CEO’s chair, listening to the department heads arguing back and forth. This is not a job for a human being. I slumped over the massive mahogany desk, wanting to cry but having no tears left. After a whole morning of meetings, I had absolutely no idea what they were arguing about. The documents on my desk were piled up like a small mountain. How did Ethan manage to process all this in a day and still get home in time for dinner? No wonder he ran away like he was fleeing a famine. Now, I wanted to flee too. I couldn’t help but ask my executive assistant. “Did Ethan do this much work every day too?” The assistant adjusted his glasses. “Miss Evelyn, Mr. Davis—I mean, Mr. Smith—had to handle much more than this. Today is your first day; it will only get busier from here.” I let out a helpless wail. What a disaster. “Why was Ethan able to do so much work?” “Mr. Smith has managed the company for many years, after all. He has a bit more experience than you do.” I shot up from the desk. “Right, it’s not that I can’t do it, it’s just that he has more experience.” “How about this: you can go ask Mr. Smith to tutor you. You’re so smart, you’ll definitely catch on quickly. You can also ask him to help you do some of it.” I was tempted. Shamefully tempted. I didn’t want to work this job for another minute. But I was stubborn. “I don’t need him. I can do it myself.” Saying that, I buried my head in the mountain of documents. 3 That night, I still shamefully brought the endless pile of work to Ethan’s apartment door. My heart was a bit resistant. After all, he had said he didn’t want to be my brother. “If my fingerprint doesn’t unlock the door, I’m leaving.” I muttered to myself while pressing my finger against the scanner. Click. The heavy door opened smoothly. “At least he has some conscience,” I scoffed coldly. The living room lights were on, but no one was there. The sound of running water came from the master bathroom. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat on the large bed in the master bedroom. Growing up, I never needed his permission to barge into his private space. Ethan’s voice suddenly came from the bathroom. “Evelyn, Evelyn.” His voice was muffled by the sound of the water, so I couldn’t hear it clearly. Was he calling me? The bathroom door suddenly opened from the inside. A cloud of steam billowed out first, followed by Ethan, wearing only a pair of shorts. His hair was still dripping wet, the slightly long strands falling by his cheeks, giving him a sort of decadent beauty. His lips and cheeks were flushed, contrasting with his pale skin, making him look like a vampire who had just fed—lazy and dangerous. A drop of water slid down his broad chest. His tight abs had no trace of extra fat, and his waist was narrow but powerfully defined. One look, and you knew he was explosive. So this is the legendary “V-taper.” The bottle of sparkling water slipped from my hand in shock, rolling across the floor to stop right at Ethan’s feet. “Are you crazy? Why are you walking around half-naked?” I grabbed a throw pillow to shield my face, hiding my violently blushing cheeks. He’s the crazy one! It’s the middle of summer, people can wear whatever they want in their own homes! Seeing me, Ethan froze for a moment, then grabbed a T-shirt from the edge of the bed and pulled it on. “When did you get here?” “J-Just now.” Ethan looked strange today; his eyes were fixed intently on me. It was the look of a hungry wolf spotting meat. Could he be planning to take revenge on me for all the times I annoyed him over the years? Seeing his arms, which were almost as thick as my thighs, I couldn’t help but shrink back a little. But I didn’t want to admit I was scared, so I puffed out my chest. “What are you looking at?” “First time seeing you in a blazer… very… pretty.” I felt pretty good hearing that compliment. I had spent ages picking out this suit. It perfectly accentuated my waist-to-hip ratio, making me look tall and slim. Paired with the face I inherited from my mother and a pair of rimless glasses, I looked the epitome of an elite socialite. “Of course. Look who you’re talking to—the most beautiful girl in the city’s high society.” Ethan smiled, took my hand, led me to the living room, and sat me on the sofa. He brought out fruit and snacks. “Eat something first, I’m going to cook.” Munching on an apple while watching a handsome man cook. A feast for the eyes. Suddenly, I remembered I hadn’t done what I came here for. “Ethan, teach me, please.” I piled the stack of documents in front of him. Ethan glanced at me sideways, saying nothing. “Bro, big bro, brother, please.” I fell back into my habit of acting cute. In the past, as long as I called him “brother,” he would immediately surrender and grant my every request. Ethan took the stack of documents and placed them on the corner of the kitchen island. “Eat first.” Ethan made my favorite: minced pork with eggplant, tomato and egg stir-fry, and a large pot of corn and pork rib soup. I ate two huge bowls of rice, my stomach bulging comfortably. Ethan slowly put on his blue-light glasses. He picked up a document with one hand and patted the seat next to him with the other. “Starting today, you come here every night, and I’ll tutor you.” I shot up from my seat. “Why should I?” Ethan didn’t even look at me, his voice flat. “I’ll handle these for you today, but you have to follow along and learn.” I pouted, pathetically but obediently sitting back down. “Okay, brother. Whatever you say.” The tutoring session lasted until past ten o’clock. I slumped weakly on the table, waving my hand at Ethan. “I can’t do this anymore. My brain is fried.” Ethan checked his watch. “It’s too late. Mom and Dad are already asleep. Just sleep here tonight.” I thought about it, realized it made sense, and agreed. 4 “Ethan, you have a 2,000-square-foot luxury apartment, and only one bed?” Is this a joke? “I usually live alone and rarely come here. There are no other occupants, so I didn’t set up the other rooms.” My driver had already gone home, I’d had a little wine with dinner, and it was raining outside. Looking at the massive king-size bed, I figured two people could easily fit. I quickly jumped onto the side near the window, sat under the covers, and shook my fist at him. “If you dare cross the line, you’re dead meat.” Ethan lay down silently. With his back to me, he only took up a tiny sliver of space on the edge of the bed. Ethan was entirely too quiet tonight, which made me feel a bit weird. “What’s wrong with you?” After a long silence, just when I thought he had fallen asleep, his voice suddenly came from the darkness. “Did he ever say what his adoptive parents were like?” Was he talking about his biological parents? “No.” The bedroom fell silent again. Waking up one day to find out you’re the fake son, and your biological parents have already passed away without you even meeting them. Suddenly realizing you’re completely alone in the world. He must feel incredibly insecure. No wonder he seemed so quiet this time, becoming increasingly gloomy and taciturn. I hugged him from behind. His shoulders were so broad that even with my arms wide open, I couldn’t fully wrap around them. “Brother, you still have me. I’ll stay with you.” “Then is Evelyn willing to stay with her brother forever?” This guy always kept his thoughts hidden since we were kids, never sharing anything with the family. It seems he was just pretending to be strong before; otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me stay to keep him company. How could a kind, passionate, generous, and beautiful girl like me refuse the request of a broken, handsome man? “Of course I am.” Ethan suddenly turned around and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. “Evelyn, let brother hold you for a bit.” His embrace was warm and very comfortable. Drowsiness quickly overtook me. Half-asleep, I mumbled groggily. “Brother, your phone is poking me.” Ethan suddenly sat up. “You sleep first. I’m going to take a shower.” Then he bolted into the bathroom. ? Didn’t he already shower? And so began my bizarre cohabitation with Ethan. During the day, we went to our respective offices. At night, he tutored me and handled the things I couldn’t manage. Then we slept in the same bed. Wait, doesn’t he have an assistant? We always started the night with a clear boundary between us on the bed. But by the next morning, I would inevitably roll into Ethan’s arms. He would helplessly massage his temples. “You’re a terrible sleeper.” Wait, who am I supposed to complain to? Through Ethan’s tutoring, my progress was at a snail’s pace. Some things really do require natural talent. 5 Finally, there was something I was good at. My executive assistant told me there was a business gala tonight. Finally, my time to shine. I picked out a stunning evening gown and got my hair and makeup done perfectly. Tonight, I swore to be the most dazzling woman in the room. The confidence drained by work these past few days had returned. That evening, I made a glamorous entrance into the banquet hall and was quickly surrounded. People trying to network, make friends, ask for my number, seek partnerships. I gracefully handled wave after wave of people, then quietly hid behind the dessert table. To squeeze myself into this mermaid dress, I hadn’t eaten lunch, and I was dizzy with hunger. The macarons at this hotel are the best. I hid in a corner, stuffing my face, when I suddenly saw a few wealthy heirs chatting nearby. “I saw the fake son from the Davis family is here too.” The fake son of the Davis family… isn’t that Ethan? I perked up my ears to eavesdrop. “I can’t believe that ‘switched at birth’ nonsense actually happened.” “I’ve seen the real son of the Davis family. He looks exactly like Mrs. Davis when she was young.” “No wonder old Mr. Davis was raising someone else’s kid all these years.” “You can’t really say that. Ethan’s—I mean, Ethan Smith’s—abilities are undeniable.” At that moment, a disdainful voice cut in, dripping with schadenfreude. “He’s just a sparrow that fell into a phoenix’s nest. A sparrow is a sparrow; flying onto a high branch doesn’t make it a phoenix. He used to walk around with a straight face, acting so arrogant and high-and-mighty. Well, look at him now. Let’s see how arrogant he can be.” “Mark, don’t forget, Ethan helped your family out before. And Ethan single-handedly carried the Davis Group, while you haven’t even been allowed to join your own family’s company yet.” The man named Mark sounded even more contemptuous. “He just got lucky being taken in by the Davis family. He’s not even fit to shine my shoes. If my dad had given me the chance, if I were the heir to the Davis family, I definitely would have done better than him.” I picked up the ice bucket next to me and dumped it straight onto Mark’s head. “Evelyn Davis, are you crazy?!” “Did you eat laxatives for dinner? You’re spewing crap the moment you open your mouth. It’s just because the goddess you chased for years liked Ethan, and Ethan rejected her, so you’re holding a grudge. So what? She got rejected, but she still doesn’t want you! You want to be the heir to the Davis family? Don’t you own a mirror, or at least a puddle to look at your reflection? You’re not even as tall as a green onion, and your face is as wide as a pancake. Even if my parents took home the wrong child, they wouldn’t have picked an ugly thing like you. You’ve lived too many ugly days, now you’re just having delusions of grandeur.” Mark was red in the face from my scolding and raised his hand to hit me. Unable to dodge in time, I fell into a dry, warm embrace. A familiar, cool scent made me inexplicably feel safe. A wail of pain came from behind me. Ethan held me with one arm and gripped Mark’s wrist with the other. With a slight application of pressure, Mark howled in pain. “Looks like Zenith Tech needs to re-evaluate its partnership with the Taylor family.” Ethan let go of Mark and took off his suit jacket, draping it over my shoulders. When I dumped the water on Mark, some of it splashed onto me as well. “Are you okay?” Ethan looked at me nervously. I shook my head. “My dress is wet.” “Brother will take you to change.” His tone was gentle, like coaxing a child. We went to the Davis family’s permanent suite in the hotel, and I changed into a different gown. “You were too impulsive today. The other guy is a grown man. If he got really angry, you wouldn’t have been a match for him.” I pouted. “He was talking badly about you.” Ethan paused, then sighed. “Even if you were defending me, you can’t do that next time.” “I’ll do it again next time.” Ethan choked, raising his hand to pat the top of my head. I swatted his hand away and shook my fist at him. “I worked so hard to get this volume in my hair. If you flatten it, I’ll fight you.” Remembering how he faced off against Mark just now, exuding a fierce aura. I felt like a little wildcat baring its teeth. Ethan smiled. He looked incredibly handsome when he smiled, like the spring breeze cracking the ice on a frozen lake. 6 Back at the gala, Mark’s younger sister, Chloe Taylor, toasted me with a glass of wine. Chloe and I were on reasonably good terms. Thinking that she and Mark had different mothers, and that the Davis and Taylor families shouldn’t let things get too tense, I drank it. Not long after, I began to feel restless and my body grew hot. Having spent years in high-society circles, I immediately guessed what had happened to me. I stumbled toward the stairs. As soon as I got back to my room, I’d be safe. But I ran into the Taylor siblings in the hallway. Chloe stood in a corner, speaking cautiously. “Big brother, I did everything you asked. Next month, can you please stop cutting my and my mom’s allowance?” Mark looked at me with a sleazy grin. “Fine, since you were so obedient.” I looked at the two siblings in disbelief. “Chloe, you’re an illegitimate daughter. When you were bullied in the Taylor family, I helped you. And this is how you repay me?” Chloe gritted her teeth, her eyes red. “Who needed your help? It was just your condescending charity, to satisfy your own vanity. You think everyone wants to look at your seductive, slutty face. If I had your background and looks, I wouldn’t need your help at all.” I leaned against the wall to keep my balance. Mark approached me with an evil smirk, reaching out to touch my face. “Gotta say, with a face and body like this, who knows who would have gotten lucky in the future. You humiliated me in public today, so pay me back tonight.” “Aren’t you afraid the Davis family will come after the Taylors?” “Once everyone knows we slept together, the Davis family will have no choice but to marry you to me to save face. It’s a very profitable deal.” He grabbed me and started dragging me. I felt weak all over and couldn’t break free. In my daze, I saw the window in the hallway. I desperately wrenched my hand free, rushed over, and used my high heel to smash the glass. Someone would come up soon. I took the opportunity to run back to my room and locked the door. Mark banged on the door a couple of times and then fled. When Ethan arrived, he found me soaking in a bathtub full of cold water, still wearing my gown. “Evelyn, what happened?” The cool scent on Ethan brought me a brief moment of clarity. “Brother, it was Mark and Chloe. They drugged me.” I managed to squeeze out the sentence before my consciousness descended into chaos again. There felt like a fire in my lower abdomen, burning my internal organs. I desperately grabbed onto anything I could reach. The person in front of me felt cool and smelled nice. “Brother, you smell so good.” I pressed myself against him desperately, trying to absorb a trace of coolness. “Evelyn, don’t do this.” “Brother, please help me, I feel so awful.” I clung to his neck, my lips clumsily biting and kissing his collarbone. The room was filled with the erratic breathing of two people, the air feeling thin and sticky. I heard a sigh by my ear, as if accepting fate. Then the room spun, and I was tossed onto the soft, massive bed. “Evelyn, Evelyn.” Ethan murmured my name. Husky, pained, yearning. Ethan was usually so aloof, like the wind through a bamboo forest, or the moon in the high clouds. He rarely showed strong emotions. It was also the first time I had felt him so consumed by desire. I remembered that day outside the bathroom, hearing him call my name. It was the same—reverent, focused, restrained. I wanted to ask him why he was calling my name that day. But I soon couldn’t form a complete sentence. 7 When I woke up the next day, I felt like I had been run over by a truck. Sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains. I squinted at the unfamiliar ceiling, my mind a complete blank. Then, the memories of last night rushed back like a tidal wave. Mark, the drugs, the bathtub, Ethan— And that line, “I never wanted to be your brother at all.” I sat up abruptly, the blanket slipping off me. The chill made me look down. The marks on my collarbone and shoulders were as clear as a silent declaration. “Fuck.” I grabbed a pillow and threw it at the air, but the temperature on my face rose uncontrollably. The bathroom door opened, and Ethan walked out wearing a bathrobe. His hair was still wet, holding a towel. He saw I was awake and paused. “How do you feel?” His voice was very calm, as if nothing had happened last night. I glared at him, opening my mouth, but not a single word came out. What could I say? Thank you, brother, for helping me detox? Or ask him why he took advantage of my vulnerability? But I knew clearly in my heart that I was the one who threw myself at him last night. I was the one holding onto him, refusing to let go. I was the one who said, “Brother, help me.” I was the one— “Evelyn Davis, stop biting your lip.” Ethan walked over, his long fingers pinching my chin, forcing me to unclench my teeth. “The skin is already broken.” His thumb gently brushed across my lower lip, the movement overly tender. My brain exploded with a buzz. “D-Don’t touch me!” I slapped his hand away, wrapped the blanket around myself, and retreated, shrinking against the headboard. Ethan withdrew his hand, looking down at me, his deep eyes churning with emotions I couldn’t read. “About last night—” “Nothing happened last night!” I shouted before he could finish, my voice so shrill even I found it grating. “I was just drunk, and I don’t remember anything! You’re not allowed to remember either, you hear me!” Ethan looked at me in silence. That kind of silence caused more panic than any interrogation. “Evelyn Davis.” He finally spoke, his voice very soft. “Are you blaming me, or are you afraid of me?” Afraid of you? What I’m afraid of is myself. I’m afraid that even though I should have pushed you away, I didn’t want to at all. I’m afraid that for all these years, I kept telling myself you were my brother, but last night I realized I never truly saw you as a brother. “What am I blaming you for?” I forced a smile, but my voice trembled uncontrollably. “We’re brother and sister. We were before, and we will be in the future. Last night was just an accident. What else can we do but forget it?” “Enough.” Ethan suddenly leaned over, hands resting on either side of me, trapping me between the headboard and his chest. The scent of his cold cologne mixed with body wash filled my nose, and my brain completely shut down. “Evelyn Davis, listen well.” His voice was deep, every word landing hard on my heart. “I do not regret what happened last night.” My eyes widened. “But if it makes you uncomfortable or feel violated, then it’s my fault. You can blame me, you can curse at me, you can even beat me up. But the one thing you cannot say is ‘nothing happened’.” His gaze burned into me, like it was trying to scorch a hole right through me. “From the moment I knew I wasn’t a biological child of the Davis family, I couldn’t control myself anymore.” My brain completely stalled. Ethan, however, suddenly stood up straight, took two steps back, and returned to his cold, restrained demeanor. “Breakfast is in the living room. I’ll take you to the office after you eat.” He turned and walked out of the bedroom, his back as straight as a tree that would never bend. I sat on the bed, clutching the blanket, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would leap out of my throat. He had known for a long time that he wasn’t a child of the Davis family. That year I secretly wore my mom’s high heels and fell down the stairs, he was the one who caught me. He sprained his wrist and couldn’t write for three months, yet he still insisted on tutoring me every day. That day he looked at me and said something very strange: “Evelyn Davis, can you please grow up a little slower?” I thought at the time he found me annoying. Now— I buried my face in the blanket and let out a muffled groan. It’s over. It’s all over.

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  • The Anchor’s Flight: Seven Years in the Sterling Shadow

    I was with him for seven years. Now, he’s getting married. On our last night, he was like a starved animal, tracing every inch of my body as if trying to memorize the map of me. When I woke up, he slipped a five-carat diamond onto my finger, his voice a low, gravelly hum: “Every night, same as always. You stay here with me.” My body went rigid. Zane Sterling arched a brow, letting out a sharp, mocking breath. “You actually believed me? You really can’t let go, can you?” “My fiancée is the jealous type. I don’t want her finding out about our… history.” “I’ve set you up on a date tonight. Treat it like a business meeting. Got it?” He didn’t know that the moment I walked out that door, I was boarding a sailboat headed for New York. Leaving the harbor. Never coming back. 1 The moment the words left Zane’s mouth, it felt like a physical blow to the face. My skin burned with a phantom sting. “What’s with that look? Did you actually fall for me?” He leaned back against the headboard, the picture of effortless, cruel elegance. I looked up, catching the faint, angry red scratches I’d left on his lean, muscular back during the night. From eighteen to twenty-four. I had been in this cycle with Zane Sterling for exactly seven years. In the beginning, he’d send a car to pick me up from my dorm at the university every other night. Eventually, outside of classes, I lived here. A glass-walled mansion perched on the cliffs of Queen Anne, overlooking the entire Seattle skyline and the Puget Sound. I adopted a ginger cat named Tater. Zane was always buried in work, but he’d still find the patience to spend an hour helping me pick out the perfect cat tree. He was the man who, when I was sick, would stay up to make me a bowl of handmade chicken soup. He acted like a real partner. I forced my gaze back to the diamond ring. Five carats of cold, hard compensation. Zane leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, his voice a dark rasp. “Isn’t this the ring you always wanted? Consider it a parting gift.” “From now on, we’re strictly professional. Employer and employee.” “Sienna Montgomery is the nation’s sweetheart. You’re Seattle’s top news anchor. Don’t let resentment turn you into a tabloid headline. Don’t leak her secrets.” “I protect what’s mine, Mila.” It was a warning. A threat wrapped in silk. The bitterness burned the back of my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but my stomach suddenly lurched. I bolted for the bathroom. 2 “Mila.” Zane followed me in. His eyes darkened, his gaze sweeping over my midsection like a blade. “The Sterling family doesn’t do bastards.” “You’ve been with me long enough to know what happens when someone tries to trap me with a pregnancy.” My breath hitched. I pulled my hand away from my stomach and looked up, forcing a mask of calm. “I didn’t sleep. It’s just a stomach bug.” He frowned slightly, then turned and walked out. I let out a shaky breath. Yesterday, I felt off. I went to the clinic. The doctor told me I was eight weeks along. The math tracked back to two months ago—Zane’s birthday. He’d told me he didn’t want to use protection that night. I was so exhausted I didn’t even argue. I forgot the morning-after pill. I had planned to tell him today. Now, I realize how much of a mistake that would have been. Like he said, the Sterlings don’t allow illegitimate children. I’d seen their methods six years ago. Zane’s older brother had a child with a model in London. The moment the baby was born, both mother and child vanished from the face of the earth. Someone had leaked the crime scene photos to my email back then. I only looked once. I had nightmares for a month. Composing myself, I reached into my bag and pulled out the ultrasound photo. I traced the tiny black dot with my thumb, then crumpled it into a ball and dropped it into the trash. 3 When I stepped out of the bathroom, Zane was already dressed in a bespoke suit, scanning the Wall Street Journal by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He saw me with my suitcase. He put the paper down, his eyes drifting to Tater lounging on the sofa. “Mila, there’s no rush to leave. You can keep the villa. You and the cat.” “No. I prefer a clean break,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be out of here in forty-eight hours.” Zane didn’t argue. He headed downstairs. By the time I followed, he had already prepared breakfast. There was a small cup of herbal tea steaming on the table. “Drink it. The weather’s turning cold. You need to be careful.” I froze. He actually believed my lie about the stomach bug. To keep the ruse up, I took a few sips. It was bitter. He reached into a glass jar, pulled out a lemon drop, unwrapped it, and gestured for me to open my mouth. I stared at the candy, my eyes stinging. I hate bitter things. The lemon drops were always my reward for taking medicine. But now… The sweetness didn’t reach my tongue. “It’s sour and bitter. It’s actually pretty gross,” I said with a hollow laugh. Zane’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly. But only for a second. He picked up the jar and tossed it into the trash can. “Fine. Good riddance.” “Sienna hates sugar. The smell makes her nauseous.” I looked at the jar in the trash. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. The jar was a royal antique he’d bid on for me at an auction in Paris when I was twenty. The legend said that for every candy eaten, a piece of happiness would be gained. If the jar was empty… the misery would double. As I headed for the door, Zane stopped me. He sent a location pin to my phone via Signal. “Caleb Brooks. The heir to the Liberty Group. He’s a sailor, spends most of his time at sea.” “You remember him? On your last birthday, he flew back specifically to give you that handcrafted sailboat model.” “That’s the address for your date tonight. The paparazzi will be there.” I understood. The Sterling family had already announced the merger-marriage with Sienna. I’d been with him for seven years. Now, he needed to scrub me from his records. The best way to do that was to link me to another man. To marry me off. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” I turned to leave. Zane grabbed my wrist, his expression unreadable. “Mila, seven years is a long time. I won’t leave you empty-handed. Tell me what you want.” I looked at the dark mole just beneath his right eye and smiled softly. “I want you to marry me. Can I have that?” Zane froze. His brow furrowed. Before he could speak, I swallowed the lump of glass in my throat and forced a grin. “I’m kidding.” “I have to go to the station. I’m up for the Journalist of the Year award today. I can’t be late.” 4 At 7:50 AM, my Uber arrived at the Sterling Media Tower. When I reached the 18th floor—the broadcast division—I saw Sienna Montgomery. She was wearing a bold red dress, laughing as she walked out of the Director’s office. Before I could process it, the Director’s assistant stood up and made an announcement to the floor. “Attention everyone. Effective immediately, Mila Thorne is being reassigned to the digital archives department.” “The prime-time anchor slot will be taken over by Sienna Montgomery. As you all know, she is an Oscar-winning actress.” Reassigned. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. A cold shiver climbed my spine. The assistant gave me a pained look and added: “This was Zane’s personal directive. The Journalist of the Year award is also being presented to Ms. Montgomery.” Zane. Zane Sterling was the owner of Sterling Media, the largest news conglomerate in the Pacific Northwest. I took a deep breath, fighting back the tears. I set the tray of coffees I’d brought onto a table and smiled. “Coffees on me. Let’s call it a celebration for my new role.” Usually, my colleagues would swarm me. Today, no one moved. Sienna stepped down from the platform, her red lips curving into a smirk. “Hi everyone! I’m so excited to be here. I really wanted to experience a real corporate environment for my next role.” “I brought gourmet pastries and latte’s for everyone. Hope we can be great friends!” Sienna started handing out her drinks. The room immediately bustled with fake laughter. There was no room on the table, so she picked up my thirty-two coffees and tossed them into the bin. She turned to me, offering a single cupcake. Her eyes were full of triumph. “You must be Mila. So sorry about taking your desk and your trophy.” “I heard sugar helps with the mood. Do you want one? You look like you need it.” My throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t say a word. 5 I left the broadcast floor and used the private keycard Zane had given me to take his personal elevator to the 112th floor. By the time I hit floor 50, the rain had turned into a downpour. The city was drowning in gray. I suddenly remembered the first time I saw Zane. I was at my lowest. Seven years ago, right after high school, I’d moved from the Midwest to Seattle for college. I was desperate for tuition money and got tricked into working at a high-end “gentleman’s club.” I was being forced to drink by a group of rich frat boys. I was crying, fighting them, until Zane Sterling walked in. His suit was sharp, his expression icy. He had a cigarette between his fingers. His voice was a low growl: “Move.” They let me go instantly. I didn’t know he was the most powerful man in the city; I just knew I wanted to live. I followed him like a shadow. But when we reached the exit, a hit squad opened fire. I was paralyzed with fear. Zane grabbed my waist and threw me into his car. During the chase, a tire blew, and we were cornered in an alley. He took a bullet in the shoulder to shield me. In the alley, he slumped against a wall and looked at me. “Go.” “We go together or we die together,” I blurted out. He actually laughed at that. “You think you’re qualified to die with me?” I ran to a nearby pharmacy, bought bandages and disinfectant, and ran back. He had passed out. I patched him up and stayed until the Sterling security arrived. I thought I’d never see him again. But a day later, he called me. “Mila Thorne. Do you want to be with me?” “I live a clean life.” “Stay with me, and in this city, you won’t have to follow anyone’s rules but mine.” I thought about it for one night and said yes. Back then, he was twenty-two, freshly returned from an Ivy League school, ruthless in business. I didn’t know he was just as ruthless in bed. When he wasn’t busy, he’d take me to galleries around the world. He’d teach me how to find the “hook” in a news story. He taught me how to ride horses and play golf. When I was stressed about finals, he’d tutor me himself. The security and love he gave me were things I had never known. My parents had divorced when I was a kid. I was shunted off to an aunt’s house. Living as a guest in someone else’s home is a slow poison. I chose Seattle because it was the furthest point on the map. 6 The elevator opened at floor 112, Zane’s office. He was focused on a file, but he noticed me immediately. We locked eyes. My vision blurred. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. “Why did you give my anchor slot to Sienna?” He didn’t blink. His voice was level. “Give? Mila, you’re mistaken. I own the station. I decide who sits in that chair. I didn’t ‘give’ her anything. It’s mine to distribute.” My shoulders shook. “And the award? I nearly died in Gaza six months ago for those stories. She hasn’t even written a headline. Why her?” Six months ago, I was a war correspondent. I survived ten near-death encounters. Those reports sent Sterling Media’s stock to a ten-year high. Zane stood up and walked toward me, towering over me. “How did you graduate from Stanford, Mila? You should know better than to question my decisions.” “I could fire you for this.” I felt a wave of nausea. My voice rose. “There are a thousand roles in this company. Why mine? I worked my way up from an intern to that chair. I bled for it!” He let out a cold scoff. “Because Sienna is my fiancée. She’s the woman I’m spending my life with.” “You? You’re just a canary I keep in a cage.” “I can throw you away whenever I want. You have no standing to compete with her.” “Be grateful, Mila.” “Three years ago, you applied for the staff position. Your test scores were number one, but you didn’t have the background to clear the interview. I’m the one who opened that door for you.” I froze. Zane reached out, wiping a tear from my cheek, his voice softening. “Sienna just took a role as a news anchor in a movie. She needs the experience. I know you’re the best. When she’s done filming, I’ll give the desk back to you.” That was when I realized it. Zane Sterling, the billionaire shark, never saw me as a person. Every success I’d achieved through my own hard work was credited to his “generosity” in his eyes. I had never asked him for a favor. I’d never used his name to pull strings. But in the end, he used his power to strip me of everything I’d built. I was left with nothing but scraps. At eighteen, I didn’t understand the glass ceiling of social class. Between the lover and the beloved, there is no such thing as an equal trade. Today, I finally woke up. A canary is just a canary. Not a partner. Not a lover. Just a pet. I don’t want the prime-time slot anymore. I walked out of his office and booked a flight to New York for 7 PM. Then, I called a friend at a hospital and scheduled an appointment for next week. 7 I went back to the 18th floor and handed in my resignation. The Director sighed. “Mila, if you leave now, you lose your severance. Can’t you just wait?” I shook my head. “No.” No one at the station knew my real relationship with Zane. They wouldn’t tell him I quit. “Mila, you’re the best we have. When Ms. Montgomery is done, the seat is yours. I’ll make sure of it.” He patted my shoulder, genuinely wanting me to stay. I smiled. “I’m going home.” “Home?” “Back to the East Coast.” He looked surprised. “The top anchor slot in Seattle… people kill for that. You’re really walking away?” “I’m a journalist,” I said softly. “I have the skills. I can find a stage anywhere.” I took a car back to the Queen Anne mansion. Everything there was chosen by me. But as I looked around, I realized the only things that truly belonged to me were my books. Everything else was bought by Zane. Two walk-in closets full of designer jewelry. Too much to carry. I didn’t want it anyway. The only thing I packed was a small wooden music box he’d handcrafted for me in Italy when I was nineteen. As the sun set, I was rolling my suitcase toward the door. Sienna Montgomery showed up with two bodyguards. She blocked my path, smirking. “Mila, you might have slept with him for seven years, but you’re just a toy he used to kill time.” “Did you know he chased me for six months in college? He used to buy me breakfast every morning. I told him I liked skiing, and he ditched his finals just to fly me to Whistler.” I checked the time for my flight. “Ms. Montgomery…” Before I could finish, she slapped me. “You’re a nobody, Mila. You think you can compete with me?” Tater suddenly bolted out of his bed and hissed at Sienna, swiping at her. “Filthy stray!” Sienna’s face twisted. She kicked Tater with everything she had. The cat flew three feet, hit the wall, and slumped to the floor. He spat up a bit of blood. He was shaking, making a low, pained whimper. I couldn’t breathe. I raised my hand to strike Sienna, but someone caught my wrist from behind. The grip was iron. I turned. Zane’s cold, dark eyes met mine. “Zane! Help Tater!” My voice was a frantic, broken sob. Zane looked at the cat on the floor and signaled his guard. “Take him to the emergency vet.” 8 Sienna’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Zane, that cat tried to bite me. I was just scared. I didn’t mean to kick him so hard.” “You’re not mad, are you?” Zane narrowed his eyes, wiping a tear from her face. “Why would I be mad? If a cat is aggressive, it needs to be disciplined.” “But don’t do it yourself next time. You’ll hurt your foot, and then I’ll be the one in pain.” Sienna pouted. “If you really cared, you’d have Mila kicked out of Seattle.” “She called me here to provoke me. She’s just a Midwest girl. Who does she think she is, trying to steal you?” “A media scandal about you keeping a mistress for seven years would ruin the merger.” “I know what I’m doing.” Zane’s face was a mask of ice. He looked at his guard. “Take Ms. Montgomery home.” “No!” I tried to stop Sienna, but Zane yanked me into his chest. His eyes were predatory. “Mila, didn’t I warn you? Stay away from Sienna.” I dug my nails into my palms. I wanted to scream, but the sight of the blood on the floor made my stomach churn. Zane looked at my suitcase. “It’s late. Where are you going?” Sienna’s stunt had made me miss my flight. Fine. I’ll go on that date. I smirked. “Zane, are you getting early-onset dementia? You set me up with Caleb Brooks for 8 PM.” His expression soured. He let out a dark laugh. “You’re taking a suitcase to a date? You think Caleb is actually going to want you?” “Mila, after seven years with me, who else would even touch you?” I stood my ground and slapped him with everything I had. Zane’s eyes flared. He dragged me up to the master bedroom. He was like a wild animal, throwing me onto the bed and tearing at my dress. I fought him, sobbing in pain. “Mila, why can’t you just submit?” His eyes were bloodshot. He looked desperate. “If you stay, I’ll let you go on the date. I just won’t let you marry him.” “I’ll give you everything. Money, affection… just not the title.” His hands were rough. He was trying to kiss me. His phone rang. It was Sienna. He hesitated, then picked up. “Zane, I’m so scared,” Sienna sobbed through the speaker. “The image of that cat… it’s giving me a panic attack.” “I can’t breathe. Please, come over.” Zane’s eyes remained locked on mine. “Mila. Beg me.” “Beg me to stay, and I will.” I shoved him off. “Zane Sterling, you disgust me. Get the hell out of my sight.” He smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, Mila.” “You say you’re going to see Caleb, but you packed the music box I gave you six years ago. You’re still obsessed with me.” I went to retort, but his gaze turned icy. “One last time: Sienna is the woman I love.” “Know your place as a canary.” “Otherwise, I will make it impossible for you to exist in this city. I brought you up from the mud, and I can send you back down.” The tears were burning my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be at the date.” Zane gritted his teeth. “Good.” He slammed the door and left. 9 The storm lashed against the windows. I curled up under the blankets, shivering. I remembered Zane’s mother, Elena Sterling, visiting me once. She said: “Mila, Zane is the new head of the family. He’s only good to you because you’re useful. If you ever become a liability, he will destroy you himself.” “Don’t be smart. The ‘pregnancy trap’ doesn’t work on the Sterlings.” Back then, I was naive. I thought love could fix anything. But clearly, a pet in a cage is not the same as a bride at the altar. He would always choose the Montgomery merger over me. Always. At 7:30 PM, my phone buzzed. A FaceTime call from Caleb Brooks. I answered. Caleb was on the deck of a boat, wearing a black raincoat. The sail behind him was whipping in the wind. He gave me a roguish grin. “Mila, I’m sorry. The storm is too bad to dock. I’m stuck at sea tonight.” “Can we push the date to tomorrow?” Caleb was an old classmate. He didn’t care about the elite circles. While others were gambling and partying, he was out on the ocean, free. He knew I loved boats. Last year, he’d built me that model. But I wasn’t going to be here tomorrow. “Caleb, I…” “Signal’s dropping. Talk soon!” The call cut out. I went onto the Delta app and booked a new ticket for 10 AM tomorrow. As dawn broke, a video of Zane at Sienna’s apartment went viral. The curtains were open. The paparazzi caught them kissing on the balcony. The last sliver of hope in my heart burned to ash. As I packed, a notification popped up in the station’s group chat: [Weather update: Record low temperatures. Chance of snow in Seattle tonight.] I stopped. I still remembered. When I was nineteen. I asked Zane, “Zane, will we ever get married?” He didn’t answer. Later, I stopped asking. I just asked, “Zane, does it ever snow in Seattle?” “When it snows here, I’ll marry you. Deal?” He’d nodded. Some promises made at twenty are meant to be anchors for a lifetime. I had spent years praying for snow.

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  • The Heiress Plot Twist: My Rival Doesn’t Want the Guy, She Wants Me

    For years, I played the ultimate mean girl. I even took the innocent, poor girl’s cheap white sundress, ripped it to shreds, and threw a glamorous, oversized princess gown at her face. She cried, just as I expected. But right as I was about to mock her, she suddenly choked back her sobs and said: “Thank you. I’ve never worn anything this beautiful before.” I froze, guiltily hiding the scissors I was holding up my sleeve. 01 The girl standing in front of me, Lily Thorne, was still sniffling. She had these big, doe-like eyes and a tiny face. When she cried, she looked incredibly fragile and pitiful. If she cried like this in front of Ashton Reed on a normal day, I would have sworn she was trying to seduce him and marched right over to humiliate her. But today, she was crying because of me. Suddenly, I felt entirely out of my depth. I shoved the scissors further up my sleeve. For some reason, I felt a twinge of guilt. I cleared my throat, put my hands on my hips, and barked fiercely, “Hmph. It’s just a dress. It costs less than my daily allowance. You country bumpkin, hurry up and change! Are you trying to make Ashton wait for you?” Lily paused as she wiped her tears. She looked at me, confused. “Why would he wait for me?” Because he’s definitely going to ask you to the gala tonight, obviously! I didn’t say it out loud. I just grumbled it in my head. Even though I knew perfectly well that Ashton liked Lily, I refused to admit it, and I definitely wasn’t going to say it to her face. “Don’t worry,” Lily said softly. “Even though I’m poor, I know how things work. I promise I won’t get this dress dirty. And when I make money in the future, I’ll definitely buy a beautiful dress for you, too.” I blinked. Looking up, I realized Lily had already slipped into the princess gown I’d handed her. The dress was incredibly heavy, with a wide, plunging square neckline. Her frail, skinny frame absolutely could not fill it out. That was my little trick. Ashton loved how she looked in simple white dresses—pitiful, moving, like a pure little lily. So, I specifically forced her into a glamorous gown that completely washed her out. Sure enough, just as I predicted, Lily looked like a little kid playing dress-up in adult clothes. It looked ridiculously awkward. But looking into Lily’s teary, grateful eyes as she happily twirled in front of the mirror… I didn’t feel nearly as triumphant as I thought I would. 02 The gala started shortly after. I was about to walk away, but Lily trailed right behind me. Watching her frail silhouette, I sneered internally. I knew it. She’s up to no good. She was definitely planning to walk out with me so she could run to Ashton and tattle on me! I turned around and snapped, “Why are you following me?” The eager anticipation on Lily’s face instantly deflated. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve never been to an event like this before. I thought if I walked with you, I’d feel a little braver. But if it bothers you, I won’t follow you.” The anger bubbling in my chest instantly vanished. It was then I noticed that because the dress was entirely the wrong size, the waist was gaping. If she leaned forward even a little, she’d be completely exposed. I took a step forward, backing her into a corner. “I’m sorry, Serena. Hit me if you want, but please don’t be mad,” she whispered. She bowed her head, exposing her slender, porcelain neck. This is exactly how she must suck up to Ashton to make him happy! I thought bitterly. Annoyed, I reached up, pulled a diamond hair clip from my own hair, and pinned the excess fabric at her waist, cinching it tight. Her waist was absurdly tiny. Unlike me—if I ate even a little too much, Ashton would tease me and say I was turning into a pig. Thinking of Ashton made my mood sink. “Alright, just follow me,” I muttered. “You country bumpkin. Don’t say anything stupid out there.” Lily nodded furiously, like an obedient little bunny. Her eyes were sparkling. “I knew you were the best and kindest, Serena.” My lips twitched into an involuntary smile. I quickly forced it down. “Hmph. Kiss-up.” 03 The moment Lily and I made our entrance, a swarm of wealthy socialites surrounded me, greeting me with fake warmth. They acted like Lily was completely invisible, subtly shouldering her out of our circle. I felt a surge of smugness. At school, Lily was vastly more popular than me. Wherever she went, people smiled and said hello. Even Ashton, from the moment he first met her, stubbornly forced her into our exclusive friend group. But here, as the heiress to Newport’s most elite family, I was the undisputed princess everyone revolved around. I crossed my arms, making small talk with the other heiresses while shooting sideways glances at Lily. But instead of looking crushed, she had already beelined for the dessert table, happily loading a plate with cake. The socialites followed my gaze and covered their mouths, giggling. “Is that the charity-case girl who follows Ashton everywhere? You can totally tell she’s from the trailer park. Zero class.” “Seriously, she doesn’t have a single thing on you, Serena. I don’t know what Ashton sees in her.” “Right? Look at the dress she’s wearing. The fit is terrible. Is it a cheap knockoff rental?” Even though they were taking my side, I felt a weird prickle of discomfort. I hated Lily, sure, but whenever we were together, she never said a bad word about anyone behind their backs. I opened my mouth to explain, but an icy voice cut through the chatter. “Serena. Do you really need to lead the charge in trashing Lily behind her back? She’s never done a single thing to you.” It was Ashton. I barely heard his accusation. My eyes were glued to the star pendant resting around his neck. It was the Valentine’s Day gift I had given him. He specifically wore it today… Does that mean the person he wants to invite to the dance is me? My mind was racing, my eyes fixed on the necklace. I completely missed how cold Ashton’s glare had become. “Serena, are you even listening to me? I know you don’t like Lily, but you need to reel it in. Stop targeting her just because of your ridiculous jealousy.” This time, I heard him. Loud and clear. The bustling ballroom suddenly fell dead silent because of Ashton’s outburst. Everyone’s eyes turned to me. Curiosity. Pity. Mockery. The stares drowned me like a tidal wave. Oddly enough, my first reaction wasn’t heartbreak or sadness. It was pure confusion. “Why are you wearing the necklace I gave you for Valentine’s Day?” I asked. “Oh, you mean this?” Ashton’s face was utterly devoid of emotion. He reached up, yanked the necklace off his neck, and threw it onto the marble floor. “I didn’t even realize it was from you. I just grabbed it from a drawer. Don’t tell me you’re targeting Lily because you mistakenly thought I liked you?” “Pfft.” A girl I had always feuded with let out a loud snort of laughter. It felt like two hard slaps across my face. She waved her hand dismissively. “Sorry, I couldn’t hold it in. Please, continue.” I stared down at the star necklace on the floor, completely silent. My heart felt exactly like that necklace—tossed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. I didn’t even notice Lily walking up beside me. When Ashton saw her, his face instantly softened. “Lily, don’t be scared. I’ve got your back. I’ll take you out to the dance floor later. You don’t have to put up with Serena’s bullying.” Smack— Before he could finish his sentence, Lily slapped him hard across the face. “Serena hasn’t said a single bad word about me,” Lily enunciated every word with cold fury. “You just made up your mind about her before you even got here. What gives you the right to trash her feelings like that?” My blurred vision slowly cleared. The chaotic whispers of the crowd faded away. Suddenly, a soft, warm hand reached out to me. I snapped my head up. Lily’s tear-filled doe eyes curved into a sweet crescent shape. “Don’t be sad, Serena. Let’s go dance together.” 04 Lily was a terrible dancer. I had to slow my steps to an absolute crawl, guiding her through every single motion. There were other girls dancing together on the floor, so we didn’t stand out too much. Thinking about the slap she had just given Ashton, I felt like I was in a trance. Why did Lily do that? Didn’t she like him? Just as the thought crossed my mind, my palm felt a faint tickle, like a feather brushing against it. I snapped out of it to see Lily blinking up at me. She leaned close to my ear, her breath hot against my skin. “He doesn’t deserve you, Serena.” My stomach dropped. What was this? A declaration of war from my romantic rival? I knew it, I thought. This little two-faced manipulator is up to something. 05 Riding in the back of my chauffeur-driven car on the way home, my mind was still spinning. My toes throbbed a little from where Lily had stepped on them. My hand still felt the lingering chill of her touch. Lily’s hands were always freezing. She definitely wasn’t eating properly or taking care of herself. I should have the butler buy her some iron supplements, I thought absentmindedly. And those heels she was wearing… cheap, terrible quality, completely the wrong size. Realizing what I was thinking, I aggressively rubbed my cheeks. Wake up, Serena! Stop letting this girl manipulate you! Did you forget she basically declared war on you tonight? But… was she really a manipulator? The streetlights blurred into streaks outside the window. I thought about every time Ashton and I got into an argument. Lily was never even in the room. But because of her mere existence, Ashton constantly used her as a weapon to tear me down. “My dear princess, why do you constantly have this sour look on your face? Can’t you learn a thing or two from Lily? She’s sweet, she’s quiet. Why are you always making a scene? No one can stand you but me.” “You’re impossibly spoiled, Serena. If you were even half as understanding as Lily, I wouldn’t have ditched you on New Year’s Eve to go back to her hometown with her. You need to look in the mirror instead of causing trouble for Lily.” “Do you really think our friends actually like you, Serena? They just tolerate you out of respect for me. Stop being so full of yourself. They’ve told me a million times—compared to a spoiled diva like you, someone like Lily is their actual dream girl.” The truth was, Lily and I had never actually had a single real conflict. It was Ashton. He used her to put me down, over and over again, until my resentment for Lily grew. I hated how understanding she was. How fragile. How cute and kind. I was jealous that she effortlessly stole everyone’s attention—including the boy I liked. Every time, I was painted as the evil, stupid villain. But… But I couldn’t even bring myself to truly hate her. 06 The next day at school, the second I walked into the classroom, my classmates were huddled together, gossiping furiously. I assumed they were talking about the drama with Ashton, so I kept my face cold and walked straight to my desk. But then I saw Lily in the center of the crowd, and my heart skipped a beat. Pinned to her sleeve was a black mourning ribbon. My stomach plummeted. Did someone in her family die? When I had looked into her background before, I remembered she lived in a rundown neighborhood on the Southside. Her mom was gone, her dad was a violent alcoholic, and they barely scraped by. Aside from him, she had absolutely no family in the city. Did that mean she was an orphan now? I sat down, my fingers digging into my textbook. Hiding behind the propped-up book, I sneakily peeked at Lily. She wore a gentle smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes, patiently answering the questions thrown at her. Snatches of her voice floated over to me. “Yeah… I don’t think I can stay at this school anymore… I’m moving back to my rural hometown… the public school there waives tuition…” Lily was leaving? That meant Ashton could never compare us again! We could go back to being childhood sweethearts! I should have been thrilled. So why did I feel a lump in my throat and a heavy weight crushing my chest? 07 After morning classes, I packed my bag, instinctively getting ready to meet Ashton on the second floor like I always did. Then I remembered the nightmare at the gala. I stopped in my tracks and walked straight to the cafeteria instead. I wasn’t someone without pride. Quite the opposite—I was incredibly arrogant. I almost never bowed my head or admitted I was wrong. But whatever dignity and pride I had was constantly ground into dust when it came to Ashton. I could never forget what he did for me when we were kids. My parents were always working, leaving me to cry alone in a massive, empty mansion. Ashton would climb the fence, sneak into my house, and do whatever it took to make me smile. A lot of people faded from my childhood memories, but the image of Ashton holding a stuffed bunny, promising me I would always be his only sister, was crystal clear. So even though I knew he had changed, letting go of him was excruciating. He was my one exception. I had just sat down with my lunch when Ashton walked into the cafeteria, with Lily right beside him. He was talking to her, but her expression was totally blank. He scanned the room, spotted me, and his eyes lit up. He marched over and knocked on my table. “Still throwing a tantrum over yesterday, Princess? I admit I was in the wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at you without getting the facts. Lily already chewed me out for it. Look, I even found the necklace you gave me. Can we drop it now?” Ashton had these striking, deeply set eyes. When he looked down at you, it always felt like he was staring into your soul. He pulled out the star pendant. He had meticulously wiped off all the dust; it looked brand new. “I looked for it for hours last night. I practically scrubbed the floor with my knees. Come on, you can’t still be mad at me.” His eyes looked slightly more sincere than usual. In the past, I would have melted instantly, giddy and overwhelmed. But today, I felt absolutely nothing. “Okay. I get it.” Ashton was clearly thrown off by my reaction. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lily smoothly slid into the seat right next to me with her lunch tray. Every other seat around me was full. She sat on my right without even glancing to see where Ashton would sit. Without a word, she picked up the single piece of grilled shrimp from her plain salad and dropped it onto my plate. “Eat up, Serena.” “Huh? Oh.” Feeling awkward, I stabbed the shrimp and put it in my mouth, glancing at her sad, meatless lunch. I hesitated for a second before transferring the chicken drumstick from my plate to hers. Meeting her sparkling eyes, I lied through my teeth: “I’m on a diet. I don’t eat fried food.” Lily nodded obediently. “Thank you, Serena!” She looked exactly like a golden retriever puppy. The top of her head looked soft. I really wanted to pat it. I awkwardly shifted my gaze away. Ashton’s shocked voice broke the silence. “Wow, Lily wasn’t kidding. You guys actually made up. Alright then, Serena, do me a favor and talk some sense into her. I want her to move into my house so I can take care of her as my little sister, but she absolutely refuses.” Clatter— My fork dropped to the floor. I stared at him, stunned. “You want Lily to move into your house? Like, legally adopt her?” Ashton coughed awkwardly. “Well, not legally. She’d just live with us. It’s not like my family can’t afford another mouth to feed.” A tidal wave of bitter jealousy hit me. I sneered coldly. “You don’t want a little sister. You want a live-in girlfriend.” Ashton’s ears turned bright red. His face hardened. “Serena, we are in the middle of the cafeteria! Why do you have to be so vile?” I was vile? Oh, so I struck a nerve! I let out a harsh laugh. I was about to fire back when Lily’s soft voice chimed in: “But I’d rather live at Serena’s house. What should I do? Serena, will you take me in?” 08 I was completely dumbfounded. Since when were Lily and I that close? Why was she asking something like that so casually? I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Ashton frowned deeply. “Absolutely not. Serena has a horrible temper and a massive princess complex. If you move in with her, she’ll treat you like a maid.” Even with the massive rose-colored glasses I used to wear for Ashton, his words made me laugh out of sheer disbelief. “Excuse me? A princess complex? Go ahead, Ashton, tell me exactly when I’ve ever treated you like a servant!” Ashton threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, my bad. I spoke without considering your fragile feelings again. My fault. I shouldn’t have called you a diva. But Lily hasn’t done anything to you, so could you please just not ruin her life?” He was supposed to be apologizing, but every word felt like a knife twisting in my gut. Before I could fully process it, Lily suddenly hugged my arm. Goosebumps instantly erupted up my right side. I tried to pull away, but met her innocent puppy-dog eyes. She whispered: “Serena, Ashton is acting like a toxic gaslighter. He PUA’s you constantly. I am absolutely not going to his house. Take me in, please? I’ll do your laundry and cook for you and take perfect care of you, okay?” Who needs you to do laundry? It’s not like my house doesn’t have maids… The rejection was right on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. My chest felt tight, filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. Maybe I was scared that if she went to Ashton’s, they’d really end up together. Maybe I genuinely felt uneasy letting a girl her age live in a guy’s house. Or maybe the thought of her moving back to her rural hometown left a strange, hollow feeling in my chest. I looked away, tilting my chin up arrogantly. “Fine. I’ll allow you to stay with me.” 09 It wasn’t until I brought Lily home from school that reality hit me. What am I doing? I literally just brought this two-faced manipulator into my house! But the words had already left my mouth, and the word ‘regret’ did not exist in Serena Sterling’s dictionary. I got out of the car and power-walked awkwardly toward the front door. After a few steps, I couldn’t help but look back in worry. Lily was following right behind me. Meeting my gaze, it was like she had just been granted permission. She trotted up lightly, like a cat, and naturally linked her arm through mine. I tried to pull away. Lily whispered, “I’ve never been to a place this huge before. I’m so scared of getting lost and losing you, Serena.” My body stiffened. I grumbled: “Country bumpkin.” But I didn’t pull my arm away. I let her hold onto me. My arm was practically numb as a plank of wood by the time our butler appeared. He looked at us in pleasant surprise. “Miss Sterling, you brought a friend home? Where will she be staying?” Friend? Who was friends with Lily?! Feeling horribly awkward, I opened my mouth to correct him, but Lily tugged my sleeve and said softly: “Serena, I’m scared of the dark at night. Can I stay somewhere close to you?” Her hands were so pale and delicate, and her voice was as soft as a purring kitten. Heat rushed to my face. I yanked my arm back violently. “Stay wherever you want. The house is huge, we have plenty of rooms.” It wasn’t until the butler led Lily away to pick a room that my brain caught up with me, and I was furious with myself. I was going to stick her in the guest room on the first floor, as far away from me as possible! Why the hell did I just agree to let her stay near me?! I gritted my teeth. Lily was a master manipulator. She played guys, and apparently, she played girls too.

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  • The Golden Boy Returns: My Double Life as a Stand-In

    When my boyfriend’s “Golden Boy” returned, I, his mere stand-in, faced immediate unemployment. They decided to crash my world to show off: “Baby, I’m here to take you home~” Ethan’s face darkened instantly: “This isn’t a place for you.” His friends started jeering: “Your little canary isn’t very obedient, is he? Provoking the real deal right to his face.” Amidst the mocking laughter, the Golden Boy sitting in the deepest part of the booth suddenly stood up, walked over, pulled me into his arms, and spat pure venom: “Overconfident much?” “His ‘baby’ is right here. Who the hell are you replying to?” 1. Once I realized I was just a stand-in, I immediately adjusted my attitude. Whatever the Golden Boy did, I did too. Oliver bought a new car? I bought one too! Oliver bought a new watch? I bought one too! Oliver ordered male escorts? I ordered them too! …Wait a minute, those handsome guys in the booth over there are Oliver’s friends. No wonder. I waved my hand expressionlessly, telling the row of male escorts in front of me to get lost. They were all so ugly; if I ate a single grape from the fruit platter they offered, I’d have to call the cops. Looking at the elegant and aristocratic man not far away, I chugged my drink while my mental defenses crumbled. Waaaaah— He’s taller than me, richer than me, and more handsome than me. No wonder he’s the Golden Boy. I can’t compete. I really can’t compete. Clutching my bottle, I stood up, my eyes blurry from the alcohol. Huh? Where did Oliver go? Why can’t I see him? I stumbled around trying to find him. Just as I turned a corner, a strong force suddenly yanked me, and I was pinned against the wall with my arms behind my back. Oliver looked down, a playful smirk on his lips: “You’ve been following me for a while now. Got a crush on me?” So close. His semi-long hair brushed against my face, carrying a clean, cool scent. Staring blankly at his meticulously sculpted face, I muttered instinctively: “You’re so beautiful…” A low, pleased chuckle escaped Oliver’s throat. “Sweet talker.” Without warning, he gripped my chin and kissed me. The music outside was deafening, the lights psychedelic. My brain felt deprived of oxygen. Wasn’t I learning from the Golden Boy? What is the Golden Boy doing right now? Oh. The Golden Boy is sleeping with me. So, I struggled and flipped us over so I was on top. I wanted to sleep with him too. Oliver paused for a second, then smoothly wrapped his arms around my waist to help me balance. He buried his face in my neck, took a deep breath, and chuckled hoarsely: “Baby, you’re really good at this.” 2. I woke up in a hotel room the next day. I was completely disoriented. Wait—Ethan is my boyfriend, and Oliver is Ethan’s Golden Boy. How did I end up rolling in the sheets with my rival?! What kind of mess is this!! And why is this beautiful, stunning man the top?! I quietly grabbed my clothes from the floor, trying to sneak away on trembling legs, but I was snatched back into his arms. Oliver leaned lazily against the headboard, looking thoroughly satisfied. He rubbed my waist gently: “Morning, boyfriend.” What boyfriend? How did I suddenly become his boyfriend?! My waist went weak, and my bravado vanished: “Wh-what boyfriend…” Seeing my eyelashes fluttering wildly and my stuttering, Oliver narrowed his eyes and pinched my cheek in dissatisfaction: “What? You took my first time, and now you want to dine and dash?” “Who was it that praised my looks last night, hugging me and kissing me non-stop?” “Who was it that didn’t care if I was going too fast or too slow, and got mad and left marks all over me?” “And who was it that said they were almost done but then wanted more? Insisted on being on top, got tired after a few thrusts, and started whining and scratching me?” He casually pulled open his bathrobe to show off the scratch marks. Yep, from his collarbone to his chest, it looked alarming. It looked like a wild night. I was so mortified I wanted to die. I reached out to cover his mouth: “But I have a boyfriend…” Oliver suddenly leaned in, trapping me in his arms. His eyes turned dangerous, and his tone was filled with disbelief. “Are you saying,” he enunciated each word, “that I am the side piece?” “You made me the side piece?” “A guy like me—6’6″, eight-pack abs, Ivy League grad, net worth in the hundreds of millions, highly service-oriented—with specs like these, you make me the side piece?” He pinched my chin, a competitive fire burning in his eyes: “Come on, tell me. What kind of angelic being is this ‘main guy’ of yours?” 3. I was almost scared out of my wits by Oliver’s “side piece” comment. Golden Boy, you are so out of character! Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Ollie? Are you awake? I brought you dim sum from The Imperial, your favorite from before—” It was a deliberately gentle voice, tinged with cautious eagerness to please. —It was actually Ethan! Ollie. Ollie. So, every time he got drunk and called out passionately for “Ollie,” it was never me. I mean, I already knew, but hearing Ethan gently calling out for someone else still made my heart ache. What “aloof boyfriend”? He wasn’t naturally cold and distant. It’s just that his gentleness was never meant for me. My blood ran cold, and a wave of panic washed over me, like I had been caught cheating. I scrambled frantically to roll out of bed. Oliver, however, pushed me firmly back under the covers, gave me a reassuring kiss, and mouthed silently: “Don’t panic.” The knocking outside grew more urgent. “Ollie? Are you in there? Ollie?” Oliver casually pulled his bathrobe tighter, carrying the ambiguous marks I had left on him, and leisurely went to answer the door. He opened it just a crack, leaned against the frame, and spoke with the languidness of someone just waking up, heavily laced with undisguised displeasure: “Ethan, which hotel I stay in is my private business. Showing up like this shows a real lack of boundaries.” “Boundaries?” Ethan sounded like he’d heard a joke, his voice rising a few octaves. “We’ve known each other for over a decade. Since when did we care about boundaries?” “You finally came back, I just missed you so much!” He sounded so self-righteous. I remembered once accidentally opening his phone’s photo album and being coldly scolded for half an hour. He had warned me, “People need boundaries.” Damn it, such blatant double standards. While they were talking, the door opened a bit wider, and Ethan’s expression instantly froze. His gaze was nailed to the exposed V of Oliver’s bathrobe. Ethan’s face went from eager to please, to shock, to an ugly, disbelieving shade of pale. He could vaguely see the blanket bunched up into a small mound. There was definitely someone in there! His throat tightened, and his voice trembled: “Ollie, you… on your body… who exactly is in your room?!” Ethan tried to push his way in to get a better look. But Oliver blocked him firmly. Instead of panicking, Oliver glanced back at the trembling lump under the covers. When he looked back at Ethan, a boastful smirk played on his lips, his tone airy: “Oh, him?” “My future partner.” “Tsk, he’s feisty. Scratches hard.” To add insult to injury, Oliver took the bag from Ethan’s hand. “Perfect timing, my baby is hungry. Thanks for the breakfast.” The door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the world finally fell into a dead silence. The breathing under the covers finally resumed its shaky rhythm. 4. Oliver unpacked the breakfast, picked up a shrimp dumpling with chopsticks, and held it to my mouth: “Try it. The shrimp dumplings from The Imperial really are quite good.” I opened my mouth mechanically and chewed. This was the first time I had ever eaten breakfast delivered by my boyfriend, and it was in this bizarre manner. I really had to thank my rival for this. My heart felt like it had been soaking in lemon water—sour and astringent, almost bursting out of my chest. … “Full?” “Mhm.” Oliver stood to the side with his arms crossed, sharply observing my state: “Why are you so scared?” “Are you afraid of him?” “I am not,” I mumbled, burying my face in my knees. Afraid of him? Maybe just a little bit. Mostly, it was just chilling disappointment. But for a split second earlier, I actually wanted Oliver to let him in. A twisted sense of satisfaction flared up inside me. The unattainable flower you secretly loved for over a decade? I picked it. Ethan, you must be dying of jealousy, right? “If you’re not, then why do you look like a bullied little wife?” Oliver pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. He examined me from left to right, suddenly realizing something. “I’ve seen you before.” “At State U’s graduation ceremony… State U… You know Ethan?” Oliver’s mind worked fast, and his eyes suddenly grew sharp: “No wonder you were following me.” “…I heard Ethan found a stand-in for me. Looks like it’s true?” My eyes dimmed: “So you all knew… I’m just a pathetic stand-in.” “I know Ethan was planning to break up with me.” My voice was a bit dry: “At first, I wanted to see the gap between you and me…” “But after seeing you, I felt Ethan was aiming too high.” “I… if I learn to be a bit more like you, maybe Ethan won’t want to break up.” “After all, we’ve been together for four years. It’s still a bit sad…” “You actually want to win him back?!” Oliver exploded like a lit firecracker: “Is this it?! This is your ‘main guy’?! Well, color me shocked!” “Is a cheap bastard who looks for stand-ins worth saving?” He laughed out of pure anger and pinned me to the mattress. A warm hand gently covered my lower abdomen, his voice dangerously husky: “Is he better than me?” “…What?” “Has he ever gotten this deep inside you?” His palm pressed down slightly, an undeniable assertion of dominance. My cheeks burned instantly, my toes curling in shame: “I… I don’t know.” Then, giving up on any pretense, I added: “He’s still saving his virginity for you.” The air instantly froze. Oliver’s expression looked like he had swallowed a fly. He squeezed two words through his teeth: “Disgusting.” As coincidence would have it, my phone rang abruptly. The name flashing on the screen was exactly Ethan’s. I instinctively went to hang up, but Oliver beat me to it and answered the call. “Leo, where are you? Come out and meet me.” On the other end of the line, Ethan’s voice carried unconcealed annoyance. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t make a sound. Because Oliver leaned down at that exact moment and bit my earlobe almost vengefully, his hot breath pouring into my ear: “Baby.” “Ravish me.” “And then, go get your revenge.” 5. On the other end of the phone, Ethan’s voice was clearly displeased, “Leo, is someone with you?” I bit my lower lip hard, not daring to make a sound. Oliver’s fingertips, as if carrying an electric current, slowly traced circles on my waist. He smiled silently, like a seductive male fox spirit, gently grinding his lips against mine. “Speak,” Ethan’s tone had already taken on his usual commanding edge. “I’m in a very bad mood right now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” I spoke almost in a whisper: “I’m… busy.” “Busy with what?” Ethan sneered, “Busy figuring out how to be a better stand-in?” I jolted, “You…” “You bought so many things that are exactly the same as Ollie’s recently. I’m not blind.” His voice carried undisguised mockery. “Since you already know, I’ll just lay it all out.” “You are nothing compared to Ollie. The only reason you had the luck to be with me for a few years is because your eyes look a bit like his.” “But your clumsy imitations only make people think—” “You’re a cheap knockoff.” “Leo, consider this a warning. I’m going to officially start pursuing Ollie soon. You’d better know your place.” “Don’t go embarrassing yourself in front of Ollie using my boyfriend’s name, to avoid causing Ollie any unnecessary misunderstandings about me.” “Watch yourself.” Ethan hung up the phone decisively. The dial tone echoed in my ear. I stood frozen, feeling the awkwardness and helplessness of being stripped bare in front of Oliver. “A cheap knockoff?” Oliver tossed the phone aside, his disdainful voice ringing in my ear. He cupped my cheeks and looked at me, “Listen, all beautiful people look somewhat alike.” “Only an ugly person like him would like such bizarre imitations.” A spot in my heart suddenly softened, and that tiny bit of sadness evaporated. I could even joke back at him: “Oh, so because you look like me, you don’t need to feel inferior.” Oliver reached out and wiped away the tears that had unknowingly slipped down my face. His movements were gentle, but his tone was resolute: “Leo.” “You are exceptional. You shouldn’t waste tears on a guy like that.” I blinked. “If you still have time to be sad over those words, it means I haven’t done enough. It means you still have the energy to think about someone else…” I couldn’t help but block his rambling mouth. … I don’t know how we ended up in front of the mirror. I turned my head away in shame. Oliver’s strong arm tightly gripped my waist, his other hand pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. “Look closely.” “Who is holding you right now.” “And who is the one hiding behind a phone call, slandering you.” I was forced to look up, physiological tears streaming down my face. Oliver bit my earlobe, his breathing erratic, but his tone softened. “Baby, from now on, tears should only fall in situations like this…” “Whose baby looks this pretty when they cry?” “Some people just have no taste. You’re much prettier than I am.” Oliver kissed the side of my neck continuously, as if mesmerized, yet he wanted to pin me firmly in place. “Leo, look at yourself now.” “Tell me, the pathetic little thing in the mirror, and the little brat who dared to order a whole row of male escorts at the bar yesterday, which one is the real you?” I stared blankly at the flushed person in the mirror. “I… I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” His tone carried a hint of punishment. With every question, the arm around my waist tightened a bit more. “Then I’ll help you figure it out.” “Baby, forget Ethan. Forget me.” “Do you prefer being a passenger or driving?” I trembled, trying to get my brain working, my fingernails digging into his arm. My voice was broken. “I don’t like… driving…” “Do you prefer digital watches or mechanical watches?” “Mechanical…” “Do you like quiet or noise?” “Qui…et… slow down…” “Good boy.” He gave me a rewarding kiss, landing softly between my brows. “Never lose yourself.” “The way to get back at him is to become an even better version of yourself than before.” Oliver took my hand and placed it on his cheek, letting me feel the most genuine heat radiating from his skin. “You can treat me as your trophy…” “Baby, tell me, sleeping with the Golden Boy Ethan has secretly loved for years.” “Does it feel good?” My cheeks burned. Thinking about how furious Ethan’s face might be, I felt a mix of shame and exhilaration, and instinctively nodded. “Louder.” “…It feels good.” “Excellent,” Oliver smirked in satisfaction, pulling me even closer, kissing away the tears at the corners of my eyes. “Remember this feeling.” “You didn’t imitate this. You won this.” “Leo, he doesn’t want you, that’s his loss. He doesn’t get to define your worth.” “And I chose you…” He paused, burying his face deep into my neck, “Simply because I have great taste.” “I found this unique, precious treasure.” … 6. Damn, I think I’m tangled up with a male fox spirit. Since that day, Oliver stopped going home, stopped hanging out with his friends, abandoned his parents… He shamelessly camped out at my house, demanding a title. “Hmph, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad will go to the mountain. You won’t move in with me, so I can only come crash with you.” Oliver placed his electric toothbrush next to mine, looked at it closely, and nodded in satisfaction. I leaned against the doorframe, looking up at him, unable to resist saying: “You were the one who told me, don’t let men get what they want too easily, and especially don’t let them push their luck.” Oliver paused, feeling like he had just shot himself in the foot. After a moment of frustration, he turned to face my serious gaze, putting on an expression like he was overwhelmed by my cuteness, even speaking with the proud tone of a doting father: “You’re right.” “When dating, you should be a bit more assertive and take the initiative.” In the end, he couldn’t resist giving me a kiss. “I’ll keep pursuing you until you’re satisfied.” I mumbled, “But you’re already pushing your luck way too much.” I pushed his face away. “Mr. Suitor, please mind your behavior.” As soon as the words left my mouth, this guy planted a loud “mwah” on my cheek with lightning speed. “If you won’t give me a title, at least give me some perks.” I just watched him smugly organize his little suitcase. “How strange, you only brought this little stuff?” Oliver said self-righteously: “I was afraid bringing too much at once would make my intentions too obvious.” “I need to take it slow.” Me: … Are your intentions not obvious right now? You’re practically forcing my hand. Oliver was an interesting guy. The first time we interacted was at the hotel, and it was like lightning striking the ground. We did everything we should have, shouldn’t have, and tried all the tricks. Now he wants to start acting like we’re in a pure, innocent romance. Isn’t that backward? But I found that I didn’t dislike this feeling. Oliver often acted unreliable and goofy on the surface, but as long as he was there, the little bit of gloom in my heart caused by Ethan would slowly dissipate. Oliver forcefully barged into my world, yet quietly and gradually permeated every corner of my life. Watching him hang his silk pajamas in my closet. My heart felt like it was soaking in warm water, soft and tender. So I suppressed my smile and deliberately kept a straight face: “We’ll see how you perform.” “Okay!” His eyes suddenly lit up. The fox turned into a puppy. But the next second, Oliver deliberately rummaged through his suitcase, putting on a troubled expression, looking at me with puppy dog eyes, “But baby…” “I forgot to bring underwear.” “Can you… come buy some with me?” Me again: … Heh. Your true colors are finally showing. You cunning male fox spirit, you couldn’t hide your tail after all! 7. In the end, I was half-coaxed, half-carried by Oliver to the mall. He was as excited as a mouse in a rice bin, holding up one black and one white pair of underwear, asking me: “Baby, how are these two?” I tugged on his sleeve, telling him to keep his voice down: “Is your face made of titanium? The sales ladies are laughing at you.” Oliver raised an eyebrow: “So what? We’re being open and honest.” “Only people like Ethan who buy size S need to sneak around afraid of being laughed at.” Why do you still have to throw shade at a time like this?! I facepalmed helplessly: “You’ve seen Ethan’s?” Oliver snorted, “Saw it in the bathroom back in college…” “Stop, stop, stop!” Blushing furiously, I rushed to cover Oliver’s mouth, pointing randomly, “Just this one, buy it and let’s go home.” Oliver looked in the direction I pointed, the lightbulbs in his eyes clicking on: “Baby, you’re so spicy. I didn’t know you liked this kind.” I finally saw clearly how special the style I had randomly pointed at was. My eyes widened slowly: “No, I…” Oliver gave me an “I understand” look, “Bowknot style, ready to eat… I’m looking forward to it.” Great, now I can’t explain myself. Oliver didn’t make me choose; he excitedly grabbed all the styles we looked at and went to pay. Just stepping out of the underwear store, Oliver pulled me into another store. “Since we’re here, let’s buy some matching outfits.” …So this was his real goal. On one hand, pretending to be generous and saying he wasn’t in a hurry for a title, while on the other, secretly plotting all these little schemes. When I was imitating Oliver before, I figured out his preferences. He usually likes low-key styles that emphasize cut and fabric. I pointed to a cashmere overcoat, imagining how he would look in it—definitely very classy. “Pick what you like,” Oliver insisted. What I like? My gaze unconsciously drifted to another wall, where several well-designed bomber jackets were hanging. I whispered, “I like this one.” Oliver nodded in agreement: “Very cool.” Without hesitation, he picked up two and paid quickly, “We’ll take these.” “You didn’t even try them on…” I was just about to complain when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone I absolutely did not want to see— Ethan! He was just coming off the mall escalator, walking in our direction! “Let’s go, let’s go!” I quickly ducked my head, grabbed Oliver’s arm, and tried to pull him away. Seeing this, Oliver didn’t move; instead, he let out a low chuckle. Under my terrified gaze, he suddenly bent down and effortlessly scooped me up into a bridal carry. He smoothly threw the newly purchased jacket over my head, blocking my vision. My world went dark. I froze in his arms, not daring to move an inch. “Don’t be afraid.” He comforted me softly. I had fantasized countless times in my head that if I ever saw Ethan again, I would definitely show him that he shouldn’t underestimate me. But the reality was, my mind went completely blank! Too disappointing. I silently despised myself internally. Through the coat, Ethan’s voice grew closer: “Ollie! The sales rep at Brand X said you were here, so I rushed right over! Where have you been these past few days?” I muttered softly: “Blacklisting Brand X…” Oliver chuckled softly at me, not looking Ethan in the eye. “Shopping with my boyfriend. He got tired.” Ethan’s smile froze, his attention finally landing on me. “Ollie, he is…” “Ollie, stop joking around,” Ethan’s voice deepened. “I asked the friends you went to the bar with that day. You didn’t have a boyfriend then at all.” Ethan narrowed his eyes: “But this build looks a bit familiar…” I nervously gripped the hem of Oliver’s shirt. …Am I going to be discovered? “It’s the guy from the hotel, isn’t it!” Ethan looked at Oliver with sudden realization: “This guy is just a cheap male escort, isn’t he? It’s only been a few days, and he’s already clinging to you to buy him things at the mall?” As soon as he finished speaking, I felt the air pressure around us drop. “Ethan,” Oliver’s voice was calm but laced with coldness. “Are you investigating me? And insulting my boyfriend?” Ethan was still talking to himself: “Ollie, I don’t mind. You’re definitely just playing around… I just wanted to say, this weekend a few of us organized a welcome home party for you, to officially welcome you back. You have to come.” He even turned and glared viciously through the coat at me: “Don’t make me find out which club you work at!” Oliver had no intention of arguing further. He held me securely and turned to leave. “I’ll go to the welcome party, but right now I need to take my baby home.” Due to the momentum of Oliver turning, I “accidentally” kicked my leg up, coincidentally leaving a shoe print on Ethan’s coat. Ethan’s eyes widened. He looked at the dusty mark and kept pestering: “Ollie! People from places like that don’t deserve you!” 8. We didn’t stop until we reached the emergency stairwell. I threw off the coat, furious, and threw a flurry of weak punches against his chest: “Ahhhhh! That was so annoying! It was too sudden! I didn’t perform well!” “I just didn’t have my lines ready!” “I wasn’t afraid of that guy Ethan!” “I should have looked at him aloof and cold, and then said faintly, ‘Mr. Ethan, long time no see.’” Oliver leaned against the wall, smiling at me with an encouraging look: “It’s not too late to think of something now.” “This weekend, want to go crash the party?” My eyes lit up, but then I hesitated: “Can… can I?” I pointed at myself uncertainly. “Sigh.” Oliver sighed exaggeratedly, intentionally lowering his eyelashes in mock sadness: “It’s really annoying being pestered by a clingy leech like him.” “If only my boyfriend could declare his territory and make him give up completely…” “I’ll go!! We’re crashing Ethan’s party!” I was instantly pumped up again! Full of fighting spirit! I was going to make a grand entrance! Like a fabulous makeover! I am the returning king! On the way back, I excitedly started planning: “I’m going to wear the coolest outfit and be the best-looking guy there!” “And I’m going to call you ‘baby’ in front of everyone!” Oliver held my hand, his beautiful eyes full of seriousness: “Yeah, and let him know that he didn’t just lose his so-called ‘Golden Boy’.” “The most important thing is you, the one he once had but didn’t know how to cherish.” 9. The day of the welcome party. My phone kept pinging with messages from Oliver. “Ahhhhh, it’s so boring, baby.” “Everyone keeps looking at me and Ethan with these ambiguous looks.” “I think I know what Ethan’s planning to do next.” “It’s torture!! Crying face.jpg” “Baby, are you ready? Can you come get me now?” I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusted my hair, and replied, “Don’t rush.” Oliver: “Oh.” “Pitiful fingers.jpg” In the banquet hall, Oliver sat expressionless, holding his phone, exuding an aura of “do not approach.” “Ollie, why are you always on your phone? You’re the guest of honor today.” Several people exchanged glances for a while, and finally, one unlucky guy was pushed forward: “Oliver, Ethan seems to have something to say to you.” Oliver didn’t even bother lifting an eyelid, his voice cold, “What is it?” A flash of awkwardness crossed his friend’s face. He subconsciously glanced at Ethan, who was holding a wine glass trying to look deep, let out two dry laughs, and attempted to ease the tension: “Nothing… just thinking you’ve changed a lot since you got back. This fashion style is also… pretty cool.” Only then did Oliver deign to look up. He adjusted his collar and spoke nonchalantly: “Oh, this.” “My boyfriend picked it out.” “He has great taste. He said I look ten times more handsome in this than in those stuffy, old-fashioned tailored suits.” “Boy… boyfriend?” The friends all swiveled their heads to look at Ethan, the atmosphere instantly freezing. “Ethan… did you know?” Ethan’s composed facade stiffened. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to maintain his composure. “Ollie, we’ve known each other for over a decade. You know that deep down, for all these years, I’ve always—” “Stop, stop, stop!” Oliver looked like his ears were being soiled. “Know what?” “That you’ve been shamelessly pestering me all these years?” “Have I ever willingly hung out with you?” “Our interactions were strictly limited to unavoidable family obligations.” “You decided to pull this stunt knowing full well I have a boyfriend.” “What’s the meaning of this? Are you trying to interfere in someone else’s relationship? Or are you trying to be the other man?” “I hate homewreckers the most.” Ethan’s face changed colors, but he couldn’t lash out in front of his Golden Boy: “Ollie, our families are of equal standing, and we understand each other. I’m the only one who can love you and protect you.” “Don’t get tricked by some random nobody.” “Heh, you understand me?” Oliver’s attack power remained undiminished as he calmly dropped a bombshell, “Let me tell you a little fun fact.” “I’m a top.” “Someone like you, I wouldn’t want even if you offered yourself on a silver platter.”

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  • I’m Over Us, Babe

    I’m Over Us, Babe. Liam’s broad chest pressed against my back as he held me. My body stiffened for a few seconds. “Let’s break up, Chloe.” I couldn’t quite believe it, turning my head to look at him. “Right now?” Liam let go of me, lying flat on the large bed, raising his sharp, striking eyebrows. “Just leave tomorrow. I don’t have time to drop you off right now.” “Okay. Let’s just sleep for now.” In the dark, Liam’s breathing grew steady beside me. I let out a breath of relief, feeling instantly lighter. This unrealistic relationship was finally over. 1 Morning was almost here. I shifted a little and was pulled right back into that hot embrace, a large hand resting on my waist. “What are your plans now?” I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll figure it out when I get home…” … When I left, half of Liam’s face was still buried in the snow-white pillow. “You guys really broke up?” My best friend, Sarah, rushed over to my place, her face full of disbelief. She pulled out her phone, and I knew exactly what she was about to do. I grabbed her hand before she could call Liam to interrogate him. Besides being my best friend, Sarah was also Liam’s cousin. “It’s over for real. Absolutely certain. You don’t need to double-check.” Sarah frowned. “Who initiated it? It must have been you. You think he’s too young for you, too immature? Come on, he’s running a massive company now, he’s not immature at all…” I shrugged, feeling totally relaxed. “Wrong. He brought it up. Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Sarah looked stunned, clearly refusing to buy it. “What? How could he possibly be the one to break it off?” “Why is that so impossible? You know how it is. In relationships, men and women are rarely on the same wavelength. Women tend to fall deeper as time goes on, but men get bored. Once the honeymoon phase fades, they lose interest.” “…” Sarah was completely bewildered. “How are you so okay with this?” “Because deep down, I always knew we wouldn’t work out. First, my family background is decent, but his is just on another level of wealthy. Second, a three-year age gap is real. I’ve never fully adjusted to the dynamic. To be honest, if he hadn’t said it, I probably would have.” Sarah twitched as if she’d been electrocuted. “Right, I forgot. Your brain is aggressively rational. I was worrying for nothing.” “Still, you’re my best friend. That little punk Liam… if he dares to dump you, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” Sarah immediately dialed his number. “What’s up?” a deep voice answered on the other end. I grabbed a banana nearby, peeled it, and took a bite. “You know exactly why I’m calling. Why did you break up with Chloe?” “She told you?” “Don’t change the subject. What’s the reason?” “I’m heading into a meeting. We’ll talk later.” He had already hung up. “That little jerk. He hung up on me…” I got up and went to the bathroom to find some numbing spray. I had accidentally bitten my tongue. The fact that Liam was even more unfazed than I was… that was something I truly hadn’t expected. 2 I met Liam the summer of my junior year in college when I took a job as a private tutor. He was a rich kid living in a massive estate with its own helipad. He was incredibly rebellious. Before I even showed up for the interview, he had already chased away three other tutors. On my first day, I arrived at nine. By noon, he was still asleep in his massive bed. The butler handed me a phone, signaling me to take the call. “You’re the tutor for today?” His voice was thick with sleep. “Are you awake?” I took a deep breath. “Have the butler bring you in.” It was a total command. The butler led me to the door. “Miss Adams, this is the young master’s room.” I knocked twice. No response. I pushed the door open slightly, took one look inside, and immediately tried to back out, but a strong force yanked me in. “You’ve already seen everything. What are you hiding from, Teach?” He was shirtless, pinning my hand against the wall. Even though he was still in high school, he was already a full head taller than me. “I’ll wait for you outside.” I steadied my breathing, putting on my ‘older and wiser’ persona, shoved him away, and backed out of the room. Behind me, I could hear his light, mocking laughter. I clenched my fists. Brat. I’ll put up with it for the paycheck. 3 In the study, during the half-hour trial lesson, he was totally distracted, looking down at his phone playing games the entire time. I figured I was done for. “Miss Adams, how did it go?” “I think you’d better find someone else…” I was holding back a lot of frustration. “She’s the one. Be here tomorrow for the lesson.” I didn’t even notice when he had walked out of the study, but he was already lazily heading upstairs. “…” “Wonderful! Miss Adams, please arrive on time tomorrow.” “…Right. Okay.” At first, I thought I had some kind of special charm that made him choose me. I worked incredibly hard every day prepping his materials. Turns out, I was overthinking it. A month went by, and he hadn’t paid attention for a single day. I couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his textbook shut. “If you’re not interested in what I’m teaching, why are you making me stay?” He ignored me and kept mashing buttons on his game. The money was good, but taking it felt like a scam. Every time his mom asked me if he was improving, I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I packed up my things, ready to quit on the spot. As I was about to leave, a long leg stretched out and blocked my path. “You mad?” I turned my head. He finally put his phone down and looked up at me seriously. I glanced at the table; his phone screen was still flashing. “Wouldn’t dare. Keep playing. I won’t be coming back.” He didn’t move his leg. He just stared at me stubbornly. I froze for a second. “Liam, Miss Adams, I brought some fruit for you two.” Mrs. Vance knocked and walked in, freezing when she saw our standoff. “What’s going on here?” I was determined to leave. “Mrs. Vance, I’m sorry…” “Add fifty bucks an hour to her pay. My midterms went up.” Me: “…” I looked at him in total disbelief. Going from a 10% to a 12% is considered an improvement? I really had to thank him for just copying down the introduction to his English Literature essay. “Really?!” Mrs. Vance’s eyes went wide with joy. “Yeah.” “Okay! Consider it done. We’ll start the new rate from this lesson on.” I was too embarrassed to bring up quitting after that, so I bit the bullet and stayed. 4 Later, I spent so much time trying to figure out why he ever got interested in me. Was it during the basketball game, when I was cheering for a guy in my major, and he glared at me before showing off on the court to prove himself? Was it because I tutored him for a month, felt guilty taking the money when he didn’t listen, and finally slammed the book shut to quit? Or was it just that we were stuck in a study together during his peak teenage hormone years, and opposites attracted? … One day, Sarah and I were getting afternoon coffee. She suddenly tapped my shoulder and pointed across the room. “Wow. He doesn’t show up often, but when he does, he takes up all the air in the room. That little wolf pup has been staring at your back for a while now.” I turned around. Over by the window, Liam and a few of his basketball buddies were drinking iced sodas. Sarah was the one who had gotten me this tutoring gig in the first place. I turned back, calmly wiping the condensation off my glass. “You’re his cousin. Don’t make weird jokes.” In reality, I didn’t want to admit that toward the end of the tutoring sessions, the kid had actually started behaving. I sensed things were getting weird, so I promptly ended the tutoring arrangement. “The way he looks at you isn’t normal. That boy has got it bad.” … I was packing up my things to leave. But I was a step too late. Liam walked over. He was ridiculously tall and incredibly handsome. Just him moving across the room drew a lot of eyes to our table. Sarah rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, so you do remember your cousin. Nice of you to come say hi.” He sat down on Sarah’s side of the booth, stretching his long legs out. I don’t know if it was intentional, but the tip of his shoe brushed against mine. A shiver ran through my entire body. I avoided his deep, dark eyes. I was speechless. How did a high school kid have this kind of intimidating aura? “Are you free next Tuesday?” Sarah looked like she was watching a movie unfold. “Asking me? Or asking your beloved tutor?” “It’s my birthday next week. I booked a table at that exclusive rooftop place downtown. Both of you come.” I politely declined first, looking at Sarah. “You go ahead. I have an evening seminar that night.” He played with the iced Coke in his hand, looking up through his messy bangs with dark, brooding eyes. “Is that so?” I looked at Sarah for help, terrified she was going to stir the pot. Sarah looked disappointed. “Aw, man. I guess I’ll have to go alone. Tell you what, I’ll bring your present from Miss Adams with me.” Liam stood up to head back to his table, leaving one sentence behind before he walked away: “If you’re not feeling well, don’t drink iced coffee.” I was stunned. I was drinking an iced Americano, and my period had just ended. Sarah took a massive gulp of her hot latte and declared, “It’s over. It’s totally over. My bratty little cousin is going to turn into your fiercely loyal guard dog.” … On the night of his birthday, I got a text from him. “Why no present?” It was sent at 2:00 AM. Right before sunrise, I texted him back. “Study hard. Wishing you success.” And then I blocked him. Half a month later, I went to another city for my college internship. Later, I heard from Sarah that Liam had gone to study abroad. And after that, Sarah got busy with her own love life and career, and we never brought him up again. 5 Until five years later, when my office lobby was buzzing. A coworker ran up to me excitedly. “Chloe, there’s an incredibly hot guy looking for you at the front door. Get out there!” I walked out and froze. The stunning young man in a tailored suit standing in the sunset was now a high-powered business elite who looked like he could conquer the world. Under the shocked gazes of my coworkers, he walked right up to me. “Long time no see.” My normally quiet heart gave a rare, violent flutter. Steak, red wine, a huge bed. Half lucid, half lost in a haze, I let myself go completely. Everything was perfectly in sync, and he was flawlessly gentle. It was hard to imagine that the cold, unsmiling boss at the office was this hungry at home. Before Liam brought up the breakup, I hadn’t seen a single warning sign. But when it happened so suddenly, aside from a tiny bit of discomfort, I accepted it calmly. 6 “A blind date?!” Sarah shrieked through the phone. I looked down at the profile of the high-quality bachelor in my hand. “Yeah. Don’t act so shocked. I’m twenty-eight. While I’ve still got an edge, finding a great guy to settle down with isn’t a crazy idea.” Truthfully, I was going on this date because my mom was pressuring me endlessly. Since I couldn’t stay single forever, I might as well find someone decent and tie the knot early. “Fine, that makes sense. I support you! We’re gonna find someone way better and make the guy who didn’t appreciate you regret it.” Sarah was still hung up on the fact that Liam was the one who dumped me. It really bothered her. “Alright, hanging up now. I’m heading out.” “Text me the address. Once I’m done with work, I’ll swing by and help you evaluate him.” 7 The guy my mom handpicked for me was, as expected, a catch. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was also a gentleman and quite funny. Just as we were hitting it off, I don’t know if it was pure coincidence or what, but Liam walked right into the same coffee shop. He seemed to be coming in for a quick break. After taking a seat at a table near the wall, he had his assistant order him a coffee while he stared intently at his laptop, working. I told myself I was overthinking it and immediately pulled my gaze back. “They said the English Literature major was gorgeous, and seeing you today, the rumors were true.” Getting complimented by my date put me in a great mood, so I didn’t hold back on returning the favor. “Oh, please. You’re the one turning heads, Ethan. I’ve seen my fair share of good-looking guys, but someone as handsome as you? That’s a first.” “Haha, I can tell. You’re not just beautiful, you’re sweet too. I’m so lucky a girl like you actually agreed to a blind date with me.” “Um, I do have one question, if you don’t mind? I’m just genuinely curious.” “Go ahead. If I can answer it, I will.” “I felt a great connection with you the second we met, so I’m honestly wondering… how did your last relationship end?” “Ah…” “If it’s uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about it.” I glanced in Liam’s direction and said calmly, “It’s nothing uncomfortable. Honestly, I’ve just been a total workaholic lately. I haven’t been dating at all.” Cough. Liam suddenly choked violently. I looked over. His assistant immediately hovered over him. “Mr. Vance, is the coffee too hot?!” Liam kept a stone-cold expression. “Too bitter. Get me some sugar.” Even though we were sitting so close, he never once glanced in my direction. And to think, he used to call me ‘baby’. I boredly looked back at my date. Ethan paused for a second, then seemed to brush it off and laughed. “Makes sense. With how amazing you are, if you were dating, someone would have locked you down and kept you all to themselves by now. Why wait? How about this, we don’t have each other’s numbers yet. Let’s exchange contacts?” I agreed instantly. “Sure.” Just as we were scanning each other’s phones, Liam walked briskly past our table, laptop in hand. His strides were sharp, and I only managed to catch sight of his assistant hurriedly rushing to keep up with him. 8 That night, Sarah called. “How was the date? Did you like him? I’m so sorry, work was insane this afternoon and I couldn’t slip away.” I muted the TV. “He’s actually great. Height, looks, income—all excellent. Definitely worth trying. He seemed pretty interested in me, too.” It was loud on her end; she must have been at a bar. “HEIGHT, LOOKS, INCOME?! YOU’RE HAPPY WITH ALL OF IT AND YOU’VE DECIDED TO DATE HIM?!” Sarah suddenly screamed into the phone at the top of her lungs, as if terrified someone wouldn’t hear her. “Keep your voice down, you’re going to blow out my eardrum.” “I’m at a bar, it’s loud in here! I wanted to make sure you heard me!” “Blegh—” Suddenly, I heard the sound of someone throwing up on the other end. “Did you just throw up?” “Heh, no, that wasn’t me… It’s just a heartbreaker getting some instant karma.” “A heartbreaker?” “Blegh—” “You idiot, why did you throw up on me?! …I gotta go.” Sarah, who had just been giggling, angrily hung up the phone. Summer nights always make the air feel restless. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. I grabbed my phone, scrolled through Instagram, and finally caved and clicked on Liam’s profile. It was still that same aloof profile picture. I clicked into his feed. Not a single post. I threw my phone down. Great. We broke up, and he literally feels nothing at all. 9 Going on a blind date is normal. But your ex’s mom eager to set you up with her nephew? That’s highly abnormal. And yet, that’s exactly what happened to me. Word got around that after Liam and I broke up, I was going on dates. Liam’s mom, Mrs. Vance, actually invited me to their house to set me up with Liam’s cousin, who was a commercial pilot. “Are you insane?!” I subtly pinched Sarah’s arm. I was totally tricked into coming here. Bright and early, Sarah sent a driver to pick me up, saying she was setting me up with a great guy. Turns out, the driver pulled right up to the Vance estate, and it was Mrs. Vance setting me up. I was completely dumbfounded. “You can’t blame me! When my aunt heard you were going on blind dates, she said we couldn’t let a catch like you leave the family, so she had to introduce you to the best.” “Let me tell you, she knows about the breakup. She gave Liam hell for two days straight. My aunt really loves you. Now that you guys are done, she wants to find you a reliable guy so she knows you’re taken care of.” “They wouldn’t even write this script for a soap opera.” I sat on pins and needles, scanning the room. The bedroom doors upstairs were closed. Thank God Liam wasn’t home. “Hehe, honestly, I didn’t expect my aunt to be this proactive either.” I knew this house very well. Back when I was a tutor, and during the six months Liam and I dated, he brought me here a couple of times. What surprised me was that Mrs. Vance never acted like my middle-class background was beneath them. When I first came over as Liam’s girlfriend, she even gave me an incredibly generous holiday gift. I was just incredibly embarrassed the whole time. Transitioning from ‘the tutor’ to ‘the girlfriend’ was extremely awkward. 10 Mrs. Vance brought out a plate of fruit. “If Sarah hadn’t told me you two broke up, I’d have no idea. That stupid boy doesn’t know what he had. I’m so angry at him.” She handed me a piece of melon on a fork. I was honestly overwhelmed by her kindness. “Thank you, Mrs. Vance. Honestly, we just weren’t a great fit. Breaking up early was the best thing for both of us.” Just then, a car pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Vance headed to the door. “He’s here.” Soon after, a tall, well-built man still wearing his pilot’s uniform walked in. I blinked. The Vance family genetics were truly unfair. Before I knew it, he was standing in front of me with a bouquet of champagne roses, smiling warmly. “I’m so sorry, traffic was terrible. Thank you for waiting. I brought some flowers as an apology, I hope that’s alright?” “It’s totally fine.” I took the flowers out of politeness. Sarah was watching us with giddy excitement and elbowed me. “Handsome, right? Doesn’t lose out to that little punk at all.” After saying that, Sarah darted a glance toward the upstairs. “What are you looking at?” She immediately snapped her gaze back, eyes gleaming, and dragged me toward the dining room. “Nothing… looking at nothing! Let’s go, time to eat.” On the grand dining table, exquisite dishes were perfectly arranged. Mrs. Vance waved us over. “I made all of this myself. Everyone, come taste.”

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  • One Hour Too Late: The Heart He Broke Forever

    I made Keir Sterling angry. No matter how I tried to make it up to him, he wouldn’t budge. Even when I told him I wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t panic the way he used to. I got off the Amtrak train and called him. “Keir, I’m in San Francisco for my heart appointment. Can you take me to the hospital?” Keir’s voice was sharp over the line. “Your heart was fixed years ago. Stop playing the victim, Leo. It’s pathetic.” A dull ache throbbed in my chest. “It’s just a follow-up,” I whispered. He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Fine. Then stay there and wait.” I sat obediently in a corner of the crowded station. I waited for a long time. I waited until my heartbeat slowed, fluttered, and finally stopped. Keir never showed up. 01 Before I closed my eyes, I didn’t know I would die like this—so abruptly, in the waiting area of a noisy train station. I just felt very sleepy. I thought I’d just nap for a little while. Just a quick nap, and then I’d see Keir. I imagined him standing over me, sternly demanding why I couldn’t stay home instead of coming to the city to cause trouble. I closed my eyes, rehearsing the excuses I’d use to beg him to take me to the clinic: Because Keir was always the one who took me to my appointments. Because the insurance info was on his phone. Because if the doctor asked about my childhood surgery, Keir was the only one who remembered the details. Yeah. Those were the reasons. It definitely wasn’t because I missed him too much. But when I opened my eyes again, I saw my own body. It was still sitting in that corner of the crowded, grimy terminal. My head was tilted back against the wall, my eyelashes still, my body unmoving. I looked like I was just sleeping peacefully. My phone vibrated and slid from my lap, hitting the floor. I reached out to grab it without thinking, but my hand passed right through it. I stared at my translucent fingertips. The realization hit me with a slow, heavy thud. I was dead. Quietly, invisibly dead in a terminal full of strangers. I had died while waiting for Keir Sterling to come and “save” me. The screen lit up. A text from Keir from a minute ago. [Still waiting?] [That proves you weren’t actually sick.] [Leo, you’re lying again.] I didn’t lie, I said to the empty air. I really didn’t feel well. I was born with a heart defect. I had the surgery when I was six, and everyone thought I was cured. But three months ago, the tightness returned. My lips would turn blue, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Before “the incident,” Keir would have been terrified. He would have dropped everything to get me to a specialist. But now, he didn’t believe a word I said. He was convinced I was a manipulative liar who would do anything for attention. Ever since we were teenagers, Keir had acted more like a parent than a brother. He was serious, mature, and protective. He worried about every scratch, every draft. He controlled the layers of clothes I wore and the temperature of the AC in my room. If I coughed or even frowned, Keir was there. I was spoiled by that attention. I grew selfish. I used to cling to him and say, “I’m never getting married.” I’d wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze hard. “And you’re not allowed to marry anyone either, Keir. You have to stay with me forever.” Keir would just laugh and ruffle my hair. “Stop talking nonsense,” he’d say, his voice not stern at all. And when I’d pouted, he’d add, “I’ll wait until you’re married first, okay? Will that make you happy?” I didn’t answer. I’d just stare up at his face for a long time. Half of me wanted time to stop forever. The other half hoped for something to change. Something did change. Just not the way I wanted. I should have looked at him longer while I was alive, I thought, staring at my own corpse. Now, I would never see him again. People walked past me, but no one looked twice. Someone sleeping in a train station was the most normal thing in the world. Then, a pair of small hands picked up the phone from the floor. 02 It was the little girl who had been sitting next to me. While I was still alive, we had talked for a bit. We’d even traded nicknames. She called me the “Pretty Boy,” and I called her “Sweet Pea.” Sweet Pea looked at the glowing screen, trying to read the text. But she was only five; the words were just shapes to her. She frowned, looked at me for a long time, and then gently tucked the phone back into my hand. She didn’t want to wake me. “Pretty Boy,” she whispered. “You dropped your phone. Hold it tight.” When I didn’t answer, she skipped back to her mother’s arms. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed again. Another text from Keir: [I’m already at St. Mary’s.] [If you want to come, call an Uber yourself.] He had promised to pick me up. Why did he change his mind? Was he not feeling well? Worrying about him, my spirit was suddenly yanked away. In a blink, I was floating in the hallway of St. Mary’s Medical Center. The first person I saw was Keir. He was in a charcoal-grey bespoke suit, his back to me, talking on the phone. He looked as mature and handsome as ever. No amount of stress seemed to touch him. I drifted toward him, intending to play a ghostly prank, when I heard him speak. “The doctor is checking Caleb now. He should be fine. Don’t worry, Mom.” Caleb? Why was he here? A second later, the exam room door opened. Keir hung up and walked over. “How is he?” he asked the person walking out. “Keir, the doctor said it’s nothing serious,” Caleb said. He grabbed Keir’s arm, his brow furrowed in a practiced wince. “But I still feel really shaky. Can you stay with me?” Caleb was such an actor. He was definitely faking it. I felt a surge of ghostly annoyance. I tried to grab his neck, but my hands just passed right through his throat. I watched Keir give Caleb a small, rare smile. “Okay,” he said softly. Keir was tall and imposing, with sharp features and a gaze that could be chillingly cold. When he wasn’t speaking, he carried an air of effortless authority. But whenever he smiled at me, I thought he was the gentlest man on earth. But Keir hadn’t smiled at me in a very long time. “However,” Keir’s gentle expression faded slightly. “Leo should be arriving soon. I have to take him for his heart check-up.” A flash of resentment crossed Caleb’s eyes, but he hid it instantly. He smiled and said, “Keir, you’re the best person I know. Leo isn’t even your real brother, and he’s lied to you so many times. I can’t believe you’re still being this good to him.” Memories of my “lies” must have hit Keir. His face darkened. “This is the last time,” he said, his voice flat. “After today, if he comes looking for me with another one of his stunts, I won’t see him.” I hovered in that sterile, white hallway. The cold wind from an open window seemed to blow right through me. It was strange. How could my heart still hurt if I was dead? It really is the last time, I thought. Keir. I won’t bother you ever again. Because I think I’m already gone. Caleb looked pleased with Keir’s answer. He started to pull him toward the exit. Before they reached the door, Keir’s phone rang. I drifted closer and heard the voice on the other end: “Mr. Sterling, do you have any news about Leo?” 03 “Leo Evans is no longer a member of this family.” Keir recognized the caller and spoke with cold impatience. “I hope you’ll stop using him as an excuse to contact the Sterlings.” The person on the phone was my biological mother. Maybe it was the cancer, or maybe it was the crushing weight of her own guilt, but her voice was a weak, trembling sob. “I was wrong, Keir. I never should have switched them at the hospital. But Leo is innocent. Can’t you… treat him the way you used to?” It was a classic, trashy novel plot. I was the “fake heir” of the Sterling family. When I was born, I was diagnosed with a severe heart defect. My biological mother, terrified she couldn’t afford to keep me alive, secretly swapped me with the Sterlings’ healthy newborn. She didn’t confess until recently, when her lung cancer became terminal. She had knelt at the gates of the Sterling estate, sobbing and banging her head on the pavement. “I was wrong! This is my karma! I’m dying! I’m giving Caleb back to you… just please, let me see Leo! He’s my real son!” When I finally met her, she wasn’t loving. She told me, “The Sterlings fixed your heart. You got a good deal. You had twenty years of luxury. Now it’s Caleb’s turn.” I wasn’t even that sad. She was right, after all. The night Caleb moved in, he came to my room pretending to be the peacemaker. He said he’d beg our parents to let me stay. I was a fool. I blushed and told him, “I want to stay, too. But not as Keir’s brother.” So I confessed to Keir. I told him I was relieved we weren’t blood-related. I told him I’d known for a long time that what I felt for him wasn’t just “family” love. I told him I wanted to be with him forever. I waited, my heart pounding, looking into his eyes. I only saw coldness and disgust. “Forever?” Keir had sneered. “You just want to stay in this house and keep the lifestyle you stole.” He pulled out an audio recorder. It played a conversation I’d supposedly had with Caleb the day before. But the words were wrong. It sounded like my voice, but it was saying things I never said: I have a way to stay. If I get with Keir, they won’t kick me out. I’ve been acting close to him for years just for this moment. The sound of an ambulance siren outside snapped me out of the memory. An ER doctor rushed past, bumping into Keir. “Sorry,” the doctor panted. “We have a DOA coming in. Need to prep for a possible resuscitation.” Keir nodded absently. He turned back to the phone. “So you’re saying I should just let him keep playing his little games? Let him use me?” He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “I guess ‘low-life’ runs in the blood. Why else would he think of confessing to his own ‘brother’ to save his skin?” The background noise of the phone call grew louder. I heard a nurse in the background: “Bed 3, if you don’t pay the deposit, we have to stop the meds…” Keir heard it. “Leo didn’t come to see me because he’s sick. He’s here to beg for more money for you, isn’t he?” Without waiting for an answer, Keir hung up. He immediately typed a message: [Leo, don’t bother coming.] [I’m not giving you another cent.] I didn’t come for money, I thought. I’m never taking your money again. I instinctively stepped back as Keir walked past me. Even though he couldn’t see me, I felt the need to get away. He really, really hated me. “He’s not coming. Let’s go,” Keir told Caleb. They walked out of the hospital. As they reached the car, an ambulance screeched to a halt at the ER entrance. A gurney covered in a white sheet was rushed inside. Keir caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror, then looked away, his jaw tight. The Rolls Royce began to roll toward the exit. Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes. The ER doctor from earlier was tapping on the back window. Keir rolled it down. “Is there a problem?” 04 “Excuse me, is this yours?” The doctor held out a cufflink. It was matte platinum wrapped around a finely cut black onyx. It was the birthday gift I’d given Keir last year. Keir recognized it instantly. He took it. “Yes. It is.” “It must have snagged on me when we bumped into each other,” the doctor said. “It fell right into my pocket.” Keir gripped the cufflink in his palm and nodded thanks. The car drove off. Caleb started talking again, but Keir was silent. He didn’t open his hand. I sat in the corner of the backseat, watching his profile. Was he remembering that birthday? The cufflink was a custom piece from a famous independent designer. It was outrageously expensive. I wanted to buy it with my own money, not the Sterlings’ allowance. I had spent six months painting late into the night, selling my work piece by piece until I had enough. At midnight on his birthday, I’d snuck into his room. He was looking at spreadsheets, frowning, but he smiled the second he saw me. I stood in front of him and commanded, “Stay serious. No smiling.” I told him to close his eyes. Keir obeyed, but his lips kept twitching upward. The room was so quiet I could hear my own heart. “Leo?” he’d whispered when I stayed quiet too long. I’d nervously pushed the velvet box into his hand. “You can open them now.” He looked genuinely surprised. “Put it on for me,” he’d smiled. As I reached for his sleeve, I realized my fingers were shaking. I shoved the box into his hand, muttered “Happy Birthday,” and bolted out of the room. Back in my own bed, I replayed the scene over and over. A few minutes later, Keir knocked and walked in. He pulled me out from under the covers and laughed. “Why are you running?” I looked at him, wanting to say, You have no idea. Keir handed me a large gift box. Inside was a professional set of custom paints and an antique brush I’d wanted for years. The set alone cost more than the cufflinks. It was a San Francisco spring night. The scent of magnolia blossoms drifted through the open window. “Do you like it?” Keir asked, messing up my hair. He looked at me with such pure, raw affection. “I love it,” I whispered. The Rolls Royce pulled into the Sterling estate. My mother met them at the door. “How is Caleb?” she asked. Keir said he was fine. Caleb did his routine. He hugged Mom and said he felt dizzy. Mom comforted him briefly and sent him to bed. But when Caleb was gone, her face remained pale. “Mom, are you okay?” Keir asked. Mom rubbed her chest, frowning. “Caleb is fine, but why do I feel so restless? So scared?” “Do you think something happened to Leo? The city is so cold this time of year, and his heart…” “Keir, go get him. Bring him home. Please.” 05 Keir gave a dismissive smile. “What could happen to him?” “He’s always been dramatic. He fakes being sick just so we’ll all orbit around him. Besides, his heart was fixed years ago.” Mom shook her head, her eyes full of worry. “You were there for the follow-ups, Keir. Didn’t you listen to the doctors? A successful surgery in childhood doesn’t mean a cure for life. Many of those kids need valve replacements as adults.” Mom kept talking, oblivious to Keir’s expression suddenly freezing. “Leo was always so smart. When he was fine, he’d act out, make us laugh, make us think he was invincible. But when he was actually hurting… he’d get so quiet. So well-behaved.” “Do you remember when he fainted at school? I rushed to the hospital and asked him why he went to class if he felt bad. Do you know what he told me?” Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “That boy said he knew his condition was serious. He knew he might die. He said that if it was going to happen, he wanted to be far away. He didn’t want to die at home.” “He said that way, we wouldn’t have to be sad every time we walked into a room. We wouldn’t have to be afraid of our own house.” Mom choked on a sob. “Silly boy. He talked about himself like he was a stray dog nobody wanted!” I floated in the air, wanting to hug her. I wanted to wipe her tears. But I couldn’t. I really did die far away from home. Just like a stray dog. I couldn’t help but envy Caleb. He had such good parents. Such a good brother. Even the mother who stole me for him had tried to plan his future with her last breath. Keir remained silent for a long time, his jaw working. “He’s in the city,” he said finally. “He probably came to ask for money.” Mom looked shocked. “How? He didn’t take any of his credit cards. He didn’t take any of the luxury things we bought him. Why would he come back for money now?” Keir’s voice wavered. “His biological mother… her hospital bills. They were going to stop her meds.” Mom sighed. “That’s because she was being transferred. We pre-paid a massive deposit at a specialized hospice for her, Keir. Out of respect for her raising Caleb.” Keir’s face went ash-white. “Really?” “Yes! Now call him. Find out where he is. Tell him his Mom and Dad are waiting for him at home.” Keir pulled out his phone. He finally dialed my number. I listened to the monotonous ringing and thought: No one is going to answer. But a second later, the call was picked up. 06 The background was full of noise, but no one spoke. “Leo!” Keir barked. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?!” There was a soft gasp on the other end. Two seconds later, a tiny, childish voice spoke. “Are you the person the Pretty Boy is waiting for?” Keir froze. He softened his tone. “Who is this?” “I’m Sweet Pea!” Keir took a breath, trying to be patient. “Can you put the owner of the phone on the line, please?” “Um…” Sweet Pea sounded hesitant. She whispered into the phone, “But the Pretty Boy is sleeping. He looks really tired, so he’s been sleeping for a long time. My mommy says good girls don’t wake people up.” Keir’s lips twitched in a mix of frustration and relief. “Tell him when he wakes up to stay exactly where he is. I’m coming to get him.” “Who are you?” Sweet Pea asked. “Are you the one he’s waiting for?” Keir said, “Yes.” Sweet Pea sounded confused. “No. The Pretty Boy said he was waiting for his big brother. He said his brother is very gentle and kind. He said his brother is the best person in the whole world.” She lowered her voice. “But you sound so mean…” Keir went dead silent. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He hung up. Mom looked at him reproachfully. “You let him wait so long he fell asleep?” Keir regained his stern composure. “I just wanted to teach him a lesson so he’d stop lying.” Mom looked at him with deep concern. “Leo was always your favorite person in the world, Keir. Why are you being so hard on him? Just because he isn’t your blood?” Keir didn’t answer. He just shook his head. “You have a big heart, Keir. You don’t let many things get to you,” Mom said softly. “Only the people you care about can truly make you angry. But Leo is sensitive. Don’t break his heart.” Did he break my heart? I wondered. A little bit, maybe. When he accused me of faking it, of lying to get money… my heart had hurt with a sharp, physical intensity. Mom didn’t know about my confession. She didn’t know why Keir was so angry. How could it be because he cared? How could someone who cares be so cruel? I couldn’t understand. Keir stepped out into the night. It had started to snow. Traffic was a nightmare. The Rolls Royce crawled through the slush. Keir rolled down the window twice to check the street, but he didn’t tell the driver to hurry. As they neared the station, Keir sent another text. [Can you make it to the exit yourself?] He quickly followed it with: [Never mind. Stay in the waiting room. Don’t move.] By the time the car parked, I still hadn’t replied. Keir walked toward the terminal, his face set in a cold mask of irritation. “Leo, you’re really pushing it now,” he muttered to himself. “Wait until I see you—” He stopped dead. I looked where he was looking. He was looking at me. 07 The terminal was still packed. Travelers were rushing everywhere with their suitcases. Keir was tall and striking, a beacon of wealth in the middle of the grime. There was snow on his shoulders. He was staring at me. I was exactly as I had been. Leaning against the wall, eyes closed. The quietest person in the room. Keir suddenly didn’t seem to be in a rush anymore. His steps were slow, silent. He didn’t want to wake me. He stopped in front of me and looked at me for a long time. Then, he reached out and tapped my forehead. “Leo. You’ve made your point. Stop pretending.” When I didn’t move, Keir let out a frustrated huff. He did what he used to do when I was being stubborn—he pinched my cheek. “If you don’t get up right now, I’m leaving. Don’t cry to me about it later.” He gave my shoulder a firm nudge. My body lost its balance. I slumped forward, soft and heavy, right into Keir’s arms. “Leo!” He caught me, his patience at an end. “Wake up! Stop playing around!” Then, he felt it. The weight. The temperature. Keir finally looked at my face. His fingertips began to shake as he touched my purple-tinged lips. He grabbed my hand. My fingernails were blue. “Leo?” He said my name again, but the anger was gone. Sweet Pea hopped off her chair. “Is the Pretty Boy okay? Is he just being lazy?” Keir scooped me up in a bridal carry and sprinted for the exit. “He’s sick!” he barked at no one in particular. The heater in the Rolls Royce was blasting, but my body remained cold. Keir couldn’t warm me up. He called the hospital, telling them he had a patient in a deep coma with severe cyanosis. He told them to have a team ready at the door. The driver was flying. Keir kept telling him to go faster. He looked at my face, and his own breathing grew ragged, uneven. The car swerved through the storm, making my body toss. Keir held me tighter. “It’s okay,” he whispered over and over. “Don’t be afraid. We’re almost there.” My cold forehead was pressed against his neck. I couldn’t feel his warmth. It’s no use, Keir, I thought. There’s no hope left. I looked out the window. The snow was hitting the glass in clumps, shattering. I remembered seeing that same image once through a plane window. Keir had been on a business trip over New Year’s. I’d lied to my professors, taken a red-eye flight, and flown through a blizzard to surprise him. The plane had circled for an hour, briefly losing contact with the tower. When I landed, Keir was waiting at the gate. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot with fury. “Leo Sterling, who gave you permission to do this?!” He’d grabbed my wrists, his voice shaking with a rage I’d never seen. “Why couldn’t you just stay home?! What if the plane crashed?! What if you died?!” I’d looked up at him, the snowflakes on my lashes melting into my eyes. “Because I didn’t want you to be alone on New Year’s Eve.” “I’m sorry,” I’d whispered. Keir had stared at me for a few seconds, then the anger vanished. Like every other person in the arrivals hall, he’d pulled me into a crushing embrace. He held me so tight I couldn’t tell if I was forgiven. But I loved it. I wanted him to hold me forever. I realize now that Keir really did give me hope back then. That was why I was foolish enough to confess. I overplayed my hand.

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  • The Sterling Debt: Stolen by the Billionaire Who Forgot Me

    Silas Sterling had a car accident and lost his memory. He forgot everything—including the fact that he had once systematically hunted me down and forced me to be his. When his family found out, they didn’t waste a heartbeat. They helped him divorce me before he could even form a sentence. Less than twelve hours later, I stood in a strange city, a divorce decree in one hand and a massive settlement check in the other, feeling utterly lost. After being the object of Silas’s “forced affection” for so long, this sudden freedom felt like a phantom limb. I settled down in this new city, starting a quiet, ordinary life. Then, one day while grocery shopping, someone covered my mouth and nose from behind. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, terrifyingly familiar basement. A cold, crisp male voice whispered in my ear: “Be my woman, and I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” …Great. Exactly like the first time. 1 By the time I learned about Silas Sterling’s amnesia, it had been a full week since the crash. The surgeons had spent hours in the OR just to keep his heart beating. His mother told me about it with tears of grief in one eye and sparks of fury in the other. “If it weren’t for his obsession with finding you, Silas would never have ended up like this!” she spat. She said Silas was supposedly in a therapy session that day. When he discovered I had escaped, he jumped into his car and sped off to hunt me down. In a moment of distraction, he slammed head-on into a speeding semi-truck. Luckily, his car was expensive enough that the safety features saved his life, and the truck driver swerved just enough to avoid a total kill. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have just lost his memory; he would have been signing up for reincarnation. I had a sudden realization. Oh… so that was it. No wonder he hadn’t come for me all those days. I actually thought my GPS tracker had finally malfunctioned. Meanwhile, I’d been shivering in the wind on a remote island for a week for no reason. 2 I was the wife Silas Sterling took by force. To be honest, I never saw what attracted him to me. I was just a regular corporate workhorse, and he was the CEO’s boss. The only “spark” between us, if you can call it that, happened at a corporate gala. I had used a wine bottle to crack open the skull of his cousin, who was busy harassing a junior staffer. At the time, I was certain I was getting fired. The next day, instead of a pink slip, I got a transfer order. I was moved from that crumbling branch office to the high-rise headquarters everyone was dying to get into. My salary tripled. I became a dedicated corporate drone immediately, working like my life depended on it. Silas seemed to appreciate my hustle. He always greeted me with a smile, gave me raises and promotions like they were candy, fired the managers who tried to sabotage me, and helped me get rid of a persistent, toxic ex-boyfriend. He validated my work and covered for all my mistakes. He wore the cheap cufflinks I bought him every single day for years. I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Every day after work, I’d practically thank the stars for such an incredible boss. I was prepared to work for him for the rest of my life. Then came the night I had too much to drink at a firm event. In a blur, Silas helped me into his car. He let me lean against his shoulder and whispered, “Sleep. I’ll get you home.” I don’t have a high tolerance, and that night was enough to put me out until morning. But for some reason, I woke up halfway through the drive. I opened my eyes and saw Silas Sterling. He was leaning in, secretly kissing my lips. 3 Silas tore the veil right off. He stopped pretending. He told me he loved me. A billionaire’s pursuit is always blunt and overwhelming. Private jets, yachts, diamond gowns, rare art—if I could dream it, he could buy it. And he wasn’t exactly hard to look at, either. Sharp features, broad shoulders, a narrow waist. He looked sophisticated when he smiled and dangerously innocent when he didn’t. Every time I walked down the street with him, people looked at me like I’d won the lottery. But I’m an honest person. I just didn’t love him. I thought, If this were a scam, I’d take him for every cent he’s worth. But it wasn’t. I hated to admit that the mountain of gold and silver he piled up for me was actually built on genuine affection. And according to the universe, deceiving a sincere heart is a cardinal sin. So, after I rejected him for the hundredth time, he snapped. He owned a waterfront estate with a soundproofed “panic room.” Every time I tried to run, he’d drag me back there to “show me how much he cared.” Afterward, with his face still flushed, he’d force me to talk about marriage. “Be my woman. I’ll give you the world,” he’d say. He threatened me. He told me if I didn’t agree, he’d lock me up forever so I’d never see the sun again. Of course, he said those things a thousand times and never actually did them. Every time he caught me, he’d get so frustrated by my indifference that his eyes would turn red, looking like he was the one being bullied. I usually stayed quiet for a while after that—mostly because I thought he looked incredibly sexy when he was on the verge of tears. At first, the whole “cat and mouse” game was almost fresh. But after a while, even I got bored. I couldn’t get away, and he couldn’t bring himself to actually hurt me. Besides, the estate was massive with plenty of unexplored corners; spending all my time in a cramped basement room wasn’t practical. So, on a beautiful, sunny afternoon, I married Silas Sterling. 4 Most of the time, Silas was dominant. Like every possessive man in power, he wanted me glued to his side, tracking my every move 24/7. But he was also deeply insecure. He knew our marriage was something he’d obtained through less-than-noble means, so he never actually dared to keep me locked in the house like a bird in a cage. He was neurotic. If he didn’t see me, he’d lose his mind. Eventually, torn between his insecurity and his need for control, he couldn’t help himself. While I was sleeping, he had GPS trackers embedded in my phone and my jewelry. If he noticed I’d been out for more than twenty-four hours, he’d show up within an hour to “retrieve” me. Once I figured out the pattern, I just started treating him like a personal Uber. If I got tired of wandering around, I’d just find a place to take a nap. I knew that when I woke up, I’d be in my pajamas in our oversized bed at home. It was as convenient as a teleportation spell. Of course, the price was waking up to “souvenirs” he’d leave on my skin. 5 This time, I miscalculated. I had only intended to take a day trip to the private island he’d gifted me. But three days passed, and not a single phone call came. I sat by the ocean, checking if the GPS in my phone was broken. I even wondered if a satellite had fallen out of orbit before I ever considered that something had happened to Silas. It turned out for the best. He had amnesia now. He’d forgotten me completely. When people told him he was married, he just waved them off with indifference. “Divorce her. I don’t even remember the woman,” he said. With a few strokes of fate’s pen, everyone won. Silas went back to being the cold, untouchable, workaholic billionaire he used to be. His mother could finally find him the “perfect” socialite debutante she’d always wanted for him. And me? I was free. Plus, I had eighty million dollars—USD. 6 Before I left, Silas’s mother warned me never to show my face to her son again. “Silas’s obsession with you was a psychological glitch. Now that he’s ‘cured,’ don’t even dream that he’ll ever look at you that way again.” I’d heard about Silas’s condition—a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder triggered by childhood trauma. Maybe that was why he was so stuck on me. It made sense. No sane person would ignore a woman’s lack of consent and go full “stolen bride” on her. The three-year marriage felt like a fever dream. When I woke up, the estate, the yachts, the diamonds, the basement… all gone. All I had was eighty million dollars in the bank. His mother told me to get lost, and I’m a woman of my word. I measured the furthest point from Silas on a map, booked the earliest flight, and flew away without looking back. 7 I settled in a city I didn’t know, bought a modest house, and filled it with simple furniture. Then, I found a part-time job at a local artisanal sweet shop. It felt like my life had reset to the time before I met Silas. Caleb Brooks, the grandson of the shop owner, was a senior in college who helped out during breaks. He loved following financial gossip. The shop’s projector was constantly playing news reels about CEOs and their scandals. That was how I saw Silas again. He was being discharged from the hospital. The media scrambled to photograph his still-pale face, but he didn’t give them a single glance. Cold, detached, untouchable. A reporter asked about the rumors of his secret marriage, even holding up a blurry, long-distance photo of me they’d found somewhere. “Mr. Sterling, is this lady your wife?” Silas glanced at it, his expression flat. “I’m sorry, I have no recollection of her.” Caleb sighed from the side. “Mr. Sterling is in his thirties, right? How is he still single?” “He’s a professor?” I asked, catching a detail. “Yeah, he used to be a guest lecturer at our university. Half the campus was in love with him.” “Why?” I leaned my head on my hand. “Because he didn’t take attendance?” “Because he’s hot, obviously!” Caleb told me stories about Silas—how he was the “Ice King” who rejected every girl and guy who threw themselves at him. The descriptions painted a picture of a man who perfectly matched the cold image on the screen. I remembered what Silas’s mother told me when we got married: “It’s all your fault. Silas wasn’t like this before he met you!” At the time, I thought she was delusional. How was I supposed to know what he was like before? From the day I met him, he’d been a relentless bastard who’d do anything to get what he wanted. The kind of guy who’d lick my hand after I slapped him. Now, I finally had a “Eureka” moment. Oh… so that was the real Silas Sterling. Psychological trauma really is a terrifying thing. It could make a refined, untouchable man go completely off the rails for me—making him act crazy, making him cry, making him do the most desperate things. Luckily, he’d forgotten. 8 Over the next few days, news about Silas was everywhere. Losing three years of memory didn’t seem to affect his business sense. One day he was acquiring a tech firm, the next he was closing a deal with a foreign tycoon. His business was more successful than ever. His media interviews were perfectly normal. The host asked if he was considering marriage soon. He said bluntly that he had no expectations for “romance” and would likely pursue a strategic business alliance in the future. “And if you meet a girl you actually like?” He gave a thin smile. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t do anything drastic. I respect a woman’s boundaries.” I stared at the screen in silence. Talk about a complete personality transplant. Caleb came out of the kitchen with a bowl of sweet rice pudding loaded with toppings. “Wow, generous today.” He grinned. “Gotta celebrate. I just got an offer.” “Congrats. Which firm?” “Sterling Group.” I choked on a rice ball and started coughing. “I thought… Sterling Group was based on the East Coast?” “They’re opening a massive West Coast branch. Haven’t you seen the news?” He rewound the interview by half an hour. There was Silas, talking about corporate expansion. And the first stop on his map? This exact city. I remembered my time as a corporate workhorse and gave Caleb a warning: “Headquarters is great, but branch offices are usually a grind.” “The pay is insane, though.” “You’re young. Why are you in such a rush for money?” Caleb caught my eye for a split second before looking away. “Maybe I want to feel more confident when I finally ask out the girl I like.” 9 I wasn’t imagining it. Caleb liked me. A twenty-year-old boy is too easy to read. The way his face flushed when we locked eyes, the way he fumbled with his sleeves, the way he’d “accidentally” show off his basketball moves—it was all there. Inevitably, he confessed. And I rejected him, quickly and cleanly. He wasn’t like Silas. When Silas was rejected, he’d just show up the next day acting like nothing happened, saying things like, “Persistence is a virtue.” Caleb was different. His eyes turned red the second I said no. He muttered a quick “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” and bolted out the door. At 11:00 PM, he still wasn’t back. His grandmother was pacing the floor in a panic. I was just about to call him when a text popped up: [Maya, I’m at the police station. Can you come bail me out?] 10 To my surprise, Caleb hadn’t done anything illegal out of heartbreak. In fact, he’d been a model employee all day. He’d been at a business dinner with a client. After the drinks started flowing, the client offered to take him to a “club” for some fun. Caleb, a bit tipsy, had followed along. He only realized the situation when someone tried to unbuckle his belt in a private VIP room. “I didn’t know the client was into guys or that the club was… that kind of place. I panicked and called the cops.” The result? He got caught up in the raid. “The client is threatening me,” Caleb said, looking like he was about to cry. “And my boss is on his way…” “Your boss?” I had a sinking feeling. “Which… boss?” “The big one…” Before he could finish, he stood up, his eyes welling with relief as he looked behind me. “Mr. Sterling. You came.” 11 Six months, and Silas hadn’t changed a bit. He still moved like a ghost, appearing out of thin air. I didn’t want to face him, so I pulled my baseball cap low and tried to disappear into the corner. He handled the police matter with surgical precision and didn’t show the client a shred of mercy, ensuring the man was charged. Through the glass, I heard him comforting Caleb. “Don’t worry about this in the future. The company always prioritizes employee safety.” “And don’t drink so much at business dinners.” Caleb sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sterling. I was just… having a bad day. I got rejected by someone, so I wasn’t thinking straight.” “Love is inherently random. The odds of the person you like liking you back are statistically low,” Silas said, sounding like a wise, patient mentor. “There are many women in the world. You’ll find the right one. “Some things shouldn’t be forced.” I listened from the sidelines, feeling a weird sense of relief. This was the first time I’d ever heard Silas Sterling talk like a functioning human being. It was surreal. “By the way,” Silas asked, “Where is your family?” Caleb snapped out of it and gestured toward me. “Oh, she’s right there.” Silas followed his hand and looked my way. And in that exact moment, I happened to look up.

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  • In the Name of My Sister

    I loved her. But that love was born out of ruin. My greatest joy in life was bullying her. I wanted to see her—so high and mighty, so untouchable—pinned beneath useless me, making a shattered expression. Later, I got bored. I wanted to start a new life, to get away from this deformed family. But before I could even board the flight out of the city, my vision went black. I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was tied to a bed. Sloane stood by the edge, watching me. “You always agreed to whatever I did to you. Since that’s the case, can’t you just be a good girl and stay by my side?” “Riley, where else do you think you can run to?” 1. When I was ten, my mom brought a girl home. She said that from then on, she would be my sister. That was also the day I completely became a “defective product.” It was a weekend. I remember it clearly because I had just been sent to the principal’s office, and they called my parents. My mom rarely showed up in person, so when she walked into the office, I was actually happy. Because I hadn’t seen her in a long time. But I couldn’t smile for long. On the drive back from school, my mom’s face was completely blank. She didn’t say a single word to me the entire way. I would have preferred a beating when we got home, or at least a scolding. That would mean she still cared. But she said nothing. She just sat in the car in silence, as if I didn’t even exist. When we walked into the house, I saw a girl sitting in the living room. She was much taller than me, thin, with her hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a washed-out, faded uniform. She sat on the very edge of our expensive leather sofa, her back perfectly straight, hands resting politely on her knees. Hearing the door, she looked up, revealing a clean, delicate face. I froze in place. I hadn’t figured out why this girl was in my house. My mom explained the situation through her actions. She walked over and stood right next to her. “This is Sloane. She’ll be your sister from now on.” I didn’t say a word. Because I didn’t know what to say. A sister? Where the hell did I get a sister? I stared at the girl, and she looked back at me. Then she smiled slightly and called out softly, “Hey, little sister.” At that exact moment, with those words, I understood everything. I looked at my mom and her standing side by side. I didn’t say a word. I turned around, went back to my room, and slammed the door as loud as I could. Growing up, the phrase my mom said to me the most was: “Riley, you need to be a person of value.” I always kept those words in my heart, trying my hardest to be the “valuable person” my mom talked about. I worked myself to the bone to get straight A’s, just to earn a fleeting smile or a brief word of praise. But everything started to change after I got into a car accident in the third grade. That day, the chauffeur was driving as usual, and I was in the backseat looking at my spelling words. But then came a blinding white light, a deafening crash, and the world spun out of control. I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up, I didn’t know how long I had been asleep. I just heard my mom’s cold, rational voice outside the hospital room: “Since she’s not in critical condition, let’s discharge her tomorrow.” I had barely survived the crash thanks to my seatbelt. But after that, I lost interest in almost everything. Whether it was life or school. My mom quickly noticed something was wrong. She took me to see top therapists, but the feedback was always the same… “She’s perfectly healthy.” “There’s no underlying condition.” I will always remember coming out of the doctor’s office for the last time. She stood on the sidewalk in Manhattan, sighed, and checked her watch. Then she told me: “Take a cab home yourself.” After that, my mom never took me to see another doctor. But I knew. Even though she didn’t say it, that sigh made it all clear. She was saying: “Riley, you’re useless now.” Sloane was an underprivileged student my mom had been sponsoring. Her father passed away, her mother remarried and abandoned her, and she lived with her grandmother in poor conditions. My mom had sponsored her for three years. She found her obedient, sensible, mature, and academically brilliant. So, she decided to officially adopt her. My mom never discussed this with me. She didn’t even give me a heads-up. It was as if adding or losing a daughter in this house had absolutely nothing to do with me. I was just someone who lived in this mansion. I had no voting rights, no right to speak, not even the right to be informed. In her eyes, I was a failure. A useless daughter. So whether I knew about this or not wouldn’t change the outcome. Similarly, my feelings, my everything—none of it mattered in this house. I figured that out very early on. That night, I lay face down on my bed, burying my face in the pillow. I didn’t cry. At ten years old, I already rarely cried. I just thought: every mother in the world loves her daughter. Why doesn’t my mom like me? 2. I thought about it for a long time and came to a conclusion. It must be because I wasn’t good enough, so she needed another daughter. And Sloane was that “good enough” daughter. She was four years older than me. She was fourteen when she came to my house, just starting middle school. Her grades were shockingly good. My mom transferred her to the best private prep school in the city, and she ranked first in her grade on the very first exam. When my mom saw her report card, a look of absolute joy appeared on her face—a look I had never seen before. From the day I was born, she had never looked at me with those eyes. My mom transferred me out of my school and put me in the elementary school attached to Sloane’s prep school. I didn’t know what her reasoning was. Maybe she thought it was easier for the driver to pick us up together, or maybe she wanted Sloane to “rub off on me.” But whatever the reason, it made no difference to me. I was still completely apathetic. I went from being at the top of my old class to the dead bottom of the new one. I adapted to this new dynamic very quickly. I was still constantly getting calls sent home, but now, the person showing up was Sloane. Because my mom never had time. My mom was never available. She was a senior partner at a top-tier investment bank, leaving early and coming back late. Sometimes she’d be away on business trips for days. We had a housekeeper who cooked and cleaned, taking care of me and Sloane. From childhood, my mom’s style of parenting me was simple: Give me money, give me a school, give me a place to live. She didn’t care about the rest. I was just a project in her life—a failed project she had abandoned to focus on a new, much more promising one. That was Sloane. From then on, I started to hate Sloane. No, more accurately, I started to bully her. I bullied her in many ways. At first, I hid her things. Her backpack, her textbooks, her iPad. I hid them all. I wanted to see her get anxious. I wanted to see her panic, running around looking for things. I wanted to see her cry. But she never did. Every time, she would calmly find me, crouch down to my eye level, and say in that gentle voice: “Riley, do you have my math book? Could you give it back?” I glared at her and threw the book right at her face. She caught it, smiled slightly, and said, “Thank you.” Thank you? I threw a book at her face, and she thanked me? What a psycho. Sloane changed her first name and took our last name. I couldn’t even remember what her original name was. Maybe it was Chloe? Or Claire? It didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that she was now Sloane Sterling. She shared my last name. My mom’s last name. Her name was clearly printed on the family trust documents as the “Eldest Daughter.” She looked exactly like my real sister. Sometimes, I’d flip through the photo albums at home and look at pictures of our “family of three.” My mom, Sloane, and me. Sloane stood next to my mom, who had her arm around her shoulder. Both of them were smiling. I stood on the other side, a scowl on my face, looking like an outsider forced into the frame. I stared at that photo for a long time, then smashed the album onto the floor. She wasn’t my sister. She was an intruder, a “perfect product” bought to replace me. I hated her. I hated her gentleness, her patience, her perpetually calm demeanor. I hated her stellar grades, her maturity, her ability to satisfy my mom. I hated how she prepared my coffee and left it on the counter every morning. I hated how she brought me an umbrella when it rained. I hated how she stayed awake all night by my bed when I had a fever. Because all of it made me feel like she pitied me. She was pitying a defective product. She was using her goodness to highlight my badness. Using her perfection to prove my flaws. Later, my bullying escalated. I poured her expensive makeup down the toilet. I tore her meticulously prepared college application essays into shreds and threw them in the trash. I pulled the potted plant she had been growing up by its roots and threw it on the balcony to dry out in the sun. When she came back and saw the dirt and dead leaves all over the floor, she crouched down and picked it up piece by piece. Then she stood up and looked at me. I thought, this time, she has to snap. But she didn’t. She just sighed softly and said, “I took care of that plant for two years. What a shame.” Then she went back to her room to study. She never hit me, never yelled at me, never even raised her voice. She just looked at me with those quiet eyes, as if she could understand anything I did, as if no matter how I acted out, I was just a child throwing a tantrum. That look drove me insane. But I always felt she was faking it. 3. She had to know I was my mom’s biological daughter. She didn’t want to lose my mom as her benefactor, so she tolerated me. All her gentleness, all her patience, all her “goodness.” It was all just a survival strategy for someone living under another’s roof. She wasn’t genuinely good to me; she was flattering me. Because my last name was Sterling by blood, and she was just adopted. That thought gave me a twisted sense of balance. Yes, exactly. The reason she didn’t dare get mad at me was that she was terrified of losing everything she had. The elite school, the luxurious life, the wealthy adoptive mother, the bright future. Once I figured that out, any lingering guilt vanished. I bullied her with absolute peace of mind. Because she brought it upon herself. She chose to stay and play the role of the perfect sister. So she shouldn’t blame me for being merciless. This dynamic lasted for years. From when I was ten to eighteen. From my elementary school days to my high school graduation. From when she was an adopted girl living under our roof to when she got into an Ivy League school. And then, she entered my mom’s corporation, stepping up to take control of the conglomerate. Sloane became more and more formidable. She called the shots at the company, decisive and ruthless, managing thousands of employees. Even the seasoned executives in their forties and fifties respectfully called her “Ms. Sterling.” My mom grew increasingly satisfied with her, increasingly dependent on her. She bragged to everyone, “My daughter Sloane did this, my daughter Sloane did that,” her voice dripping with pride. And me? After barely graduating high school, I went to some third-rate college. In my mom’s eyes, I was completely useless mud that couldn’t be molded. My mom could easily have sent me abroad or pulled strings, but she didn’t even want to waste those “resources” on me. Which proved she had truly given up on me. She didn’t even bother mentioning me anymore. I was air. I was full of resentment. But that was fine. I had my own ways to vent. “She’s here for Ms. Sterling again…” When I walked into the corporate lobby with my hands in my pockets, looking like the world owed me a million bucks, the two receptionists immediately started whispering. Sure, this was how I looked every time I came to see Sloane. Ever since Sloane moved into my house, she had become my mom’s “real daughter.” After all these years, besides me, no one even knew Sloane was adopted. As for my mom… she probably wished she could rip my page out of the family trust just to bring her “precious daughter” closer. The entire conglomerate knew the CEO had a useless younger sister who idled her days away, had no skills, and whose only hobby was harassing her older sister at work. They assumed I came to ask for money. They were wrong. With full clearance, I took the private elevator straight to the top floor. This entire floor belonged to Sloane. It was dead quiet. She was the one in power now, spending her afternoons handling affairs from her office. When I pushed the door open, Sloane was sitting behind her desk, reviewing files. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and a sharply tailored black blazer. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a pale, slender neck. Hearing the door, she looked up at me. I walked straight over, bypassed the massive desk, and stood right in front of her. She leaned back in her chair, looking up at me. The eyes behind the lenses were as calm as water, as if she already knew what was about to happen. I reached out, snatched the glasses off her face, and tossed them on the desk. Then I leaned down, gripped her chin, and kissed her. She didn’t dodge. Or rather, she never dodged. My kiss was vicious, almost vengeful. I bit her lip, my tongue roughly forcing its way past her teeth. She was pushed back by the force of it, her leather chair letting out a soft creak as I took whatever I wanted. I hated this look of hers the most. As if nothing I did could cause even a ripple in her heart. I deepened the kiss, pressing my other hand against the top of her chair, trapping her completely between me and the leather. Her breathing finally hitched for a second, but that was it. When I pulled away, her lips were swollen from my biting, her lipstick smeared. She merely raised a hand, wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and cast her eyes down at the red smudge on her skin. Then she picked up her glasses and slowly put them back on. “Are you done? I need to work.” Her tone was completely flat. Exactly like when we were kids and I hid her notebook, and she’d calmly ask me “Where did you put it?” I stared at her, the anger in my chest unable to find an outlet. Or rather, I’d never been able to find an outlet for it. “No.” After saying that, I lowered my head and sealed her lips again. This time, I was even rougher, practically biting her. One hand gripped the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her pinned-up hair, tearing the hairpins out one by one. Her hair cascaded down, slipping cool and silky through my fingers. She still didn’t push me away. Even when I drew blood from her lip, she only frowned slightly. The taste of copper spread between our mingled breaths. When I tasted it, a twisted sense of gratification surged in my chest. I let her go, stood straight, and looked down at her. Her head was tilted back, her lip broken and bleeding. Her hair was a mess, her glasses sat crookedly on her nose, and I had pulled her blazer wide open at the collar. She looked thoroughly wrecked. Yet beneath that calm gaze, there was only a hint of resignation. She adjusted her messy hair and her collar. “Don’t make such a mess.” She didn’t even care about her bleeding lip. She only cared if her hair was ruined and her collar was buttoned properly. Always so composed. I pinched her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “Sister.” My voice softened, ending with a sickly-sweet lilt. I saw Sloane’s eyelashes flutter. Her expression paused for a split second before she pulled up that gentle smile. “What is it?” I only called her “sister” at moments like this. I knew she was drowning in her role as the “gentle older sister,” so I was more than happy to indulge her. Only in these specific moments, of course. I brushed my thumb over her smeared lipstick. “Getting kissed like this by your own ‘little sister’…” “Aren’t you a bit of a freak?” 4. She didn’t answer. She just turned her head to break my grip. Then she reached up to fix her collar, tucked her stray hair behind her ear, lowered her head, and went back to her documents. “There’s coffee and pastries on the table. Eat it yourself. Be a good girl.” She said it just like that. As if nothing had happened. I let out a cold scoff, threw myself onto the leather sofa, and started eating. She was like this every single time. After so long, I was used to it. I had no idea what went on in Sloane’s head, and I didn’t care to know. Ever since I turned eighteen, she and I had been trapped in this extraordinary, “deformed” relationship. It all started on my eighteenth birthday. They called it a coming-of-age party, but it was really just an excuse. My mom booked a ballroom at a luxury hotel and invited a bunch of her Wall Street friends and business partners. Everyone wore perfectly tailored smiles, offering their congratulations. But I knew they weren’t congratulating me. They were congratulating my mom. Congratulating Sloane on taking on more of the company. Congratulating the Sterling family on having a worthy successor. As for me, I was just a prop for the banquet. I kept a scowl on my face the whole time, holding a glass of champagne in the corner, watching my mom link arms with Sloane as they toasted table after table. “This is my eldest, Sloane. She’s helping me out at the firm now.” When my mom said that, her smile was brighter than any she had ever given me. Sloane stood beside her in a champagne-colored evening gown, her hair swept up in an elegant updo, wearing simple pearl earrings. She looked dignified and poised. Halfway through the banquet, I ditched the party and went to hang out with my own crowd. They weren’t really friends—just a bunch of rich kids like me with too much money and zero ambition, gathering to drink and waste away. When I arrived, they were already a round deep. Seeing me, they cheered and made me take three penalty shots. I didn’t say a word and downed three glasses of whiskey back-to-back. The hard liquor burned its way down my throat, making my stomach churn, but the burn felt good. I was annoyed. Not just because my mom treated me like nothing, but because of Sloane. “Riley, did you and Skylar break up?” My friend Liam leaned in. I glanced at him and sighed. “She’s going to study abroad. We ended it on good terms.” Liam looked stunned. “Huh? Just like that? You could go with her.” “She didn’t ask me to,” I shrugged. “Besides, my mom can’t even be bothered to look at me right now, let alone send me abroad. She’d just think I was wasting her money.” Liam went quiet. He probably couldn’t understand my mom’s parenting style. “How… how long were you guys even dating?” He quickly changed the subject to cut the awkwardness. “Three days.” “…….” Conversation over. I ended up being carried to the car by my friends. When I got out, I pushed the front door open, didn’t even take off my shoes, and stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. The main lights were off; only a dim yellow nightlight glowed in the entryway. I lay there with my eyes closed. My head was spinning, and my stomach kept rolling. Then I heard footsteps. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. For years, it was only ever her and me in this massive house. The footsteps got closer and stopped by the couch. I felt someone crouch down in front of me. “Riley.” “Why did you drink so much?” I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t speak. I felt her stand up and leave, returning a moment later. Then, something cold pressed against my forehead. A towel. An ice-cold towel. She supported the back of my head with one hand and used the other to carefully wipe my forehead, cheeks, and jaw. “How much did you have? Does your stomach hurt? Want me to make you some hangover soup?” Her voice was laced with the perfect amount of concern. Exactly what a perfect older sister would sound like. But was she? She wasn’t. She was just too good at acting. She had played the role for nearly ten years; she probably believed it herself by now. Who did she think she was? Did she think putting on this act would make me grateful? Make me call her “sister”? “Don’t touch me.” I smacked the towel out of her hand. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. I opened my eyes and saw her crouching by the couch, one hand still hovering in the air, maintaining the exact posture from when she was holding the towel. “Riley, you’re drunk. Let me help you to your room, okay?” She reached out, trying to help me up. At that exact second, the tight string in my brain snapped. “Cut the act!” I grabbed her wrist and yanked it hard. Caught off guard, she lost her balance and fell forward onto me. Sloane crashed onto my body, her hands bracing against the back of the sofa on either side of my head just in time to stop herself from crushing me. Her face hovered right above mine. Inches away. I saw her freeze. For a split second, that mask of hers cracked with shock. I stared at her. Stared at that perpetually calm, gentle face. At those eternally unbothered eyes. Whenever I was a mess, Sloane was always there, like she could accurately smell my impending emotional breakdowns and deliberately lean into the blast zone. Every word she said, every action she took, challenged my limits. I had tried so many ways to make her stay away from me, but she was completely unfazed. And now, looking at her face. 5. A crazy, impulsive thought exploded in my mind. I tipped my head up and kissed her. It was rough, totally devoid of skill, driven by a vengeful sort of malice. I waited. Waited for her to shove me away, to yell at me, to hit me. Waited for her to finally “snap.” But she didn’t move. Her lips pressed against mine—warm, soft, and trembling slightly. But she didn’t push me away. I opened my eyes. She was still in the same position, hovering over me, her eyes half-closed, eyelashes fluttering. Her breathing had grown erratic. Warm breath washed over my face, carrying a barely detectable tremor. She didn’t push me away. She even closed her eyes. The living room was dim, but I could still see the change in her face. A thin flush crept across her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears, looking incredibly vivid under the glow of the nightlight. I was completely stunned. I knew Sloane indulged me. She never said no to me. But I never expected she would allow me to do this. And then, I smiled. In that moment, I felt an unprecedented rush of pleasure. The thrill of dominating her. The forever untouchable, perfectly composed Sloane. She was finally no longer that flawless “sister.” I had finally dragged her down into the mud. From that day on, this twisted game between us began. I would seek her out after drinking, crash into her office when I was in a foul mood, and push her bedroom door open in the dead of night. She never refused. Just like my “pranks” when we were kids. Whatever I did, she silently accepted. Oddly enough, since we started doing this, my hatred for seeing her lessened. Maybe it was just habit after all these years. But more likely, it was because I had finally found a sense of equilibrium within my own bitter resentment. And the key to maintaining that balance… Was this sick, intimate contact between us. I leaned back on her office sofa, ate half a plate of pastries, and drank two cups of black tea. The couch was soft, the sunlight was warm, and after eating my fill, I started feeling sleepy. I was too lazy to leave, so I just slouched down, closed my eyes, and planned to take a nap. It wasn’t like I had a job, meetings, or networking to do. My entire existence consisted of vast amounts of time I could just waste. If I ran out of money, I just asked Sloane. She was never stingy; she gave me whatever I asked for. From Sloane’s desk came the rustle of papers, occasionally punctuated by her talking on the phone. She spoke quickly, her logic razor-sharp, sounding like a completely different person from the one who talked to me. Listening to it, I drifted off. Half asleep, I heard a knock at the door. Sloane said, “Come in.” I didn’t bother opening my eyes, just rolled over and buried my face in a throw pillow. The door opened. Someone walked in. “Sloane.” A clear, masculine voice rang out, carrying just the right amount of familiarity. Sloane paused. “Parker. Can I help you with something?” “Don’t be a stranger, just call me Parker,” the man laughed. “I came specifically to see you today. Didn’t your mom mention it?” I squinted, peering through the gap in my arms. A young man stood in front of Sloane’s desk. He looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a sharply tailored dark grey suit, handsome and clean-cut. He looked exactly like a successful corporate elite. He was holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in dark green paper. It looked expensive. Sloane glanced at the flowers but didn’t reach for them. “Parker, if there’s something you need, just say it.” “Why the rush? Your mom said you were free this afternoon, so I thought I’d wait for you to get off work and grab dinner. I know a great omakase place you’d love.” I froze. Who the hell was this? My drowsiness vanished instantly. I sat straight up on the sofa. The movement was loud. The man heard it, turned around, and clearly froze when he saw me. He evidently hadn’t expected someone else to be in Sloane’s office, let alone someone slouched on the couch with their shoes on, looking like they just woke up from a bender. His gaze lingered on me for a second before he smiled politely, turning back to Sloane with a questioning look. Sloane looked at me. “This is my sister, Riley,” she said. “Sister?” Parker obviously didn’t know Sloane had a sister. His expression slipped for a second, but he quickly recovered and nodded at me. “Nice to meet you, Riley. I’m Parker.” I ignored him. I leaned back on the couch, crossed my arms, and shifted my gaze from his face to Sloane’s, then back again. Sloane had no intention of elaborating. She lowered her eyes and went back to the file in front of her. “Parker, I’m busy tonight. Let’s take a raincheck.” “What could be so urgent? Your mom said you didn’t have any other plans,” Parker said with a smile, a hint of persistence in his voice. “It’s just dinner. It won’t take up too much of your time.” As he spoke, his eyes briefly flicked toward me. He was probably wondering why the “third wheel” wasn’t leaving. 6. I stared at him, then suddenly laughed. “Hey, sis,” I spoke up, my voice not loud, but clear in the quiet office. “Who’s this guy?” Parker’s brow furrowed slightly. My tone wasn’t exactly friendly. Sloane looked up at me. “Riley,” Parker spoke first. “Sloane and I have known each other for a bit. Your mother introduced us.” My mother introduced them. My mom was setting Sloane up with men? I turned my head and glared at Sloane. “Sloane,” Parker tried again. “Are you really not free tonight? It’s just dinner. I already made the reservation.” I didn’t wait for Sloane to answer. “She’s not free tonight.” Parker looked at me, a flash of genuine displeasure finally crossing his eyes. Sloane also looked at me. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything. I tilted my head, studying Parker. “She has plans with me tonight.” “Some other time, then.” He took a step back, walking to the door, then glanced back at Sloane. “I’ll get going. I’ll leave the flowers here. If you like them, I’ll bring more next time.” The door clicked shut. The office fell silent. I stared at that bouquet of Lisianthus. The white petals were pristine and beautiful. Sloane kept reading her files, completely unbothered. Like nothing had happened. I grabbed the bouquet, walked straight over to the trash can, and shoved it in. The flowers hit the bin with a dull thud. A few petals broke off and scattered on the floor. “Have the cleaning staff clear that out later.” Sloane looked up, glancing at the fallen petals, her tone perfectly flat. From start to finish, she remained entirely unfazed. But I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “He’s decent looking. Rich family, I assume? Or Mom wouldn’t have given him the time of day.” “Riley, Mom just wanted me to network with him. It doesn’t mean anything.” Sloane’s tone was so soft. Whenever she spoke to me, there was always that underlying tone of “coaxing.” Like I was just a petulant child throwing a tantrum. I hated that attitude. “Doesn’t mean anything? Bringing you flowers, taking you to dinner?” For some reason, an indescribable emotion surged in my chest. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I frowned, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Sloane, we both know what Mom is scheming. When did you meet him? How many times have you seen him? Have you slept at his place?” Sloane put down her pen. Her eyes, magnified slightly by the gold-rimmed glasses, looked at me directly. “Riley, I’ve only met him once at a gala. We haven’t met privately, and I definitely haven’t slept at his place.” She sighed, a helpless but gentle smile curving her lips. “If I tell you that, will you stop being mad?” Hearing her say that, the knot of anger in my chest loosened a bit. But her almost overindulgent, doting tone made me inexplicably irritated again. “Don’t get it twisted, Sloane. Nothing you say matters to me. You’re just a toy.” Sloane smiled, saying nothing. After Parker showed up, everything changed. No, to be exact, I changed. I couldn’t say why. Sloane was supposed to be nothing to me. Just a “toy” I could bully and vent on. If she had suitors, if guys brought her flowers, if guys took her out—what did it matter to me? But I couldn’t control myself. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind filled with the image of Parker standing at her desk. And those damn white flowers. White petals, so pristine. Sloane seemed to like white. I rolled over, pulled the blanket over my head, and squeezed my eyes shut. But when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Sloane looking up at him. Did she smile at him? I couldn’t remember. But I assumed she did. In my eyes, her smile was worthless. But who the fuck was Parker? What gave him the right? The next afternoon, I showed up at the lobby of Sterling Global again. The two receptionists exchanged a look. “Good afternoon, Ms. Riley.” I ignored them and walked straight to the elevators. As the doors closed, I looked at my reflection in the mirrored walls. My brow was deeply furrowed, dark circles under my eyes from staying up all night. My whole face practically screamed “don’t mess with me.” No wonder the receptionists always looked terrified. Even I thought I looked like a psychopath about to snap. What was I doing? I wasn’t here to catch a cheating spouse. When I pushed open Sloane’s office door, she was on the phone. Hearing the door, she looked up, her lips curving into a small smile. She told the person on the line to hold, covered the receiver, and whispered, “There’s snacks on the table. Sit for a second.” That tone again. Coaxing a toddler. I sat on the couch, crossed my arms, and stared at her while she talked. She was wearing a white silk blouse today, the collar slightly open, revealing her collarbone. Her hair wasn’t pinned up; it fell loosely over her shoulders, the ends curled and soft. I stared at her for a long time until she hung up the phone and met my gaze. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

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  • The Handsome Man I Met Through My Brother Turned Out to Be My Future

    My mom told me to go drop something off for my brother’s girlfriend. I pushed the door open and walked in. Only to see a gorgeous man, half-naked, with a tight, chiseled six-pack. I didn’t understand, but I fully supported it. I stammered, tears welling in my eyes, “H-hello, sister-in-law!” My brother’s ghostly voice sounded from behind me: “Very polite, but your sister-in-law is in the back.” Me: ??? 01 What a massive misunderstanding! I violently spun around to face the beautiful features of my brother’s actual girlfriend. In an instant, my face turned beet red. I was so embarrassed I wanted to find a crack in the floor and dive right in. My brother grabbed me by the collar, his voice gritting through his teeth right next to my ear, “Evelyn, what the hell goes on in that brain of yours every day?” Then, he bent down, picked up a white T-shirt from the sofa, and threw it at the man without a second thought. “Put a shirt on, my girlfriend is staring.” A pang of sorrow hit my heart. I don’t know if my future sister-in-law was staring, but I definitely was. Mainly because I hadn’t looked long enough! The man let out a breathless chuckle. He casually pulled the shirt over his head. The cool droplets of water flicked from his wet hair accidentally landed on the back of my hand. “Why are you back so early?” My brother shot him a cold glare. “My mom called and said my sister was coming over. I was worried her wild imagination would convince her that a home invasion or something was happening, so I came back to make sure she was safe.” He then abruptly changed his tune: “I just didn’t expect—she’d imagine a male sister-in-law for herself.” The end of his sentence was dripping with absolute annoyance. I was being publicly executed and didn’t dare say a word in my own defense. The man, however, seemed highly amused, narrowing his eyes to look my brother up and down: “Alex, with your looks, even if my sexual orientation was mistaken, I wouldn’t waste my time on you.” “Relax.” 02 Clearly, this was how they normally interacted. And I had actually heard of this handsome guy’s name long ago. He was my brother’s best friend from college—Liam Reynolds. After graduating, my brother honorably became a corporate drone, while Liam, thanks to his outstanding performance over four years, successfully secured a spot in a graduate program at the top-ranked university in my area—State University. Originally, Liam had come to my brother to ask for help looking at apartments. Who would have thought that while passing by a coffee shop, a delicate girl would “accidentally” twist her ankle and bump right into Liam’s chest, spilling her coffee all over his jacket? The girl looked deeply apologetic: “I’m so sorry I ruined your jacket. Let’s exchange numbers, and I’ll compensate you, okay?” It was obvious she had ulterior motives. However, Liam, acting as the ultimate heartbreaker, expressionlessly pulled up his Venmo QR code: “That’ll be seven thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven dollars.” The girl’s face lost its color, her voice full of disbelief: “Are you robbing me for one jacket?” Liam simply pulled up his purchase receipt. After carefully verifying the amount, the girl played dumb and fled without looking back. My brother vividly recreated the scene for me, looking incredibly smug. “This guy is a neat freak. Since the coffee got on his clothes, and my rented place was nearby, I brought him up to take a shower. I even generously sacrificed my own clothes for him.” I shook my head and sighed, “That was close. He almost got a girlfriend.” It’s true what they say: when God opens a door for a handsome guy, he shuts a window. Clearly, the compensation was fake, and hitting on him was the real goal. My brother acted all deep, “You don’t get it. This guy has experienced scenes like this countless times during his four years of college.” “When school started, out of a whole closet full of clothes, there weren’t many left at the end of the semester that hadn’t been ‘accidentally’ spilled on.” That makes sense. There are many ways to pursue someone, but damaging their property is definitely the most unwise. I totally agreed and muttered under my breath, “That way of hitting on someone is so cliché. If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t do that.” However, this lighthearted joke fell into Liam’s ears. A subtle light flashed in his eyes, and his calm voice sounded from above my head: “So, how do you pursue people?” “I…” I was instantly speechless. I looked up and met his pitch-black pupils. His searching gaze held a hint of seriousness. Looking at this 360-degree flawless, handsome face right in front of me. My heartbeat suddenly— Skipped a beat. 03 The apartment Liam rented was right upstairs from my brother’s. The distance from the university campus and my house was only three miles. Although it was very close, whether at school or near my home, the number of times I “accidentally” ran into Liam was exactly zero. At the beginning of the new semester, everyone was busy with school stuff. This included the fact that I failed Calculus last semester, and then failed the makeup exam at the start of this semester. For a moment, I didn’t know whether to doubt my brain or my luck. Seeing me crying my eyes out, my roommate, Chloe, wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. To help me adjust my mood and get over the trauma of failing twice, Chloe took me to a party organized by her friends. They were all friends she had made in the college town. People the same age always have more to talk about, and everyone was having a great time. Except me. After four rounds of games, I had drank for three of them. Realizing my alcohol tolerance was reaching its limit, I wisely raised a white flag and chose the “Truth or Dare” penalty. A senior guy casually pointed to a dark figure in the far corner of a table. “Go ask that handsome guy if he wants to make out.” Absolutely wild. The atmosphere instantly heated to the extreme. I looked in the direction he pointed. The dim lights flickered, smoke swirled, and through the shifting silhouettes, I couldn’t clearly see the handsome guy’s face. But I could faintly deduce from his broad shoulders and the long, elegant fingers holding the glass— He had an extraordinary aura. Countless expectant gazes landed on me. I was nervous, even a little desperate, but I didn’t want to be a poor sport. It wasn’t like we were actually going to do it anyway. I steeled my resolve and stood up. To prevent showing any fear and killing the mood, I deliberately straightened my posture and marched over. The glass cabinets reflected my image, looking righteous and marching like a soldier. Until I walked right up beside him, closed my eyes, and mustered all my courage: “Hi handsome, wanna make out?” I was afraid of his answer, so my mouth moved at double speed, “No? Okay, never mind.” After saying that, I turned to leave. But right at that moment, a drunk person passing by stumbled and bumped hard into my back. I lost my balance. My whole body pitched forward, weightless. In a complete accident, I landed squarely on the man’s lap. In my panic, I looked up and met an incredibly striking yet very familiar face. My red lips brushed against his cheek, leaving a soft, ambiguous mark. The dim lights made his gaze towards me obscure. We were so close our warm breaths mingled. My heartbeat suddenly lost its rhythm. It wasn’t until a large, warm hand steadied my lower back that I finally snapped back to reality. My heart plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, my face ashen, ready to bid farewell to this beautiful world. I was doomed. I took the joke too far. I had harassed my brother’s best friend. 04 Every single hair on my body stood on end with stiffness. I was so embarrassed I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. But Liam didn’t seem to plan on giving me the chance to play dead. “Evelyn, who exactly did you want to kiss?” That casual sentence woke me up like a bucket of cold water. I bounced up like a spring, pressing my hands together in prayer. “Good brother, I just lost a game of dare. Please don’t tell my brother, okay?” His gaze swept over me. His deep, cold expression looked like he was thinking, but when he opened his mouth, his answer had nothing to do with my question. “You shouldn’t go around calling people ‘brother’.” “Understand?” In the dim environment, his deep voice seemed coated with a hint of seductive provocation. I inexplicably felt the air around me thin out. My heart was beating a little erratically. I nodded blankly, but when I spoke, I still sounded dazed and silly, “But brother, you have to…” Halfway through my sentence, I realized something was wrong and quickly retracted it. He turned his head away and crushed the half-burnt cigarette between his fingers. It made it impossible for me to see his obscure gaze clearly. But I heard a very faint chuckle from him. Probably because the alcohol was starting to eat away at my brain, my head felt even dizzier. “You’ve been drinking,” Liam stated flatly. But it wasn’t a question. To prevent him from telling my brother about my drunken embarrassment, I said stubbornly, “Just a little bit, but it’s nothing.” He didn’t seem to understand the subtext of my words. “Sit for a while. Your brother is coming over soon. You can have him take you back to school, or go home with him, either is fine.” “My brother?” That little bit of dizziness and unknown fluttering in my heart vanished instantly. I even suspected Liam was intimidating me. Threatening me. When he saw my brother, he was going to snitch on me hardcore. Saying I acted terribly when drunk. Saying I harassed him. My voice trembled slightly, “My brother can’t know I’m here. Before he gets here, I have to leave.” I was in such a rush that I bumped my calf hard against the corner of the table in my panic. My wrist was gently grasped by his palm. Warmth spread layer by layer. His voice seemed deep and comforting, “Don’t panic.” But the end of his sentence carried a hint of amusement, like he was watching a good show. “Little sister, it seems you’re a bit too late to run.” At the same time, a ghostly voice sounded from behind me. With a bit of gritted teeth: “Evelyn, you’ve really got some nerve. I can bump into you anywhere now?” Ugh— My life is over. 05 I think I’m sick. Ever since that night, Liam’s ambiguous smirk, his dark, shifting gaze, and the feeling of my lips brushing his cheek… there was too much. Like a spam pop-up ad constantly appearing in my mind, impossible to get rid of. At the same time, it was accompanied by a strange current zipping through my chest. An absurd and bold thought emerged: Could I be harboring inappropriate intentions toward my brother’s best friend? This realization made my face lose all its color once again. It wasn’t until my roommate Chloe excitedly grabbed my arm that I finally snapped back to reality. “Babe! They’re done!” “Did you see the guy in the blue jersey, number 9, in the crowd? That’s my crush! Isn’t he ridiculously handsome?” Saying that, she sighed, “It’s a pity I didn’t get to see him playing basketball. He must have looked incredibly attractive.” Today was the State University departmental basketball league. Chloe had gotten a guest pass early on, put on flawless makeup, and dragged me along to cheer for her crush. But because our Calculus professor suddenly rescheduled class, we missed the game. By the time we rushed over, the basketball game was almost over. Chloe happily pulled out her phone, the camera swaying as she aimed it at her crush’s face, but right as she pressed the shutter, she captured another figure. She gasped, “Liam Reynolds!” My teenage heart fluttered with a mix of emotions. All my absent-mindedness was instantly replaced by an inexplicable nervous energy. “Wh-what?” Chloe didn’t notice my strange reaction and excitedly handed her phone to me. In the photo, the man’s bangs were slightly messy, his facial bone structure was incredibly superior, his tall figure and clean, sharp muscle lines were visible under the white jersey. The setting sun cast a glow over him, making him look inexplicably radiant. My heart beat wildly. Beside my ear, Chloe was still excitedly educating me: “Don’t tell me you don’t know who he is? He’s practically the campus heartthrob at State University. The most handsome grad student. It’s just that he’s very aloof. Rumor has it the number of girls he’s rejected could circle the track three times. He’s an existence you can only admire from afar…” “Oh, I’m not talking to you anymore. My crush saw me! I’m going to bring him some water~” The power of love. The same girl who almost dies running the 100-meter dash in PE class… in the blink of an eye, she was already squeezing into the crowded field. She didn’t even bother to take her phone. My gaze fell back onto the phone screen. Just as the phone was about to go to sleep, my finger tapped the screen, accidentally zooming in on the picture. Those eyes, which looked deeply affectionate even when looking at a dog, almost filled the entire screen. It felt like he was looking right at me. The next second, those very eyes actually appeared right in front of me. “Secretly taking pictures of me?” I spun around in a panic, my hand trembling, and Chloe’s phone went flying through the air. Seeing it was about to go into freefall. I made a desperate grab for it. But the phone landed steadily in that man’s long, elegant hand. And I— Grabbed his strong, pulsing wrist. His palm was slightly warm. He tilted his head down, his eyelids slightly lowered. I don’t know if it was an illusion, but he seemed to smile. “Evelyn, are you trying to destroy the evidence?” The curve of his lips made my head spin. “No.” Chloe’s phone was the newest iPhone, worth over a thousand dollars. I breathed a sigh of relief, “How could I bear to?” But the moment the words left my mouth, I realized something was wrong again. I bit my lip. “I wasn’t secretly taking pictures of you.” “Oh.” His tone was flat, “I thought you were going to deny everything after we created a scandal.” Is there any possibility that I am a living person, not a corpse? What I feared most was the person involved coming to interrogate me. I braced myself, and under his burning gaze, I earnestly explained: “I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t see that it was you.” “Oh.” He sounded indifferent. “I thought you were going to refuse to take responsibility after we caused a scene.” Is there any chance I’m alive and not dead? What I dreaded the most was the person involved coming to confront me. I braced myself and quickly stated my position. “I will take responsibility, but I don’t know how to make it up to you.” After all, the whole school is talking about it now. I felt a bit frustrated. “I’m sorry, I ruined your reputation…” I sighed dramatically as I said it. But looking up, I met his slightly surprised eyes. However, it was only for a moment before a spark danced in them. “Reputation? Ruined?” He enunciated the words slowly, repeating it once. What was a simple sentence from me suddenly seemed to hold countless deeper meanings. I bit my tongue, ready to argue, but the man looked at me seriously, looking as if the situation was grave: “It seems you really have to find a way to take responsibility for me.” 09 I looked up. In disbelief. Could such a good thing really happen? Twisting my fingers together, I felt a glimmer of anticipation. “How should I take responsibility?” But he didn’t respond to me. He just lowered his head and casually scrolled through his phone. It was as if the sentence that had me imagining things was just a casual remark from him. Probably just words spoken in the heat of the moment. Pushing down my disappointment, I was just about to try and save face. The next second, my phone buzzed. Immediately after, Liam calmly held his phone in front of me. On the lit screen, there was a brand new friend request. [I am Liam Reynolds.] “First, you have to accept the friend request.” Whether it was at the bar, in the public lecture, or accidentally rejecting his friend request, ultimately, I had acted recklessly. Thinking about it, as the first step of compensation, “Can I buy you a coffee?” He raised an eyebrow, almost without hesitation, “Sure.” While waiting for the coffee, I was genuinely curious. I tapped into his WeChat profile picture. His Moments feed was very clean, mostly reposted academic articles. The only photo related to life was one someone else had taken of him. It was a very casual angle, not posed at all, yet still so handsome it was hard to look away. Unlike me, whose massive Moments feed was always endless, documenting everything from birthday parties to my dog chewing up my slippers. I repeatedly zoomed in on that photo. Drooling. However, when I went to exit, my finger slipped, and I hit ‘like’! Help— Before I could undo it: “Evelyn.” He called my name softly. It was the most plain, deep tone, yet I always felt it sounded so good. Like a low chant. I clenched my fingers, feeling a bit shy, playing dumb: “What’s wrong?” Looking at someone else’s Moments isn’t a crime. He smirked, “I’m sitting right in front of you.” “Huh?” I think the way I slightly opened my mouth, not understanding why, must have looked incredibly stupid. That’s why he smiled so amiably. “If you want to look at me, just look up. Why take the roundabout route and look at my Moments?” “Or—” He paused slightly, “You want to get to know me?” Everything fell silent, with only the sound of my heart pounding. The one who falls first always loses their composure easily. In front of him, my novice status was too obvious. I didn’t know if he had seen through my teenage crush. But I always felt his smile held a deeper meaning. What did he mean by asking that? What did he mean exactly?! I tried to argue: “I… I was just thinking…” He was extremely patient: “Thinking what?” Thinking— Thinking about getting you. 10 I heard the sound of my own surrender. I gave up struggling. If I like him, I like him. If I like him, I should fight for him. Why should I force myself to give up? So what if he’s my brother’s best friend? If someone like my brother can be his best friend, why can’t someone like me be his girlfriend? So what if he’s out of my league? I want to try and see. After cheering myself up, I decided on a one-word strategy: Chase! Before I could even rack my brains to figure out where to start, my brother, with his loose lips, completely exposed the fact that I failed Calculus last semester while we were eating. My dignity, boo hoo hoo── So, my mom furiously kicked me and my books out of the house. Also caught in the crossfire was the fat dog who was happily eating. I rescued him during my freshman year. Before my brother could even enjoy the show, he received an order from our mom: “Make sure she gets some serious Calculus tutoring!” My brother looked shocked: ??? Wait, me? Tutor her? I was incredulous: ??? Wait, him? The dog… The dog, not understanding why, wagged his tail furiously, only wondering why his food bowl got thrown out too. Although I hated my brother for playing dirty, I also found it funny. That idiot tried to be clever and ended up shooting himself in the foot. But if I really relied on him to tutor me in Calculus, I’d probably fail again next year. However, that bit of disgust towards my brother was quickly shattered by some sweet thoughts. The moment I thought about Liam, who lived just one floor above my brother, I couldn’t help but let out a smug, villainous chuckle. How could this be considered a pathetic eviction? This is a heaven-sent opportunity! Liam lives right above my brother. The rabbit loves the grass near its burrow, the early bird gets the worm—perfect timing, perfect location, perfect people. My plan to win him over starts now! Liam has a habit of going for morning runs. So, the first step in chasing my future husband: accidentally “run into” him. Imagine the soft morning light, the spring breeze brushing our faces. After our run, we admire the beautiful morning scenery together. Romance and chemistry slowly heating up… It! Simply! Couldn’t! Be! Better! However, the ideal is plump, but reality is bone-thin. I had already run three laps around the apartment complex, and I hadn’t even seen Liam’s shadow. Starving, my body, unused to exercise, was truly running out of energy. Just as I was about to give up, a familiar, tall figure gradually became clear in the halo of light not far away. He was wearing a simple black athleisure outfit, his messy bangs falling casually over his forehead, radiating youthful energy. I stood on my tiptoes and waved, putting on an act with zero preparation, “What a coincidence, Liam.” I jogged towards him. But because I had run two miles without eating breakfast, my low blood sugar kicked in. In the moment my vision went black, I thought to myself, this is bad. However, the imagined scene of embracing the cold, hard ground didn’t happen. I fell into an embrace carrying a fresh, clean soap scent. Those hands gentlemanly held my shoulders. “Evelyn, is this your low blood sugar acting up? Let me take you to get some breakfast.” I originally wanted to say no need, I have a habit of carrying candy with me. But before the words could leave my mouth, in my gradually clearing vision, Liam’s incredibly handsome face up close also became clear. I swallowed hard, a greedy thought flashing through my mind. My hand, which was in my pocket holding the candy, let go. Let me just forget the fact that I can split a durian with my bare hands. The world still needs some delicate, helpless little white lotuses. I silently leaned a bit closer to him. My eyelashes fluttered, and I pinched my voice into a sweet, syrupy tone, “Thank you~ Liam.” But he looked panicked, “Is your low blood sugar this severe? You don’t even have the strength to speak. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Me: …

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  • The System’s Loophole: Raising the Billion-Dollar Heiress

    The System ordered me to adopt the true billionaire heiress. Its instructions were clear: scold her and bully her every single day to forge her into someone with an unbreakable, iron-willed personality. Once she was finally claimed by her ridiculously wealthy family, I would be rewarded with a massive payout. I nodded viciously. “That’s easy. I absolutely hate kids!” Sixteen years later, her biological family and I finally crossed paths at the gates of her high school. I was standing there in a pair of cheap flip-flops, holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. Her parents had pulled up in a fleet of luxury SUVs, their arms full of sixteen extravagant gifts—one to make up for every birthday they’d missed. The wealthy matriarch looked me up and down with poorly disguised disgust. “It must have been so hard for you all these years.” The fake heiress leaned against her mother, looking like a frightened little deer. “Sister, please don’t make them send me away.” The true heiress shot them a look like they were aliens. Then, she sprinted straight past them, beelined for me, and snatched one of the hot dogs right out of my hand. “Mom! I told you to stop eating this junk!” 1 When I found the true heiress by a dumpster in a back alley, she was barely a month old. She was painfully frail. Even her cries were as weak as a dying kitten’s. But the moment I picked her up, she stopped crying. Those big, round eyes stared up at me, suddenly curving into happy little crescents. I furrowed my brows and let out a cold scoff. “Don’t think you can bewitch me with that look.” “I’m only keeping you for the money.” The System chimed in: […Then why are you gently pinching her cheeks?] I quickly yanked my hand back. Damn it, I was bewitched! I quickly regained my senses. Sticking to my villainous parenting principles, I went to the pharmacy and bought the absolute cheapest baby formula on the shelf. But she didn’t seem to like it. Her little nose wrinkled, and her eyes filled with grievance. I sneered relentlessly. “You’re awfully picky. Drink it or starve.” Instead of crying, she babbled softly, reaching out her tiny hand to wrap around my index finger and giving it a gentle shake. Early the next morning, I picked up three extra shifts at the diner. That night, I bought the premium, organic formula that actually tasted good. The System: […Is this part of the evil plan?] I snapped back out of sheer embarrassment: “If she doesn’t drink the good stuff, she won’t grow! And if she doesn’t grow, how am I supposed to trade her for the cash?!” That night, she was exceptionally quiet in her crib. I tossed and turned, getting up every single minute to check if she was still breathing. I even frantically Googled: “Is it normal for babies not to cry?” By the sixth time I leaned over the crib, I finally woke her up. The System: […What exactly are you doing?] I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to cover my tracks: “I was just making sure she wasn’t dead…” When the little squirt grew into a healthy three-year-old, I finally had the chance to unleash my wicked nature. I pinched her chubby little cheeks and whispered like a demon: “Starting today…” “You will tie your own shoelaces!” The System: [?] 2 Maybe it was just good genetics, but the true heiress was incredibly smart. She quickly learned to tie her own shoes, put herself to bed, feed herself, and even wash her own little socks in the sink. The System asked numbly: [What kind of abuse is this supposed to be?] “You don’t get it.” I chuckled evilly. My master plan was only just beginning. “Next, I’m going to make her learn how to mop the floors, cook the meals, and do all the dirty, exhausting chores.” “I’m going to turn her into my personal Cinderella.” The System finally agreed: [Ah, now that is the right direction.] What I didn’t expect was for her to be so unbelievably obedient. She did exactly whatever I told her to do. But as her strict, cruel mother, I couldn’t allow a single mistake. So, when she accidentally knocked over the mop bucket, I put my hands on my hips and scolded her ruthlessly. “You’re so clumsy! Your real, rich parents are going to hate you when they see this!” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she ran into her room crying. I panicked, hurrying over to press my ear against her door. The crying inside grew quieter, and my anxiety skyrocketed. “Oh no, what do I do? Did she pass out from crying too hard?” The System: [Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?] I paced back and forth, nodding to myself: “You’re right. I’ll give it five more minutes…” The System: [That’s more like it…] “Four minutes… three minutes… one minute. Forget it, I’m going in!” Before I even finished my sentence, I shoved the door open. When I rushed in, she was sitting at her little desk, drawing. I scooped her up into my arms, keeping my face stern as I tried to explain myself: “I was just talking nonsense earlier. You’re so cute, your parents would never hate you.” But she just handed the drawing to me. “Mommy.” It was a drawing of a big stick figure holding hands with a little stick figure. She rested her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want Mommy.” I fell silent. She reached up and patted my cheek. “Mommy, don’t cry.” I turned my head away. “I’m not crying.” 3 I realized that scolding her was completely useless. It only ended up making me cry every single time. So, I changed my tactics. I bought a stack of flashcards and aggressively forced her to learn how to read. The System: [And what is this supposed to accomplish?] I was brimming with confidence: “You wouldn’t understand. I’m going to crush her spirit with academic pressure.” On the first day, I taught her the words “You, Me, Him.” On the second day, I taught her “Love, Hate, Like, Dislike.” On the third day, she put it all together. Like a little chirping bird, she chased me around the apartment yelling, “I love Mommy! I love Mommy!” I blushed furiously and threw the flashcards on the floor. Damn it, it didn’t work at all! Right before she started elementary school, I needed to officially get her birth certificate and Social Security card sorted out. That was when I realized I hadn’t even given her a real name yet. I had just been calling her “kiddo.” The System: [This is a crucial plot point.] [You need to give her a name she will never forget, something that brings her pain and struggle.] [I suggest naming her something truly unfortunate. Something that constantly reminds her she’s a burden, like ‘Misery’ or ‘Sorrow’.] “A burden…” I thought about it all night. The next day, I confidently filled out the legal paperwork and bragged to the System about my success. “I took your advice. I gave her a name that will truly torment her.” The System: [Oh? Did you finally figure it out?] I slapped the birth certificate down in front of her. “From now on, your name is Dawn Miller!” The System: [?] I laughed triumphantly. “The kid absolutely hates waking up early, so I named her Dawn! Won’t she be furious having to hear that every day?” The System: […] The next second, Dawn threw her arms around my leg, looking up at me with absolute adoration. “Mommy, thank you for letting me have your last name!” Huh? This wasn’t going according to plan. 4 Once she started school, I gave her strict orders that she must study hard. Dawn obediently agreed, and her personality grew much more mature. She no longer ran around screaming “I love Mommy” all day. Instead, the moment she got home, she did the chores, finished her homework, and even made the bed for me before going to sleep. I boasted to the System: “Look! We’re finally growing estranged!” “This proves my evil parenting plan is progressing perfectly!” Yet, I couldn’t resist secretly creeping into her room at night just to make sure she was okay. The next day after school, she walked up to me holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. I glared at her fiercely. “Where did you get the money for those?!” Dawn looked up, blinking innocently. “Didn’t you secretly slip five dollars into my backpack, Mom?” “…I dropped that in there by accident!” Dawn smirked. “Then you were also ‘accidental’ the day before yesterday, and last week, and last month…” I quickly cut her off, snatching the hot dogs away. “Stop talking! This is junk food! Who said you could eat this?!” Under her pitiful, longing gaze, I devoured both hot dogs in three bites. Two hours after we got home, I walked into her room carrying a plate of premium, organic sausages I had cooked myself. “Look at this! This is what you call healthy!” Dawn didn’t say a word, but her eyes sparkled as she ate the plate clean. The System: [And what exactly is this?] I walked away fully satisfied. “What do you know? I was just making her act as my royal poison tester.” 5 Dawn was a genius. She practically got straight A’s on every test. Finally, during her third-grade finals, she only scored a 98 on her English exam. I seized the opportunity, keeping my face dead serious. “How could you be so careless? Why did you lose those two points?!” Dawn lowered her head, admitting her mistake, and silently walked into her room. The System: [Yes! This is great! You’re finally…] Before it could even finish, I was already staring at Dawn’s retreating back, silently shedding tears. “Oh God, what have I done!” The System: […You literally didn’t even do anything.] A few minutes later, Dawn came into the kitchen to start cooking and found me squatting in the corner, crying. I immediately jumped up and aggressively wiped my face. Dawn looked at my red-rimmed eyes. “Mom, are you crying again?” “I’m not crying! The smoke from the stove got in my eyes!” Dawn sighed. “Mom, I promise I’ll get a 100 next time.” I shot back: “What do you know?!” “I know.” Dawn leaned against my shoulder, gently patting my back. “I know that Mom loves me very much.” I stiffened, secretly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The System: […Aren’t you supposed to be teaching her a harsh lesson?] Me: “Shut up! This is called playing the long game! Once she fully trusts me, then I’ll hurt her deeply!” But I waited a long, long time, and that opportunity never came. Instead, what came was Dawn running home from school in tears. I hadn’t seen Dawn cry in a very, very long time. The moment she walked through the door, she slumped over the table. I paced around her anxiously, practically begging her to tell me what was wrong, until she finally sobbed out the truth. “They said… they said I’m not your real biological child!” “Oh, is that all?” I let out a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah, I found you next to a dumpster.” Dawn froze. “…Are you serious?” 6 “Yeah.” I was completely blunt about it. “I’ve told you that a million times.” I used to threaten her all the time that she came from the trash. But she never thought it was actually true. Her lower lip trembled, and she looked like she was about to wail again. But I asked her: “So what?” Dawn’s brain short-circuited, and the crying abruptly stopped. I asked again: “Am I good to you?” “…Yes.” “Did I raise you all these years?” “…Yes.” “Does the fact that you’re not biologically mine change anything about your life right now?” Dawn thought about it really, really hard. Eventually, her eyes grew brighter and brighter, and she answered loudly: “No!” “Then what’s the problem?” I threw my hands up in victory. The System: [This was supposed to be a devastating psychological trauma for the true heiress.] I coughed lightly: “Mind your business. I operate on my own rhythm.” The next day, Dawn went to school. Those annoying boys started mocking her again for being an abandoned orphan. Dawn stood up perfectly straight, tilting her chin up proudly: “So what?” “Tommy, your clothes are always wrinkled and dirty. Your parents don’t even care enough to do your laundry—they definitely don’t love you!” “Bobby, you fail every single class, and your parents don’t even show up to the meetings. They’ve totally given up on you!” “Hunter, you eat junk food for lunch every day and your parents never stop you. They clearly don’t care about your health!” The three boys stared at each other, their faces turning beet red. “Well… you’re still a dumpster baby!” Dawn remained impossibly arrogant: “So what?” “My mom loves me! I have nothing to be afraid of!” 7 Life with Dawn went on, day by day. With her stellar grades, she got into the best public magnet high school in the city. Overjoyed, I scraped together the money to move us into an apartment closer to her new school. When Dawn found out how expensive the rent was, she immediately volunteered to take on tutoring gigs. I panicked. “Absolutely not!” Dawn blinked. “Why not?” I struggled for a moment before blurting out: “Tutoring will distract you from studying! If you don’t get into an Ivy League college, you won’t make enough money to support me when I’m old!” Dawn nodded seriously. “That makes perfect sense.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But I was terrified she might actually take me seriously and drop out to wash dishes just to help me pay bills. So I quickly added: “Supporting you for a few more years is no problem for me. This is what you call a long-term stock investment.” Dawn smiled. “Thank you, Mom.” I pulled out a brand-new backpack and tossed it to her. “Here. Found it on the street.” Dawn: “Mom, my old backpack is still fine.” I glared at her viciously. “I told you to use it, so use it! Stop arguing!” Dawn smiled brightly, taking the bag. Right before she left for school, she poked her head back in: “Mom, I’m really craving one of those street cart hot dogs today.” I waved her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, got it.” That evening, I showed up early at the school gates, holding two hot dogs, ready to pick her up. Suddenly, an absurdly expensive luxury car rolled to a stop right in front of the school. Under the shocked and envious gazes of all the parents, four people stepped out. Leading them was a beautifully maintained couple dripping in Old Money elegance. Behind them was a pair of siblings. The younger sister was clutching her brother’s blazer, looking incredibly nervous. The brother was looking around in disgust, clearly feeling it was beneath him to breathe the same air as the rest of us. The System, which had been silent for ages, suddenly pinged: [The Kensington family has arrived to pick up the true heiress.] I froze in place. The System had told me that once I raised Dawn to be sixteen, her biological parents would come for her. I just never expected it to happen so abruptly.

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