My husband Wesley said in an interview that he had already distributed all his assets.
The host joked that he must have left a fortune for his son and wife.
He smiled gently and softly denied it:
“I only left them enough money to live on.”
“As for the rest of my assets, I’ve given everything to my adopted daughter Michelle.”
“This is the promise I made with her mother. I vowed at her grave that I would let her live a carefree life.”
I froze while cooking for the two children, my eyes suddenly lifting to the TV screen.
The host spoke again:
“Does your wife know about this?”
He paused slightly, but his smile didn’t change.
“She won’t object. She’s been good to Michelle all these years—better than a qualified nanny.”
I took off my apron and walked out of the kitchen, carrying my son Willett, who had been picking up toys for Michelle, back to his room.
Six years. I’d had enough too.
Since he didn’t plan to leave anything for Willett and me, whoever wanted to be this nanny could have the job.
The interview had two parts. The other was at home.
When Wesley brought the reporters home, I had just gotten Willett to sleep.
He paid no attention to me. After taking off his coat and shaking off the cold, he picked up Michelle, who was watching TV.
He affectionately pinched her chubby cheeks.
“Did Mommy bully you today?”
This was his daily routine question.
I used to think he was joking, but today I heard a different meaning in it.
He was afraid that when he wasn’t around, I would bully his beloved first love Lester’s daughter.
“Mr. Wesley is so good to his adopted daughter. Miss Lester must be very happy in heaven,” the host said.
Wesley’s lips curved slightly. I stood to the side and coughed twice.
The atmosphere froze for a few seconds.
The host belatedly realized those words were inappropriate.
“Mrs. Wesley…”
“Lena, did you wash Michelle’s school uniform clean?”
He interrupted the host, habitually ordering me around.
“I don’t trust the nanny’s washing. You must hand-wash it yourself.”
Michelle was used to it. She walked on her short legs and stuffed all the dirty clothes she’d changed out of today into my arms.
Wesley urged, “Hurry up.”
Everyone’s eyes looked me over with contempt, scorn, and disdain.
In that instant, I even felt kinship with a stray dog on the street.
In Wesley’s eyes, perhaps I had always been just a servant more useful than an ordinary nanny.
I hung my head in embarrassment, unable to suppress the sourness rising in my throat.
I took a deep breath and loosened my fingers.
Several dirty children’s clothes dropped to the floor.
“Wesley, I won’t wash them. I’m your wife, not a nanny.”
He slowly furrowed his brow and glanced at me indifferently.
“Lena, what do you mean?”
“I saw your interview today.”
I gathered my courage and met his eyes.
“You gave all our shared assets to someone else’s child. Why?”
Wesley’s gaze suddenly sharpened, his voice turning cold.
“What do you mean ‘someone else’s child’?”
He covered Michelle’s ears as he spoke.
“Michelle is my child.”
“Lena, when I brought her home to raise, I gave you a choice. You chose to take care of her yourself!”
I looked at the man in front of me, feeling my heart turn cold.
Five years ago, I was near my due date. But he disappeared for seven days and nights.
Because I couldn’t find him, I went into early labor, causing our son to be born half a month premature.
Wesley only showed up after I’d given birth.
At that moment, I’d just breathed a sigh of relief, wanting to show him our son.
But he beat me to it, holding out a bundle to me first.
“Lester died in childbirth. She entrusted her child to me. From now on, this child will be our adopted daughter.”
My face grew paler and paler. Wesley only paused when I struggled to sit up.
“If you can’t accept this, we can also divorce.”
“I’ll give you and the child monthly support payments. Nothing more than that.”
That was the choice he gave me back then.
Swallow my disgust and raise his first love’s child, or leave with my premature son with nothing.
I wasn’t willing to accept it.
I’d married him five years ago, risked half my life to give birth to a child—why should I get nothing?
So I endured it.
But five years had passed, and he hadn’t shown me or our son a trace of compassion.
His deep affection and love seemed to have died with Lester. The only remaining warmth was reserved for Lester’s child.
I suddenly felt that all my years of persistence had been like performing a ridiculous comedy for him.
Ten years of love and hate seemed to vanish in his accusations that never held any trust.
I calmly met his gaze.
“Now I want to choose again. This time, I choose to leave with my son.”
Wesley looked at me, a contemptuous sneer escaping his lips.
“Leave? Lena, if you leave me, can you even support yourself and the child? Go back to your room. Stop embarrassing me in front of all these people.”
With that, he gave the servants a look.
Several people rushed over, grabbed my arms without a word, and pushed me toward the bedroom.
The door was locked from the outside.
The room’s soundproofing wasn’t great. I could still hear their discussion.
“I really don’t know what Mrs. Wesley is making a fuss about. She has such a good life, but she has to make Mr. Wesley lose face in front of reporters.”
“Isn’t it just raising a dead woman’s child? She’s a parasite living off her husband’s money. Can’t she just endure it?”
Parasite?
When I got together with Wesley, he was still a poor guy.
I gave him all my savings to start his business.
I stayed up all night drinking and socializing for his company to close the first big deal.
And I chose to step back and become his support when he was too busy to manage his life.
But now, in everyone’s eyes, I’d become a parasite dependent on him.
I slid down against the door and sat on the floor. The noise outside gradually stopped.
Wesley opened the door, and his step inside kicked me in the waist.
It didn’t hurt, but it was like giving me an outlet.
Tears welled up in my eyes. Just as I was about to cry my heart out, a piece of clothing covered my head.
“Don’t cry. Lena, I remember you’re good at mending. Help me fix this garment.”
I pulled the clothes off my head. It was a white women’s blouse with slight wear at the cuffs.
My tears froze in my eyes. Now I couldn’t cry anymore.
A huge sense of humiliation hit me head-on. I was so angry I wanted to laugh.
I recognized this garment.
There were two walk-in closets in this house.
One held clothes for me and the two children.
The other held clothes for Wesley and Lester.
Lester was dead, yet Wesley insisted on letting someone who didn’t exist in this world leave traces in his life.
I took a deep breath and threw the clothes heavily to the ground.
“Wesley, I’m not joking with you. I’ve had enough of this life. Let’s divorce.”
I said it with certainty, but Wesley acted like he hadn’t heard.
He unbuttoned his shirt and spread his arms.
“Come help me change. Hurry up. I just promised Michelle I’d tell her a bedtime story.”
I walked up to him but didn’t move.
I just repeated very softly.
“I’m leaving with the child.”
This time, he finally looked at me properly.
The undisguised contempt in his eyes hurt me all over.
“Just tell me what you want to buy this time. Lena, I’ve told you countless times—if you want something in the future, just tell me directly. Don’t play these ridiculous roundabout games.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a card and stuffed it into my collar.
“This should be enough for you to spend for a while.”
With that, he changed his clothes himself, pushed past me, and went to Michelle’s bedroom.
The bank card hit the floor with a clack. I stared at it for a long time before laughing at myself.
So in his eyes, I really was no different from a nanny who needed to be paid off with money.
I wiped away the tears about to fall, turned around, and went to Willett’s room.
He was awake, staring blankly at nothing.
Hearing me open the door, he turned his head, his mouth pouting pitifully.
“Mom, did you fight with Dad again?”
I shook my head.
“Not really, but Mom wants to separate from Dad. Will you come with me?”
My son’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Mom, I’m just like you. I’m not happy here at all.”
“Every time Michelle gets upset, Dad scowls and scolds me. If Michelle and I want the same thing, Dad will only buy it for Michelle. The toys I play with now, the books I read—they’re all things Michelle didn’t want and threw to me.”
He counted on his fingers, his lowered voice somewhat excited.
“If we leave here, will my things be only mine from now on?”
My eyes grew intensely sore.
My son should have been cherished by everyone, but he’d been forced to live in Wesley’s favoritism all along.
He wasn’t happy. The last reason I had for maintaining this marriage was gone.
This divorce—Wesley and I were definitely going through with it.
After discussing the terms of the divorce agreement with my lawyer, I slept in Willett’s room.
I’d barely closed my eyes when the door was violently pushed open.
Wesley, his face pale, forcefully pulled me from the bed.
“Michelle has a high fever. What do I do?”
This was one of his rare moments of panic.
I instinctively glanced at Willett, who was sleeping soundly, and tiptoed out.
After making sure Willett’s door was firmly closed, I turned to Wesley.
“Physical cooling, call the nanny, go to the hospital.”
“Why are you calling me? I’m not a doctor.”
Impatience surfaced in his eyes, but for Michelle’s sake, he had to endure it.
“Lena, you raised Michelle. No one understands her condition better than you.”
“She’s burning up really badly right now.”
“Can you not be so cold-blooded?”
The description “cold-blooded” rolled through my mind.
I laughed coldly.
If I were truly cold-blooded, his beloved Michelle would have died three years ago.
Perhaps taking after her mother, Michelle had an allergic constitution.
Children are greedy. She ate a few lemon candies when the adults weren’t paying attention.
The red rash almost instantly crawled across her skin. Soon her fair face turned blue and purple.
I checked the home surveillance from time to time. When I saw Michelle collapsed on the floor, gasping in pain, I nearly went crazy with fear.
I ran more than a dozen red lights and even crashed into a guardrail on the way.
Dragging my bloody body home, I gave her allergy medicine and called an ambulance before passing out from the pain.
The hospital ambulance took both of us away.
I had a severe concussion and three broken ribs.
It took a month before I could get out of bed. And during that month, Wesley never came to see me once.
Later I broke down and demanded to know why.
Wesley glanced at me indifferently.
“You didn’t die, did you?”
“You’re a grown woman who can’t even drive properly. Whose fault is it when something happens?”
“Michelle’s condition was more serious. She hasn’t been able to eat properly for days.”
“By the way, hurry up and get discharged. Michelle says she wants to eat your cooking.”
He was always like this.
When he needed me, I could be a doctor, a cook, a nanny for his household.
Just never his respected and beloved wife.
I said nothing and walked into Michelle’s room.
Her face was flushed red with fever.
I took off her clothes and wiped her palms and neck with alcohol, then found fever medicine and fed it to her.
The fever subsided quickly. The moment she opened her eyes, Wesley pushed me aside and picked up Michelle.
“You scared Daddy to death.”
“Do you still feel bad?”
Michelle’s gaze was still somewhat dazed, but she instinctively hugged Wesley’s neck.
In her sweet voice: “Daddy, thank you for taking care of me. You worked hard.”
“Not hard at all. As long as you’re healthy, I’ll do anything.”
I stood to the side, smiling until tears fell.
Hearing my voice, the father and daughter turned to look at me.
I stared at Michelle.
“Michelle, I’m the one who took care of you. What did he work hard at?”
“These five years, I’ve cared for and loved you like a daughter. What did he work hard at?”
“Working hard at missing the mother who died giving birth to you?”
Wesley’s expression cracked inch by inch.
The anger on his face could almost burn down the entire world.
“Lena, have you lost your mind?”
He covered Michelle’s ears and glared at me furiously.
I calmed down and tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“I’ve just thought things through.”
“Wesley, someone will deliver the divorce papers to your office.”
Leaving that room that made me sick, my heart suddenly felt lighter.
Actually, I’d had enough years ago.
I started packing overnight.
Wesley was truly angry. After coaxing Michelle to sleep, he went straight back to his room.
He habitually ignored me, just as he had throughout these years of marriage.
I’d also gotten used to his indifference.
After packing my and my son’s belongings, I went to the study.
When the company was first established, I held quite a few initial shares.
Even though Wesley had deliberately diluted them later, the shares I held were enough to overturn the balance of power in the company.
After taking out what belonged to me, I found a drawer full of letters.
I randomly opened one. They were all letters he’d written to Lester.
In every letter, he mentioned my son and me.
Seeing the content inside, I finally understood the reason for his favoritism.
“I’m raising our daughter very well. Don’t worry, I won’t let Lena and her son bully our daughter.”
“Michelle can say ‘mama’ now. Every night I hold up your photo and tell her you’re her real mother.”
“Lena is just a live-in nanny taking care of her.”
Every sentence, every word was like a blade stabbing into my heart.
The fact that Michelle was his biological daughter made my stomach churn. I felt so sick I bent over and dry-heaved.
Through thick and thin together until now, I’d given everything.
Ten years of marriage, but it was full of lies.
Suppressing intense nausea, I photographed all the letters that could serve as evidence.
Then I tore them up one by one. As shredded paper scattered across the floor, Wesley pushed the door open.
His expression changed, but it all turned into the annoyance and disgust that settled between his brows.
“Lena, where are your manners?”
“Who told you to touch my things?”
I looked at him calmly.
His frown deepened. “What are you looking at? Why aren’t you going to take care of Michelle?”
In my hand, I still clutched the last letter he’d written yesterday.
In that letter, he’d even arranged to be buried with Lester after death.
Smiling, I slowly and firmly tore the last letter into pieces before his eyes.
“Wesley, I wish you and Lester happiness and harmony in your future days. May your family of three be blissful forever.”
“I’ll fulfill your perfect love story. I wish you an early reunion.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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My online boyfriend is incredibly good at swearing.
Especially when he’s roasting my annoying boss. He can curse him out for ten minutes straight without repeating a single word.
Then, one day, I accidentally pocket-dialed a video call.
My online boyfriend answered instantly. And then, the handsome, chilling face of my boss filled the screen.
“…” I was completely speechless.
1
[Baby, want to play a game?]
When my online boyfriend sent that message, I was still stuck at the office, miserably grinding through overtime.
I replied bitterly: [Can’t. Still working.]
[Why are you still working so late?]
[Poor baby.]
I replied, feeling sorry for myself: [Management forced it. Honestly, there’s absolutely nothing to do.]
He slowly typed out a single question mark.
I was bursting with frustration and had nowhere to vent, so my fingers flew across the keyboard.
[The big boss came to the office today. Remember the one I told you I hate?]
[Our management just wants to kiss his ass. They forced us all to stay late to show off their ‘leadership’ skills.]
[Tell me, is there something wrong with his brain?]
My online boyfriend filled the entire screen with question marks.
[No way… Is your management team brain-damaged?]
[Forcing overtime is good leadership? Doesn’t forced overtime just prove how incompetent they are?]
[I have literally never seen such pathetic ass-kissing in my life.]
[But then again, that boss of yours has a weird way of thinking. Who knows, maybe he actually eats that stuff up.]
[You’ve been treated so unfairly, baby.]
I was about to complain some more when the big boss, whose brain was allegedly wired wrong, appeared at the door of our bullpen.
He was holding his phone in one hand, his thumb tapping away at the screen. His head was slightly bowed, looking like he was texting someone.
His expensive suit jacket was casually slung over his other arm.
His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. He exuded the cold, aloof aura of an untouchable heir.
Until he looked up—
The expression in his eyes completely suppressed that careless, relaxed vibe.
Our department head was already scurrying over to brown-nose him.
At that exact moment, I received a new message from my online boyfriend.
[Baby, don’t be mad. I’ll show you my abs, okay?]
I was just about to say yes.
In the dead silent office, Preston Sterling’s low, commanding voice rang out: “Why hasn’t anyone left?”
“Overtime,” the department head said with an ingratiating smile. “Everyone’s work ethic is very strong. To support their efforts, I also—”
Preston cut him off: “Are you actually getting work done, or just pretending?”
Instantly, a cold sweat broke out on the department head’s forehead.
“W-working…”
Preston called the department head out into the hallway.
Less than a minute later, the department head trudged back in, looking thoroughly defeated.
His face was pale as he weakly announced: “Go home.”
My coworkers and I exchanged bewildered looks.
Then, we packed our bags at lightning speed and bolted.
2
When I got home, I jumped on a voice call with my online boyfriend to play our usual game.
Maybe because I had just heard the big boss speak not long ago, I kept feeling like my online boyfriend’s voice sounded somewhat similar to his.
Especially the pacing and the way he emphasized certain words. It was almost identical.
“Baby, get in the car. We need to outrun the blue zone,” he called out to me.
“Oh,” I said, quickly hopping into the virtual vehicle. I tested the waters, “Can you say a specific sentence for me?”
“Say what?”
“‘Why hasn’t anyone left?’ Say that.”
He dragged out the syllables, pausing between each word like he was pouting: “Whyyy~ hasn’t~ anyooone~ left~? Are~ you~ waiiiiting~ for~ me~?”
“…”
I completely abandoned the idea that they sounded alike.
If these two were the same person, the sun would rise in the west tomorrow.
I focused on the game, but my online boyfriend wouldn’t let it go: “What’s wrong? Why did you suddenly want me to say that?”
I couldn’t shake him, so I told him the truth.
“It’s just… for a split second, I thought your voice sounded a lot like my boss’s.”
“The boss who sexually harassed his female subordinate?”
“…Yeah.”
The rumor about him sexually harassing a female subordinate was something I had heard from a colleague who had recently quit the executive suite.
According to the rumor, Preston wanted to sleep with her.
She refused and fought him off, so Preston made her go to HR and process her own resignation.
At the time, I never would have thought that Preston, who looked so respectable and professional on the outside, was actually a monster behind closed doors.
I had complained about him to my online boyfriend plenty of times, which is why he also deeply despised the man.
“Baby! How could my voice sound like that animal’s?” he sounded hurt, with a specific kind of stubbornness mixed in. “You’re insulting me! I’m going to be mad at you!”
I quickly tried to soothe him: “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad. You don’t sound like him.”
“You already said I do,” he argued irrationally. “I’m going to get vocal cord surgery tomorrow. I won’t sound like him!”
He made me laugh. “What do I have to do to make you not mad?”
His attitude instantly turned shy and bashful. He mumbled, “You know what.”
I did know.
I tested the waters, calling out softly: “Babe~”
“Hmph.”
“Boyfriend?”
His huff grew louder: “Hmph!”
I pulled out the ultimate weapon: “Husband.”
He immediately replied: “Hehe. Not mad anymore.”
Not only was he not mad, but even through the internet, I could feel him grinning from ear to ear.
We played until eleven o’clock.
I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.
By the time I finished showering, washed my hair, and came out, my clingy online boyfriend had already sent me a barrage of messages.
[Baby, I finished my shower!]
[You take so long.]
[But waiting for you to shower makes me feel so happy.]
[Daily reminder: We agreed to meet up in person this Saturday.]
[I already bought that men’s cologne you like. When we meet, I’ll make sure you can’t keep your hands off me!]
[Baby, what do you want to see me wear?]
[I put together a few outfits. Pick your favorite, and I’ll put it on for you!]
I opened the photos he sent. Just then, a drop of water fell from the end of my wet hair and landed directly on the screen.
Then, the screen automatically backed out of the chat interface.
I blinked in confusion, turned off my hairdryer, and casually flipped my wet hair out of my face.
At that moment, a second and third drop of water hit the screen.
I pulled a tissue to wipe the water off the screen.
I didn’t expect the screen to be so hypersensitive. I didn’t know when, but it had automatically dialed a video call to him.
I watched helplessly as the call connected.
The person on the other end of the video was sitting up straight in front of the camera, his hair fluffy and soft from a fresh shower.
Exquisite brows, a straight nose, full lips—every single one of his features was perfectly proportioned.
The only problem was…
This face was exactly the same as the face I had seen in the office not too long ago.
—He was Preston Sterling!
The moment I realized this, I panicked and slammed the ‘End Call’ button.
3
Water was still dripping from the ends of my hair, but I didn’t have time to care.
My mind was consumed by one thought—
My online boyfriend was actually my strict, unsmiling boss, Preston Sterling?!
This was absurd and ridiculous.
But the truth was staring me right in the face, and I had no choice but to believe it.
I tried to search through the past for clues, but the shock of “Preston is my online boyfriend” was too massive. My brain simply couldn’t process anything else.
In my anxiety, my brain conjured up an even more terrifying question.
—Did he see me?
Logically, even if he did, it shouldn’t matter. After all, I had never interacted with him at the office; he probably didn’t even know what I looked like.
But what if?
What if we bumped into each other at the office one day, and my cover was completely blown?
I was restless, filled with panic and unease.
Preston, who had been abruptly hung up on, was clearly not having a good time either.
He sent a barrage of messages.
[Baby, why did you hang up?]
[Did you press the wrong button?]
[I thought you wanted to see what I looked like, so I answered… I didn’t mean to offend you.]
[Baby, are… are you not happy with how I look?]
[I just got out of the shower, so I might not look my best. Let me send you a few more pictures.]
[Image]
[Image]
[Image]
[This is how I usually look. Does this look a little better?]
[Baby, do you like them?]
If, a moment ago, I still harbored a sliver of hope that “Maybe I saw it wrong, maybe my online boyfriend isn’t Preston,” this moment completely crushed it.
Because the candid photos he sent were undeniably Preston himself.
Sitting in a conference room in a tailored suit, looking out from a mountaintop in a black windbreaker, leaping for a dunk in a #23 basketball jersey… Every single one was him. Every single one was Preston.
I was losing my mind!
He seemed to be losing it too, sending a voice memo that sounded almost like a whimper: “Baby, please don’t ignore me. You’re scaring me.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
If I previously thought his pouting and whining was cute…
Now that I knew he was the cold, untouchable Preston Sterling, it made my skin crawl.
How could the contrast be this extreme?
At the office, he was unsmiling, strictly professional. But in private… in private, he was shamelessly needy…
I slowly typed: [Did you see me?]
He was very excited.
[I did!]
[A super gorgeous girl!]
“…”
I was just contemplating how good I could possibly look from the fatal angle of having wet hair plastered to my face, when he sent another message.
[But I didn’t see clearly.]
[I only saw baby’s little chin and little nose. So cute, I want to kiss them.]
[Did baby just wash her hair?]
[Make sure you blow-dry your hair, okay? Otherwise, you’ll catch a cold, and my heart will ache for you.]
“…”
This was a true test of my psychological fortitude.
Using blow-drying my hair as an excuse, I paused this excruciating conversation.
The hairdryer hummed loudly.
I scrolled through my chat history with my online boyfriend, still finding it hard to believe that this person was Preston.
Maybe someone was impersonating him?
It wasn’t uncommon for people to use other people’s photos for online dating. Clinging to that last shred of hope, I opened a chat with a coworker.
[Hey bestie, are you in a group chat with Preston?]
[Can you take a screenshot of his WhatsApp profile for me?]
My coworker replied: [I don’t dare. That group is full of top executives.]
“…”
I offered a bribe: [I’ll buy you breakfast for a week.]
She still hesitated: [What if I accidentally ‘nudge’ Mr. Sterling? I’d be completely screwed.]
I upped the ante: [I’ll cover lunch too.]
Only then did she muster the courage to send me the screenshot.
The CEO’s profile picture, nickname, WhatsApp ID, and even his location matched my online boyfriend’s exactly.
My online boyfriend was Preston.
Preston was my online boyfriend.
The moment I fully accepted this, despair washed over me.
At the same time, I was deeply confused. How dare he use his main account for online dating?
Preston, emboldened by my silence, sent another message.
It was a few pictures, a virtual fashion show.
[Baby, I changed into my clothes for Saturday. Which outfit do you think looks best?]
I suddenly remembered, we were supposed to meet in person this Saturday.
Today was already Thursday.
Which meant I only had Friday to make things clear with him.
Break up.
I had to break up immediately!
4
Having decided to break up, I began to carefully choose my words.
I couldn’t just tell him the real reason, but breaking up out of the blue would definitely make him suspicious.
After thinking it over, I decided to use the video call as an excuse.
I typed coldly: [I don’t want to meet anymore.]
[What’s wrong?]
Even through the screen, I could feel his cautious anxiety.
I replied: [You’re not my type.]
Preston panicked: [Then what type does baby like? Tell me, and I’ll work hard to become that, okay?]
[No.]
[User is typing…] stayed at the top of the screen for a long time.
A pang of guilt flashed through my heart, but remembering the Preston who sexually harassed female subordinates, I hardened my resolve.
[Let’s just break up.]
[No!]
[I won’t break up!]
[I don’t agree!]
He sent messages one after another. Seeing that I wasn’t replying, he directly initiated a video call.
He wouldn’t have done this before.
He was a man who understood boundaries. Even if he wanted to make a voice call, he would always ask if it was convenient first.
He was desperate.
But so was I.
I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to break up with him, and even more terrified my secret would be exposed.
In my panic, I simply deleted his WhatsApp contact.
The world was finally quiet.
That was probably the one good thing about online dating. As long as you deleted the other person’s contact info, it was as if they had never existed in your life, leaving no trace behind.
I set the silent phone aside.
Staring at the black screen, I felt like crying.
How did it end up like this?
How could my online boyfriend be the hypocritical Preston Sterling?
He even used to curse himself out with me. Did he not realize he was insulting himself?
For a moment, I wanted to read through our chat history again.
But when I picked up my phone, I remembered I had already deleted him.
I lay in bed clutching the empty phone, closing my eyes, trying to sleep away the melancholy of a breakup.
But I couldn’t sleep at all.
My mind was full of him.
I met him on a first-person shooter game.
It was a classic “hero saving the damsel” scenario.
He showed up right when I was getting cursed out by my teammates.
He took out the hidden enemies with a couple of shots, revived my injured character, and then verbally destroyed the teammate who wouldn’t stop spewing garbage.
Although he was cursing too.
But my stunned brain was left with only one thought: He looks so cool when he curses!
After the game ended, I immediately DM’d him: [Can we play together again sometime?]
He coldly rejected: [No.]
I thought fate ended there, but who would have thought I’d get matched with him a second time.
I followed him around like a little tail.
He probably got annoyed, and finally relented, agreeing to play with me in the future.
From meeting in the game to falling in love in reality, all those sweet memories weren’t fake.
I stared at the ceiling and let out a long sigh.
Why did he have to be Preston?
5
I didn’t sleep well all night, and I was still exhausted when I got to work the next day.
My coworker at the next desk, Kelly, was practically buzzing. She rolled her chair over to me: “Wake up! The CEO is at the office again today!”
My eyes widened: “Doesn’t he only come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”
“Who knows,” Kelly shrugged. “It’s his family’s company, he can come whenever he wants.”
“But according to Maya from the executive suite,” Kelly whispered conspiratorially, “Mr. Sterling’s mood is incredibly foul today. The whole company is on high alert. Best not to get on his bad side.”
I nodded cautiously.
As she rolled her chair away, I couldn’t help but wonder, did Preston come to the office because of me?
Although it sounded a bit arrogant, I was still worried.
Would he recognize me?
Probably not, right?
I racked my brain trying to remember our past conversations, struggling to determine if I had ever let slip any identifying details.
It was then I felt a wave of regret.
I deleted him too early. I should have just blocked him.
At least if I blocked him, I could still see our chat history.
I could have analyzed the chat logs to see if I had dropped any hints. That way I’d have some evidence to base my worries on.
I spent the entire morning on edge, but nothing happened.
I silently comforted myself not to be too paranoid, and went to the company cafeteria for lunch with my colleagues.
Unexpectedly, Preston was there too.
He sat in a prime spot on the second floor, resting his chin on one hand, overlooking the entire dining area.
Like he was looking for someone, or more specifically, looking for me.
I instinctively hid behind Kelly, concealing the chin and nose he had seen last night, terrified of being recognized.
Kelly looked bewildered: “What’s wrong?”
I made an excuse: “Chris is over there, he’s annoying.”
Chris was a male colleague who had hit on me.
Or rather, it wasn’t hitting on me, it was relentless stalking.
Kelly knew I found him annoying too, and like a mother hen protecting her chick, she stood in front of me: “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
I kept my head down the entire time, only letting Preston see the top of my head.
I thought I’d get away with it, but halfway through lunch, every employee received an email from the executive suite.
A survey on “Ineffective Overtime.”
My colleagues whispered about how the department heads’ performative overtime yesterday must have angered the CEO, and quickly clicked the link to fill out the survey.
I followed suit, dutifully entering my name and department.
The survey redirected to a new page.
My eyes instantly locked onto a required question that had absolutely nothing to do with the survey’s content.
Username for First-Person Shooter Game.
The colleagues around me were confused, muttering about why they had to fill this out.
I, however, broke out in a cold sweat.
I thought, Preston knows!
It turned out he really was that sharp.
From just a few sentences, he had deduced that I was in his company, and wanted to use this opportunity to draw me out.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
I made up a fake game username, randomly selected a few answers, and submitted the survey.
The cafeteria was noisy with chatter.
I silently told myself not to panic.
Preston didn’t know who I was yet, at least I could buy some time.
I ate my lunch clinging to that hope.
After the lunch break, Maya from the executive suite messaged me.
[Aria, come upstairs. Mr. Sterling wants to see you.]
“…”
In that moment.
The heart that had been hanging in suspense, finally died.
6
Even though I knew there was a high probability that my cover was blown, I still wanted to make a final, desperate struggle.
Before leaving, I put on a face mask.
Maya met me by the elevator. Seeing me wearing a mask, she paused: “Do you have a cold?”
I nodded: “I don’t want to pass it to Mr. Sterling.”
“That makes sense.”
She led me all the way to the CEO’s office door.
I tried several times to glean what this was about from her expression, but she only gave me a sympathetic look.
My shoulders slumped in defeat.
She comforted me: “Maybe it’s good news.”
I thought bitterly, what good news could possibly make Preston seek me out?
This was skipping way too many levels of management.
There was only one possibility.
Online dating.
I gathered my shattered emotions, thinking the worst that could happen was death, and pushed open the door with a sense of fatalistic relief.
Inside, Preston was brewing tea.
His suit jacket was carelessly tossed over the armrest of the sofa. He had his sleeves rolled up and his collar open, slowly and methodically handling a white jade teacup.
Suddenly, he looked up at me, his gaze lingering: “Why the mask?”
I faked a cough: “I have a slight cold.”
“Perfect,” he said, raising the teacup toward me. “Tangerine peel soothes the throat. Try some.”
“…”
For a moment, I really couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic.
I asked cautiously: “Did you need to see me about something, Mr. Sterling?”
He casually set down his teacup: “Aria, I hear you’re quite popular in your department?”
I answered conservatively: “I guess so.”
“Then can you help me clear up a rumor?” Preston stared at me intently.
Being stared at like that, I had the inexplicable illusion that he could see right through me.
I instinctively touched the mask on my face.
Still there, thank goodness.
I asked: “What rumor?”
“Sexually harassing a female subordinate.” He said reasonably, “People in your department seem to have a misunderstanding about me. I wasn’t the reason for Lily’s resignation.”
In an instant, I thought of a possibility I had never considered before.
If Preston harassing a female subordinate was false, could it be that the female subordinate tried to seduce him, failed, and then falsely accused him?
Preston’s answer confirmed my suspicion.
He tossed his phone in front of me: “If you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself. Honestly, I feel quite wronged about this.”
On the phone was Lily, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time.
She was apologizing and clarifying, saying she had a moment of madness and tried to seduce the CEO, and that she shouldn’t have thrown dirty water on him…
I didn’t want to listen anymore and hung up the phone.
Preston was drinking tea again. He said: “She only told you this, but I’m not sure how many people you passed it on to. I hope you can clear my name.”
I thought, I only told one person.
That was my online boyfriend, which was the person sitting in front of me.
Preston asked: “Can you handle this?”
“Yes.” I answered sheepishly.
The anxiety I had before entering the office was gradually smoothed over by this bizarre conversation.
I thought, Preston probably didn’t know who I was yet.
He just guessed his online boyfriend was in our department, but he still needed to investigate exactly who it was.
He sought me out just to have me clear up the rumor.
I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, thank goodness.
“Let’s add each other on WhatsApp then,” he suddenly said.
My eyes widened: “Huh?”
He smiled, his eyes curving: “Don’t I have the right to be updated on your progress?”
“Y-yes.”
In my panic, I hurriedly logged into my alt WhatsApp account and scanned his QR code.
Seeing the familiar profile picture reappear in the chat window, I felt an indescribable emotion.
Preston also stared at my alt account’s profile picture for a few seconds.
Finally, he smiled and said: “Looks good. You can go back to work.”
That day passed relatively peacefully.
At night, I lay in bed.
Staring at Preston’s profile picture in the chat window, I zoned out.
If the video call accident hadn’t happened, what would we be chatting about right now?
About meeting up, right?
After all, we were supposed to meet tomorrow.
He would repeatedly tell me the time and place for tomorrow’s date.
He would nervously recount what he was going to wear tomorrow, what we were going to eat tomorrow, what we were going to do together tomorrow.
He would use actions to tell me how excited he was.
More cheesily, he would say he was going to kiss me to death when we met tomorrow.
I immersed myself in this beautiful fantasy, but was suddenly defeated by cold reality.
He was Preston.
Even if he was no longer a hypocritical boss, he was still my boss.
Rather than finding out the truth at the moment of meeting and panicking, it was better that this video accident led to an early breakup.
I repeated “early breakup is better” to myself and decisively tossed my phone aside to sleep.
I slept until 10:30 the next morning.
This was the time I had agreed to meet him.
I had no intention of going, and idly scrolled through my phone.
Suddenly, Preston updated his WhatsApp status.
The picture was of the cafe where we agreed to meet.
His caption: [Waiting for you.]
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
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#MotoNovel
I have a weird kink: I love being a simp.
There is nothing I enjoy more than showering guys with unrequited attention; it adds a little spice to my otherwise boring life.
Recently, I locked onto a totally aloof, high-and-mighty guy. I’ve been simping over him for two months, and he barely gives me the time of day.
I was very satisfied with this.
But I get bored easily, and I quickly found myself a new god to worship.
A few days later, the aloof guy reached out to me on his own for the very first time: [You’ve been busy lately?]
I was right in the middle of having dinner with my new crush: [I sure am, babe. Work has been crazy lately, I’m still at the office doing overtime.]
Aloof guy: [Overtime?]
Me: [Yep yep.]
Aloof guy: [Then why don’t you look behind you?]
1
My best friend Chloe broke her leg, so I went to visit her at a high-end private hospital.
We were gossiping in her room when her attending physician happened to walk in.
I looked over, and instantly froze.
The man was tall and lean, his crisp white coat fitting perfectly. He had a cold, untouchable aura and an aloof expression.
As he went over the medical precautions with Chloe, his voice sounded like a clear, deep mountain spring—crisp, low, and magnetic.
Standing to the side, I couldn’t help but stare at his high, straight nose bridge, his thick eyelashes, and those long, knobby, elegant fingers gripping the medical chart.
As soon as he left, I exploded.
“Give me your doctor’s contact info, right now!”
Chloe gave me a deadpan look. “What for?”
I kept a completely straight face. “My contact list is missing a cold, unattainable god.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “Just admit your simp disease is acting up again.”
In the end, she still forwarded me his contact card.
I quickly sent a friend request.
His username was probably his real name: Silas Vance.
His profile wasn’t set to private, so I casually scrolled through his feed. It was all shared articles.
Medical lectures, disease research, or health science pop-eds.
It looked like a purely professional account.
It took a long time before Silas accepted my request.
Me: [Hi Dr. Vance, I’m the friend of your patient, Chloe. My name is Sloane.]
Silas: [Hmm.]
Me: [About when will she be discharged?]
Silas: [The day after tomorrow.]
Me: [Thank you for taking such good care of her.]
Silas: [It’s my job.]
I was stuck.
His strictly-business, ice-cold attitude made me wonder how I was even supposed to start my simping routine.
No, I had to establish a presence first.
For the next two days, under the guise of taking care of my best friend, I practically lived at the hospital.
My makeup was flawless, my outfits dazzling.
Chloe looked like she wanted to physically sweep me out of the room.
Facts proved that this method was highly effective.
The next time I saw Silas, his eyes paused on me for two full seconds before shifting away.
Feeling smug, I went back and continued sending him harmless trash-talk on text.
At the end of our chat, Silas paused for a moment.
Silas: [Ms. Sloane.]
Me: [Here, here!]
Silas: [The hospital has patients with respiratory diseases. I suggest you wear less perfume.]
Me: […]
2
The day Chloe was discharged, I was devastated.
Chloe almost beat me to death.
“Give it up. I asked the nurses. Silas is apparently a trust fund kid; you absolutely cannot simp your way to him.”
I got even more excited. “It’s only fun if I can’t catch him. If I catch him, it’s boring.”
Chloe was silent for a few seconds. “I truly cannot understand you.”
I smiled.
Sometimes, I don’t understand myself either.
After Chloe was discharged, I continued to “harass” Silas.
Of course, as a simp with professional etiquette, I only picked times when he wasn’t busy.
For example, pretending to seek medical advice: [Dr. Vance, my neck has been really stiff lately, when do you work next?]
He directly sent me a link to the hospital’s portal: [Book an appointment online.]
Or, for example, I’d leave comments under the dry medical articles he shared: [You work so hard!], [So impressive!], [Learned a lot!]
He replied to none of them.
I suddenly realized a problem.
I still didn’t know if he was single.
This was a very serious issue, and I decided to ask him in person.
On Tuesday afternoon, I booked an outpatient consultation with Silas.
The co-pay was expensive, but to continue my happy simping journey, I endured it.
Before long, the nurse called my name and led me into Silas’s office.
This was my first time alone with Silas.
From less than two meters away, I could see the tiny mole on his high nose bridge, his distinct, thick eyelashes, and his perfectly shaped, pale pink lips.
He looked up at me.
My heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He gestured for me to sit and asked me to describe my symptoms.
After I stuttered through a description, he asked a few more questions.
I had never been this nervous in my life.
Silas had very dark pupils, and when he looked at you seriously, there was a deeply focused gentleness to it.
It was a stark contrast to his cold, aloof aura.
My mind went blank, and I babbled a bunch of nonsense.
Silas listened patiently for a long time, and finally gave his advice: “Ms. Sloane, I personally don’t think your cervical spine issue is severe. If you’re still uncomfortable, I can refer you to physical therapy.”
I snapped back to reality and shook my head repeatedly.
It wasn’t until I walked out of the office that I realized I’d forgotten my main objective.
When I turned around to go back, I saw Silas had already left his office and was walking to the end of the hallway.
I looked down at my phone; it was already past 5 PM.
I had actually held him up from clocking out.
I chased after him.
“Dr. Vance.”
He turned around.
“I feel a little dizzy.”
He frowned slightly. “Just started?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s get you an MRI first, once we get the scans we’ll…”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
My vision went black, and I passed out.
I lied to Silas.
I didn’t have a neck problem.
I had hypoglycemia.
3
In a haze, I was still somewhat conscious.
I felt someone pick me up.
The embrace was broad, firm, and full of a sense of security.
Not long after the nurse hooked me up to an IV, I finally forced my heavy eyelids open.
Someone was standing beside me.
I looked up and saw Silas, his brows furrowed.
“If you have a history of low blood sugar, remember to eat your meals on time.”
He dropped that sentence, turned around, and prepared to leave.
“Silas.”
This was the first time I’d called him by his first name. He paused and looked back at me.
I finally remembered the purpose of my trip: “Are you single?”
A hint of impatience flashed in Silas’s eyes, and he frowned slightly. “Ms. Sloane, if you don’t have anything else…”
“Are you?” I asked again.
Silas paused for two seconds. “Yes.”
He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm.
He looked back again, the displeasure obvious on his face.
Acting as if I didn’t see it, I looked up at him and flashed a genuinely sincere smile from the bottom of my heart.
“Then… is it okay if I have a crush on you?”
After I said that, I clearly saw his dark pupils—which had just been filled with annoyance—tremble twice.
4
I had committed the cardinal sin of simping.
Simp Rule #1: Sweet words, cold heart. Never throw a straight pitch.
Silas’s previous life had probably been too orderly; he’d never seen someone as brazen and direct as me.
One sentence, and I’d scared him away.
Leaving the hospital, I fell into deep regret.
Now I probably couldn’t even keep my spot on his contacts list.
Hesitating for a moment, I tried sending a message: [Are you still alive on my list?]
It actually went through.
I quickly unsent it.
Silas replied with an ellipsis.
Silas: [Alive.]
Me: […]
Crap, he saw it.
Me: [Sorry about that, my brain was a bit fuzzy today. I was just talking nonsense.]
He didn’t reply.
I scrolled through TikTok for a while before a notification finally popped up.
Silas: [Hmm.]
Died before the battle even began.
Revealing my intentions too early made my ensuing path as a simp incredibly difficult.
During our next few chats, Silas barely entertained me.
Fortunately, I was an experienced simp and knew when to advance and when to retreat. I drastically lowered the frequency of my check-ins and picked the perfect moments.
Like saying a harmless “Good work” after he finished a night shift, or asking “Been busy lately?” on his day off.
After retreating to a safe, non-invasive distance, Silas would occasionally exchange a few words with me.
I never dragged the conversations out, always quitting while I was ahead.
After all, I had my own life to live.
When I asked, “Off work yet?”, and he replied “Yeah,” I knew he was no longer repulsed by my presence.
Suddenly, I really wanted to see him.
Picking a slow weekend, I sat in the outpatient lobby waiting for him to get off work.
Honestly, I didn’t even know if I’d catch him.
But since I didn’t have a strong motive, I treated it as a little spice to my day. If it happens, it happens.
Coincidentally, I did see him.
And I witnessed quite a dramatic scene.
Silas had already changed into his street clothes and was about to leave, but a girl blocked his path.
From a distance, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see Silas frowning, impatience bleeding into his eyes.
It looked exactly like the expression he gave me that day.
Probably another relentless pursuer.
Sure enough, as I got closer, I heard their conversation.
“Ms. Harper, I personally think you’d be better off switching to another doctor.”
“Silas, I’m not here to see you as a patient, I…”
“Sweetie,” I walked over and cut her off. “Dr. Vance is off the clock. I don’t think he wants to be bothered anymore.”
My sudden appearance startled her.
Because she was young, she blushed, muttered an “Okay,” and hurried away.
Silas frowned and glanced at me.
I had no intention of bothering him further. I nodded at him, turned around, and walked away.
While I was standing on the curb waiting for an Uber, an SUV pulled up in front of me.
The window slowly rolled down.
I raised an eyebrow and walked over with interest.
“Dr. Vance, do you have something to say to me?”
Silas had both hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixed straight ahead, his voice cool. “Sloane.”
That was the first time he’d called me by my name. My heart skipped a beat.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t like being bothered after work.”
I paused.
Was he referring to that girl’s behavior just now?
I looked down and smiled in understanding. “My intentions are different from hers.”
Silas turned his head to look at me.
The streetlights cast shifting shadows across his face. His dark pupils were filled with suspicion and probing.
He scoffed, a bit dismissively. “How is it different?”
“I just came to the hospital to sit. If I see you, great; if not, whatever. I don’t demand your response. Whether I like you or not is my own business. If I bothered you, I won’t come around anymore.”
The way he looked at me was full of pure confusion.
I figured normal people probably couldn’t comprehend my mindset.
So I smiled and added, “Silas, the fact that I like you just proves you’re a really outstanding person.”
He didn’t respond.
I waved at him. “Get home safe. Bye.”
5
After that, I rarely bothered Silas.
Simp Rule #2: Quit while you’re ahead.
Besides, as a seasoned corporate drone, I long ago lost the time to daydream like a little girl.
Occasionally, when I thought of him, I’d send a message.
Probably because I had a good sense of boundaries, he always replied.
Even though he didn’t say much, he never showed any annoyance.
One morning, my calendar popped up with a reminder: Silas’s Birthday.
I had dug that up from the hospital’s staff directory back when I first got interested in him.
I really was a dedicated simp.
If this were in the past, I might have sent a gift.
But since I had no plans to intrude on his actual life, I figured a simple text would do.
That night, I stayed up late writing a proposal. As soon as the clock struck midnight, I casually texted him: [Happy Birthday.]
Silas didn’t reply.
Expected. I didn’t think much of it.
When I finally finished my proposal and collapsed into bed at 2 AM, my phone lit up.
Silas: [Thank you.]
I quickly replied: [No problem.]
Silas: [Still awake?]
Since he was a guy I had simped for, the reflex was still there.
I smoothly typed: [Waiting for your reply, obviously.]
Me: [Why are you still awake?]
He paused for a bit.
Silas: [Just got out of surgery.]
Me: [You work so hard.]
Me: [Wishing you a new year filled with winning the lottery, endless green lights, and always finding the cool side of the pillow.]
Me: [But most importantly, stay happy.]
“Typing…” appeared for two minutes.
Silas: [Hmm.]
Silas: [Go to sleep.]
I didn’t think there was anything inappropriate about that night’s conversation.
After all, nobody hates hearing nice birthday wishes, right?
Facts proved me right.
After that day, I could clearly feel Silas talking more during our chats.
Sometimes he’d even share things happening around him.
Of course, from beginning to end, he never initiated a conversation.
Still the aloof god. That was fine, I was very satisfied.
A month later, Chloe went to the hospital to get her cast off.
I happened to be free, so I went with her.
Honestly, I didn’t go with the intention of seeing Silas, so when I saw him in the hospital, I was very calm.
It was just a normal doctor-patient-family dynamic.
But when Silas was talking to Chloe, his gaze landed on me several times.
I discreetly sniffed my wrist.
Did the perfume I sprayed yesterday last until today?
After the cast came off, Chloe’s boyfriend came to pick her up.
They invited me to dinner, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I made up an excuse about having plans and told them to go ahead.
Walking out to the lobby, I bumped into Silas, who was just getting off work.
Afraid he’d think I was waiting for him on purpose, I quickened my pace, trying to leave the hospital before him.
Silas suddenly called out: “Sloane.”
I slammed on the brakes.
He took long strides and stopped in front of me: “Why are you running?”
I blinked. “I wasn’t running.”
Silas choked on his words.
The air grew weirdly silent.
The after-hours lobby was dimly lit. Looking up at Silas, I easily recalled the way he frowned at me from inside his car the last time we met.
I lowered my head. “Well… have a good night, I’m taking off.”
I took two steps past him before he called out again.
I turned around.
“Want to grab dinner together?”
He still had that cold expression; his brows didn’t even twitch.
But I could clearly hear my heart accelerate for two seconds.
We chose a chain burger joint across from the hospital.
It was dinner time, so it was pretty packed.
The noisy environment slightly eased the awkwardness.
Sitting across from Silas, I suddenly felt completely out of my depth.
In all my years of being a simp, I rarely felt this way.
When the food arrived, we both kept our heads down and ate without a single word of exchange, like strangers forced to share a table.
But my eyes inevitably drifted to him.
He sat perfectly straight, chewing almost soundlessly. Paired with his perpetually expressionless face, he looked like a Michelin judge critically evaluating the food.
I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Is it good?”
Silas looked up.
I rubbed my nose. “You look so serious eating it.”
The corner of his lips curled up.
This was the first time I’d seen Silas smile.
Under the warm white lights, his eyes softened, his eyelashes fluttered, and his pale lips curved into a gentle arc.
Those dark eyes, now brimming with amusement, looked at me again.
I suddenly lost my voice.
Honestly, if someone didn’t know Silas, they might not even realize he was smiling.
But in my heart, one sentence kept echoing on loop:
The fragrance of a high mountain flower is truly an exclusive reward for the brave mountaineer.
“Yeah, it’s good,” he said.
In the end, Silas drove me home.
We barely spoke on the way.
When we arrived, I said “Bye,” and he replied “Hmm.”
It looked like just two casual friends who happened to grab a bite.
But I vaguely felt that something was different now.
And that difference made me panic.
6
Ever since I was a teenager, I realized I was a bit different from other girls.
I was easily attracted to dazzling, outstanding guys, and could effortlessly harbor crushes, chase them, and express my affection without any emotional baggage.
But the moment they reciprocated, all my feelings would vanish into thin air.
After it happened a few times, I got tired of it.
I forced myself to date a decent guy for a while.
In the end, we had an ugly breakup. He pointed a finger in my face and demanded, “Sloane, were you just playing me from the very beginning?”
I wanted to tell him no, I really wasn’t.
In the beginning, my feelings for him were so genuine and pure, without any ulterior motives, not even demanding a response.
I didn’t understand why I was like this.
Later on, I simply stopped trying to date and focused on being a simp.
If the guy didn’t respond, perfect. If he did, I ran.
It satisfied me without hurting anyone else.
So, when I sensed a shift in Silas’s attitude, I chose to ice him out.
For several days, I didn’t text him.
But since I’d spent almost two months on him, I couldn’t bear to delete him. I let him lie quietly in my contact list.
A colorful stroke in my history of simping.
At the same time, I found a new male god.
Our company’s new Creative Director, Liam Sterling. Handsome, highly capable, and extremely polite.
Most importantly, he looked like the type who would never fall for me.
I was very pleased.
At his welcome dinner, I successfully got on his radar and added him on IG.
Casually scrolling through his feed, I noticed his favorite restaurant.
So, on Friday night, I walked into that $100-a-plate Italian restaurant I probably would never visit otherwise, and faked a very coincidental encounter with Liam, who was dining alone. Acting super familiar, I sat right across from him.
He just raised an eyebrow in surprise, showing no signs of disgust.
Simp Rule #3: Maintain an atmosphere of push-and-pull.
I didn’t immediately act overly eager. Instead, I brought up some light topics to open the conversation.
As time passed, we fell into a rhythm. He started talking more, sometimes even actively guiding the conversation.
I was incredibly satisfied.
Just as we were having a great time, my phone buzzed on the table.
I glanced down. Silas’s name blared on the screen.
Silas: [You’ve been busy lately?]
???
He was actually initiating a text?
But unfortunate for him, my affections had already shifted.
So, I pulled out my playbook for brushing guys off.
Me: [I sure am, babe. Work has been crazy lately, I’m still at the office doing overtime.]
To make sure he wouldn’t reply, I even laid it on thick, acting like a total pick-me by calling him “babe.”
Yeah, that should be gross enough, right?
I had just locked my screen when another message came in.
Silas: [Overtime?]
He actually replied?
Any other time, I’d play along and chat with him. But right now, I was sitting across from my new crush. How could I keep staring at my phone?
So I brushed him off: [Yep yep.]
He didn’t reply again.
I quickly shoved my phone in my pocket and went back to laughing and talking with Liam.
Then, my phone buzzed again.
I held back for two seconds before pulling it out, intending to turn it on silent.
I accidentally glanced at the latest message.
Silas: [Then why don’t you look behind you.]
7
My brain exploded with a loud boom.
Waves of numbness shot down my spine.
Bracing myself, I slowly turned around.
Not far behind me, in a corner booth by the window, sat the very iceberg I had been simping over for two months: Silas.
He was leaning back, arms crossed, staring at me with an unreadable expression.
Is there any situation more horrifying than this?
I actually felt the bizarre guilt of being caught cheating.
Even though I wasn’t involved with either of these men!
I frantically turned back around.
Liam noticed my weird behavior and glanced behind me. “Everything okay?”
I opened my mouth to explain when another text popped up.
Silas: [Having fun?]
Me: […]
Was this divine punishment for being a serial chaser?
Silas: [Come over here.]
I looked up at Liam.
Me: [Why?]
Silas: [Do me a favor.]
What favor could he possibly need?
Then again, favors were rare, but simping is a long game.
I gritted my teeth and excused myself to Liam. “Liam, I just saw a friend I know. I’m gonna go say hi for a bit.”
Liam paused but agreed easily. “Sure, go ahead.”
I bolted over to Silas’s table.
“What do you need help with?”
He took a sip of water before looking up at me. “I’m on a blind date.”
My face was full of question marks.
“Where’s the date?”
“Restroom.”
No wonder I hadn’t noticed him earlier; he had been blocked by his date.
I suddenly realized something.
“Wait, you don’t want me to crash your blind date, do you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
Me: […]
What do you mean ‘Yes’?! Do I look like a professional homewrecker?
I was about to argue when his date returned.
I hijacked her seat.
“And this is…?” the gorgeous woman asked, looking at Silas.
Amidst the awkward tension, I shot up like my chair was on fire.
“Ms. Greene.”
Just as I stood up, Silas spoke.
My heart clenched tightly.
Please don’t tell me he was about to paint me as his crazy stalker ex.
“This is my ex-girlfriend.”
I froze.
Holy crap, I guessed right?
“There are still some unresolved feelings between us, so…”
Unresolved feelings?
I whipped my head to stare at Silas.
The woman called Ms. Greene paused, then replied with utmost grace and understanding: “I understand.” And left on her own.
That easy?
Wait. Since Ms. Greene was so understanding, Silas could have just rejected her directly. Why drag me over for this unnecessary “favor”?
Before I could question him, Silas beat me to it.
“Overtime?”
Me: […]
I forced an explanation: “I was working overtime earlier.”
Silas let out an “Oh,” and said, “And then came to the restaurant to continue your overtime?”
Me: […]
Fine. Lying is wrong, I take the L.
I pursed my lips and prepared to leave.
Silas, probably thinking I was going back to Liam’s table, reminded me deadpan, “He left.”
I looked over. He really had left.
When I turned back, Silas was staring at me.
Those dark eyes were completely unreadable.
In a flash, it felt like the night we ate burgers together. I felt that same sudden awkwardness.
The air was quiet for a few seconds before he looked away. His voice was hoarse, almost like a sigh. “I’ll take you home.”
Sitting in his familiar car, the atmosphere was even colder than last time.
Silas maintained his expressionless facade, but through the tight line of his jaw, I could sense his displeasure.
I tried to lighten the mood: “That restaurant tonight was pretty good, huh.”
Duh, every bite was literally eating money, of course it was good.
Silas didn’t reply.
The temperature dropped another few degrees.
I kept forcing a smile. “I can’t believe someone as amazing as you has to go on blind dates. Ms. Greene seemed lovely, you weren’t into her?”
Silas still didn’t reply.
…Whatever, silence it is.
I looked down, awkwardly rubbing my nose, when he suddenly called my name: “Sloane.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you always like this?”
I didn’t process it at first, turning to him: “Huh?”
“Casually liking someone, and then instantly moving on to the next.”
I froze completely.
He kept his eyes on the road. The streetlights blurred past the window, making it impossible to read his expression.
But I could feel the air pressure drop to zero.
I swallowed hard. “I told you, I don’t demand a response. Whether I like someone or not is entirely my own business.”
The moment the words left my mouth, Silas’s knuckles on the steering wheel turned white.
“So why do you have to do it?” His voice was freezing. “Not asking for a response, just blindly expressing affection… aren’t you afraid of burdening the other person?”
Of course I was afraid.
That’s exactly why I only picked guys who would never fall for me.
“As long as they don’t like me back, there’s no burden, right?”
Silas paused.
We hit a red light. As the car stopped, the neon glow illuminated his clenched jaw and furrowed brow.
An indescribable emotion flared up in my chest.
Blood rushed to my head, and I blurted out: “Don’t tell me you fell for me?”
The light turned green. Silas slammed on the gas.
I was thrown back into my seat as I heard his icy reply: “I haven’t.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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In my past life, my stepsister and I were getting married at the same time.
My father gave us a choice between two arranged marriages: the son of a billionaire tycoon, or a coarse, newly wealthy thug. She decisively chose the billionaire’s son, leaving me to marry the thug.
But as it turned out, after she married into the billionaire family, her husband worked constantly and never came home, merely giving her a $50 million monthly allowance.
Claiming she couldn’t endure the “cold violence” and emotional neglect, she rebelled against the family and demanded a divorce.
Meanwhile, my thug husband came home on time every single day, and we were practically inseparable.
So, when we were both reborn, she jumped the gun, chose the thug first, and forced me to marry the billionaire’s son.
I was stunned.
My husband never comes home, AND I get $50 million a month in fun money? How is that not the absolute dream?
Why on earth would anyone choose an uneducated, suffocatingly controlling brute?
1
“Brad Miller!” Chloe’s voice rang out, trembling with excitement. “Mom, Dad, I’ve made my choice. It’s Brad Miller!
“What’s the point of having so much money? When looking for a man, you need someone who loves you, cherishes you, and prioritizes his family!”
After declaring this, she didn’t forget to shoot me a mocking, triumphant glare over her shoulder.
It was that single look.
That look told me she had been reborn, too.
In our previous life, after she married the billionaire, she used to look at Brad and me—always joined at the hip—and make those exact same passive-aggressive comments.
I pursed my lips, fighting with everything I had to suppress the massive grin threatening to break across my face.
For a woman, marriage brings three great joys:
A husband who never comes home, an unlimited bank account, and zero in-laws to serve.
With a setup this perfect, I could wake up laughing in my sleep.
My stepmother frowned in confusion. “Chloe, you misspoke, right? You meant Ethan Vance, not Brad Miller!”
Chloe shook her head frantically.
“No, I meant it. I want the self-made man, Brad Miller.
“He might not be as wealthy as Ethan Vance, but he’s gentle and considerate! He has high emotional intelligence, and he’s strong and healthy.
“I want him, Mom. I want him!”
My stepmother quickly tried to intervene.
“Silly girl, what nonsense are you sprouting? Brad Miller has no education, and his temper is notoriously volatile. You’ll suffer if you go with him.”
Chloe clung to her mother’s arm, whining sweetly.
“Mom, he’ll be incredibly gentle and loving after we get married, trust me. I wouldn’t gamble with the rest of my life!”
My stepmother hesitated, clearly disapproving, but seeing Chloe so resolute, she finally caved.
“Alright, alright. You’re my only precious daughter. If it makes you happy, we’ll do it your way.”
Chloe happily kissed her mother’s cheek.
Then, she looked at me with insufferable smugness.
“Sister, congratulations on marrying the billionaire. You’ll have endless wealth and glory to enjoy for the rest of your life.”
For the first time ever, I felt her words were music to my ears.
I flashed a bright, toothy smile, as radiant as the sun.
“Sister, if you’re going to speak such sweet words, you should speak them more often.”
Chloe sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Laugh while you can. Once you marry him, you’ll understand what it truly means to be a living widow.
“So what if he has money? What’s the point of marriage if not to be with a man who dotes on you?
“When the time comes and you can’t take it anymore, don’t even think about divorce. You’ll just waste your youth away in that empty mansion.”
I tried my best to dial back my smile, but anticipating my glorious future, I still let out a genuine, happy laugh.
Forget giving me $50 million a month to do absolutely nothing.
For that kind of money, I’d gladly help him take care of his mistresses’ postpartum recovery!
I’d have money, absolute freedom, and no one breathing down my neck to start a family.
How is this life any different from being a literal god?
2
Just as Chloe wished, the matter was settled exactly like that.
No one bothered to ask for my opinion, not even my biological father.
But I was already completely numb to it. Ever since my father cheated on my mother with my stepmother while they were still married, leading to my mother’s passing, I knew he was morally bankrupt and utterly blind.
…
The very next day, Brad Miller arrived with expensive gifts to formally propose.
He had decent enough features, but there was a feral, aggressive glint in his eyes that screamed he wasn’t someone to be messed with.
Because he lacked formal education, he spoke bluntly and crudely.
Especially during lunch; he smacked his lips, drank soup straight from the serving spoon, and sprayed food everywhere when he talked.
The way he looked at Chloe was filled with undisguised lust.
After a few drinks, he even took the liberty of wrapping his arm around her waist and giving it a few strokes.
Instantly, a suspicious blush spread across Chloe’s face, her eyes practically sparkling with affection.
She was turned on.
My parents’ faces darkened. Their disgust was practically spilling out of their eyes.
They simply couldn’t understand why their perfectly raised daughter was so eager to throw her life away.
I kept my head down, sipping my soup, hiding a mocking smirk.
The reason was incredibly simple. In her past life, she had married the billionaire and suffered three years as a “living widow.”
The billionaire was an absolute workaholic. He worked non-stop, flying all over the world, day in and day out. Aside from the $50 million monthly allowance, there was zero companionship. You could count the number of times they ate dinner together on one hand.
Let alone any kind of marital intimacy.
Brad Miller, on the other hand, might be crude, but he was built like a tank. Thick chest hair peeked out from his unbuttoned shirt.
One look and you knew he had physical stamina to spare.
How could she not love that!
Brad had too much to drink, and Chloe personally helped him up to her bedroom. It was quite a while before she came back down.
Her clothes were slightly rumpled, and there was a fresh hickey on her neck.
She really couldn’t wait, could she?
My stepmother’s face was grim. “Chloe, Brad Miller is no good. He really isn’t!”
Chloe, looking thoroughly satisfied, replied, “Mom, you don’t understand. He’s very good. He’s really good!”
My father frowned, echoing the disapproval.
“He’s just an uneducated brute. Ethan Vance is infinitely better. I’ve met him; his refinement, his manners, the way he handles himself—”
Before he could finish, Chloe cut him off.
“Dad, you don’t know what you’re talking about! Brad is perfect!” She shot me a hostile glare. “Sister, don’t tell me you’re plotting to steal him? Let me tell you, don’t even think about it!”
The smile on my lips was harder to suppress than the recoil of an AK-47.
“Don’t worry! I absolutely will not fight you for Brad Miller. He is all yours!”
To prevent her from getting suspicious, I raised my hand and swore an oath.
“The man I love is Ethan Vance. I fell in love with him at first sight. In this life, it’s him or no one!”
Chloe looked suspicious. “Really? He’s a total workaholic. All he does is work, work, work. You’d be lucky to see him once a month!”
I spouted nonsense effortlessly: “Of course!
“He’s a man! He should prioritize his career. Plus, he has so many employees relying on him, he has to work hard for them!
“If he doesn’t have time, I have time! When the time comes, I’ll just go get a job at his company. Then we can be together day and night.”
3
“You like me that much?”
A cool, detached male voice, tinged with a hint of surprise, suddenly rang out.
I turned my head toward the sound.
Ethan Vance stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp, high-end black suit, flanked by four bodyguards carrying piles of lavish gifts.
With the sun at his back, he looked as if he were glowing.
He was devastatingly handsome.
I knew he was handsome in my past life, but I didn’t realize he was this handsome.
I swallowed hard, glanced at Chloe who was glaring at me like a hawk, and had no choice but to nod.
“Yes, very much.”
The corners of Ethan’s lips lifted slightly, and his gaze softened.
“Good. I understand.”
I gave an awkward but polite smile.
How did I forget that he also came on this exact day in our past life? He came straight from the airport to propose.
Back then, he was as cold as a block of ice. Facing Chloe, his expression didn’t change at all; he looked at her like a stranger.
But then again, my sister hadn’t been very nice with her words back then.
She complained that he arrived too late, that he wasn’t happy enough, and that he didn’t respect her.
She even nitpicked the gifts, saying he didn’t pick them out himself and that it was too half-hearted.
A woman who acts that entitled is naturally going to be thoroughly unlikable to a real, powerful CEO.
“Mr. Vance! It must have been a tiring journey, please, come sit!” My father’s smile was incredibly sycophantic. “You mentioned before that you wouldn’t arrive until the evening, which is why I didn’t personally go to pick you up. I’m truly sorry.”
My stepmother also personally brewed tea and brought it over, her posture submissive and ingratiating.
Ethan leaned back against the sofa, looking relaxed and confident.
It was as if this was his home turf, his presence commanding the room.
“Yes, I resolved the business matters early, so I took the private jet back.”
He turned his head to look at me.
“You can plan the wedding however you like. Money is no object.
“I’ll set aside a day at the end of the month to finalize everything.
“How does that sound?”
Although phrased as a question, his commanding aura made it impossible to refuse.
In my past life, Chloe had taken full control of the planning. She threw a billion-dollar “wedding of the century” that shocked the entire city, inviting every major power player and aristocrat in our circle.
It caused my father’s company stock to surge.
This time? In your dreams!
“Since you’re so busy, there’s really no need for a massive wedding. We can just go get our marriage license and be done with it.”
Hearing this, a flash of astonishment crossed Ethan’s usually cool, composed eyes.
My father immediately interjected, refusing flat out: “No, absolutely not! The wedding must be a grand affair!”
I pretended to be perfectly innocent and naive.
“But Ethan’s work is so demanding. A wedding is just a formality anyway.
“It’s a waste of time and an extravagant waste of money. It’s really unnecessary.
“I’d much prefer to just simply get our marriage certificate and have a quiet dinner together in the evening. That’s more than enough for me.”
4
“Alright, we’ll do it your way.” Ethan looked at me with a newfound gentleness, his tone full of approval. “When the time comes, I’ll clear a whole day to spend with you.”
I put on a shy expression, a convenient blush rising to my cheeks.
His lips curved upwards; he was clearly in a good mood.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I bought you a variety of designer bags. Do you have a preferred style?”
It seemed my performance just now had thoroughly pleased him, prompting him to actively ask about my preferences.
I answered happily: “I’m just thrilled to receive any gift from you! I’m not picky at all! Thank you.”
He looked at me with even greater satisfaction.
Who could reject a girl who isn’t greedy and is easy to please?
He sat for another five minutes before standing up to leave.
“The billionaire is truly generous. Everything is a limited edition,” my stepmother sighed with regret as she unwrapped the gifts.
Such a phenomenal man should have belonged to her daughter. The endless wealth and luxury would have been guaranteed.
Chloe snorted coldly, her face full of disdain.
“What’s the use of having money if you only see him a few times a year? It’s just being a living widow.
“Brad has money and no demanding job. He can stay by my side every single day. That’s better than anything.”
Hearing this, my stepmother nodded in agreement, finding logic in her words.
Even if she disagreed, it was too late to back out now. After all, they had all seen how satisfied Ethan was with me.
My father then turned his anger toward me.
“You unlucky jinx! Who told you to say you didn’t want a wedding?
“Call him right now. Tell him you changed your mind, that the wedding must be a massive event. I need everyone to know I am the father-in-law of a billionaire!
“Do you have any idea how many contracts I could sign, how much money I could make?!”
From the corner of my eye, I glanced at my stepmother and Chloe, who were busy dividing up the gifts.
With a half-smile, I said, “Sure. I’ll tell him later that we need a grand wedding so everyone knows how well I’m doing and that I married a billionaire.”
Chloe was an incredibly vain person; she always needed to be one step above me in everything.
Hearing this, she immediately threw a fit.
“Dad, you really shouldn’t let her have a wedding. If she does, no one will pay attention to mine!”
My stepmother chimed in to agree: “Yes, exactly. And the fact that you’re the billionaire’s father-in-law will be public knowledge sooner or later. There’s no need to rush it right this second.”
My father, blinded by his doting on them, hesitated for a moment before agreeing.
Chloe shot me a smug, triumphant smile.
The corners of my mouth lifted in a mocking sneer.
Brad Miller might be easy to manipulate, but his family is full of absolute monsters.
Once she marries into that house, she’s in for a world of pain.
5
Just like in our past life, Chloe’s wedding was a lavish, over-the-top affair.
But the scale still paled in comparison to the wedding she had with Ethan.
The gap between a true billionaire and a newly rich thug was significant. Brad simply didn’t have the deep pockets required for a billion-dollar aristocratic wedding.
Consequently, Chloe had to fork over thirty million of her own money just to barely meet her expectations.
Only then did the wedding look luxurious enough.
However, Brad’s mother and sister looked furious, feeling that she was incredibly wasteful and arrogant.
Those women were the type to find fault even when you were perfectly polite.
Now that she had actually given them a reason, they were definitely not going to let it go.
And Brad, while a total mama’s boy, was also completely hands-off. He didn’t care about anything.
Chloe was completely oblivious to all this, smugly showing off to me.
“A woman needs a romantic, beautiful wedding, right? Otherwise, isn’t her life a complete waste?
“So what if you found a rich man? Just holding onto his money while living like a widow?
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sister, I truly pity you!”
I immediately began to spout absolute nonsense with a straight face.
“Tell me about it. Sister, I am so jealous of you. You and your husband will be joined at the hip.”
She proudly lifted her chin, arrogant and domineering.
“Glad you know it. This time, you will be crushed beneath my feet!”
I smirked mockingly, watching as she eagerly rushed to the stage to exchange rings.
Before the officiant even had the chance to announce the kiss…
Brad already had his arms around Chloe, kissing her passionately, their lips locked tight.
If the officiant hadn’t reacted quickly, Brad’s hand would have been straight down her wedding dress.
And she had her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor!
The guests below watched in stunned silence.
My father and stepmother’s faces flushed beet red with embarrassment. The persona they had carefully crafted for Chloe was that of a pure, innocent, refined heiress.
Hah.
To pretend to be pure, one must actually be pure.
…
Right after the wedding ended, I received a call from Ethan.
“What kind of wedding do you want?”
His voice was cool, laced with a hint of exhaustion.
I asked in confusion, “What do you mean? Didn’t we agree not to have a wedding?”
Fearing he might regret it, I quickly added:
“Your work is so demanding. A wedding is really unnecessary. It’s exhausting and pointless.”
I spoke with absolute, unwavering certainty.
A wedding feels like being a performing monkey in a circus. Having experienced it once in my past life, I absolutely refused to do it again.
Besides, a wedding would only serve to make my father’s company insanely rich.
That was absolutely out of the question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a wedding?”
Ethan asked again.
I blurted out: “Yes, I don’t want one! Where did you hear that I did?”
“My secretary attended your sister’s wedding. She said she heard you say you were jealous of her.”
Me: “…”
6
Ethan’s voice carried a hint of apology.
“I’ve made you suffer a grievance regarding this. How would you like me to make it up to you?”
I froze for a second, then a massive, toothy grin spread across my face.
How much money does a billionaire’s “make-up” gift equal?
This torrential downpour of wealth was finally hitting me!
I licked my lips. My standard monthly allowance was $50 million. Asking for a small target of $100 million shouldn’t be too much, right?
But outwardly, I spoke with fake humility: “It’s fine. You work so hard just for our family. I already feel bad enough that I can’t help you.
“As long as you eat your meals on time, and message me when you’re free, I’ll be completely satisfied.”
If he doesn’t eat on time and his health deteriorates, how many months of that $50 million allowance would I lose?
Just texting me occasionally to let me know he’s not dead is enough.
I was waiting for him to politely decline, anticipating a few rounds of back-and-forth before stating my actual request.
Instead, he spoke slowly.
“Since you want to keep me company so badly, why don’t you come to work with me from now on?”
Me: “…”
He looked down at me: “Tomorrow is the end of the month. I’ll pick you up in the morning, we’ll go to City Hall to get our marriage license first.
“Then I’ll take you to the company, and we can work together.”
I’m getting $50 million a month, why the hell would I go to work?!
If I save up for three or four years, I’ll have enough cash to just buy out my father’s company outright. Wouldn’t that be infinitely easier?
I tactfully declined: “I’m really clumsy. I’m afraid I’ll interfere with your work.”
He replied with confident authority: “Don’t underestimate me, and don’t underestimate yourself!”
Hearing this, an inexplicable emotion welled up in my chest.
When my mother was still alive, she told me that a person’s life has infinite possibilities.
She taught me to read, to study, and to distinguish right from wrong.
But later, when my father cheated on her, everyone blamed my mother, saying she was too domineering and too smart, not a proper submissive wife.
My mother fell into a deep depression and eventually left this world.
Before she died, she told me that this world is unfair to girls, and that living a plain, ordinary life was the best way to protect myself.
I listened to my mother’s advice.
I stopped striving for first place. When interacting with friends, I started playing dumb, and I did indeed feel their goodwill.
7
Ethan was very punctual. He appeared at my door exactly at 9:00 AM.
Gold-rimmed glasses, a black suit, holding a bouquet of vibrant red roses, with a Maybach waiting behind him.
His voice was deep and gentle: “Evelyn, good morning.”
In that moment, he looked exactly like the male lead straight out of a romance novel.
I swallowed hard and said demurely, “Good morning.”
He had thoughtfully prepared bread and coffee for me.
He was driving this time. His driving was very steady, but he simultaneously took three international calls, four company calls, and three calls from board members.
He didn’t pause his work until we stepped into City Hall to take our photos.
The life of a CEO is just that busy and unglamorous.
Handsome people always look good in ID photos, which unfortunately made me look a bit subpar in comparison.
“Do you want to take a photo to post on Instagram?” Ethan asked, noticing me staring at our marriage certificate.
I was just about to say no need.
When I saw him pull out his phone, take a quick picture, and post it to his own Instagram.
The efficiency of a CEO is truly something else.
So, I was obligated to post one too.
For the sake of my $50 million allowance, I carefully crafted a caption.
First time showing off my love, still getting the hang of it.
He looked at me with deep satisfaction.
Finally, he brought up the topic of my living expenses.
“From now on, I’ll give you a $50 million monthly allowance. Buy whatever you want.”
I suppressed my intense excitement, eagerly waiting for his next sentence.
He looked at me and cleared his throat softly: “My promise to take you to work with me still stands.
“We’re heading to the company now to get your onboarding sorted.”
If offending my golden goose means losing my $50 million, what choice do I have?
I smiled and nodded: “Sounds great!”
…
Although I already knew Ethan was incredibly wealthy and powerful.
But when I saw his corporate campus, I was still mildly shocked.
His office occupied an entire floor, complete with a garden, a swimming pool, and a helipad.
I casually complimented: “These flowers are beautiful!”
Ethan nodded: “I have a villa in the western suburbs with a massive greenhouse perfect for growing flowers. I’ll transfer the deed to you.”
Instantly, my eyes lit up.
Sure enough, hanging out with a billionaire means you get even more!
So, while shadowing his executive assistant, I was as pumped as if I’d been injected with chicken blood.
However, there wasn’t much actual hands-on work. It mostly involved typing up documents, pouring coffee, and attending banquets with him.
The previous assistant was male, and the entire executive assistant team that interacted with Ethan was entirely male.
This was truly a bizarre corporate culture.
In my past life, Chloe had stormed into his office several times, convinced he was having an affair with a female employee.
When she couldn’t find any evidence, she started claiming he was gay.
She spoke with such conviction back then that even I had my doubts.
But watching him work, with that intense focus and the literal sparkle in his eyes…
He truly, genuinely just loved working!
8
On our wedding night, Ethan worked overtime until past 1:00 AM.
Meanwhile, I was in the adjacent room, eating crawfish, chugging soda, and watching movies, happy as a clam.
When he finished his work, he looked apologetic: “Sorry, I got caught up in work and forgot I promised to spend the whole day with you.”
I smiled brightly, shoving a crawfish into my mouth.
“It’s fine, I’m having a great time eating. Are you done? Do you want to join me for a bit?”
It was only after I spoke that I realized there were only a few crawfish left.
The table was covered in a mountain of shells.
Feeling a bit awkward, I reached out to clear the mess, but he rolled up his white dress shirt sleeves and put on plastic gloves over his long, elegant fingers.
He began to slowly and methodically peel the crawfish.
And placed the meat into my bowl.
I was shocked and quickly said: “No, no, it’s fine, I can do it myself!”
He chuckled softly: “I’m quite good at peeling them.
“When I was a kid, I always peeled crawfish for my mom. If I was too slow, she’d scold me.
“I need to practice, otherwise I won’t be able to keep up with how fast you and my mom eat, and I’ll get scolded again.”
In that moment, he didn’t seem like a domineering CEO at all, but rather like the sweet boy next door.
After he finished peeling the crawfish, he even cleaned up the garbage and took the trash bag downstairs to throw away.
Didn’t Chloe say in my past life that he was incredibly aloof and hard to get along with?
That he’d only come home once every few weeks and wouldn’t speak a single word during dinner?
But I felt he was incredibly approachable and easy to get along with!
Especially when it came time to sleep at night; I felt a bit awkward and shy.
He very naturally wrapped his arm around my waist.
Incredibly gentle.
…
The more time we spent together, the more I realized Ethan was an absolute treasure.
He didn’t smoke, he didn’t drink, he was rigorous at work, and he treated his subordinates with respect and consideration.
More importantly, once he found out I had a Master’s degree in Finance, he started assigning me to project teams.
Originally, I just wanted to be a benchwarmer and kill time.
But he would dedicate half an hour every day to explain things to me, and he arranged for me to attend various top-tier economic salons.
Before I could even fully digest all the information, he had me participating in executive board meetings.
I felt incredibly unqualified and tried to decline: “I’m just a secretary, and I’ve only been here half a month. It’s not appropriate!”
He handed me a thick file, with all the key points highlighted.
“Stop hiding your potential. Show them what you’re truly capable of.”
I pretended to be clueless: “Huh? What capability?”
Ethan chuckled: “I also graduated from A University with a degree in Finance. Do you think I don’t know the caliber of their graduate students?
“Your major course grades were top ten in your class, but your overall GPA always hovered around thirtieth. Your grade manipulation was too obvious.
“It took my previous executive assistant three years to learn my working habits. You analyzed and perfected a system for them in one week.”
I looked at him in stunned silence.
I thought I had hidden it so well, but he had seen right through me from the very beginning.
“Don’t bury your talent. You have infinite possibilities.”
After saying that, as he brushed past me, he patted my shoulder.
“I’ll be waiting for you in the conference room.”
9
In my past life, I listened to my mother’s advice and lived a plain, peaceful life.
But I wasn’t happy.
So I pushed open the conference room doors, met the intense gazes of everyone inside.
I stood at the podium and spoke with confidence and eloquence.
Life rarely gives us do-overs, but heaven gave me this chance.
I won’t waste it again!
When the meeting ended, Ethan was the first to applaud. From the approval and admiration in his eyes, I knew I had done well.
From then on, I was no longer responsible for serving tea, pouring water, or printing documents.
I began managing projects and became a team lead.
Just as I was busy working at full throttle, I received a call from my stepmother demanding I come home for dinner.
This was a first in both my lifetimes.
As soon as I walked through the door, I heard Chloe’s angry, venomous cursing.
“That old hag is completely insane! She wakes me up at 4:30 every morning to cook for the whole family!
“And her sister is a little bitch too! Always spending my husband’s money and instigating fights between me and that old hag.
“Brad is usually fine, but whenever something happens, he’s never around!”
Her summary was incredibly accurate. To bring them to heel in my past life, I had to expend a massive amount of effort.
For example, when making breakfast in the morning, I would wake the entire household up. Not even the dog got to sleep.
When the sister spent money to stir up trouble, I would play the weak, pitiful victim, perfectly executing the “innocent white flower” routine, manipulating the situation flawlessly.
Within a week, the entire Miller household was completely subdued and quiet.
But Chloe was spoiled and used to having everything go her way. The moment things got slightly difficult, she threw a tantrum.
At most, in two months, Brad’s patience will run out.
When that time comes, her “true love” will be gone, leaving behind nothing but trivial, endless domestic warfare.
And Brad is not nearly as agreeable as Ethan.
If she tries to bring up divorce, she’ll lose a layer of skin trying to escape.
“They are so shameless! I’m going over there right now to let them know the Davis family is not to be messed with!”
My stepmother’s face was red with anger. The moment she saw me, she immediately directed her fury at me.
“You ungrateful wretch! I raised you for nothing! You get married and don’t even come home!
“Your sister is being bullied like this, and you act like nothing is wrong. What’s the use of you marrying a billionaire? You’re completely useless.”
Her words were incredibly harsh.
My father sat on the sofa, not even lifting an eyelid.
Chloe looked at me with pure mockery.
This was the standard routine in this house.
However, I was no longer the person I used to be.
I smirked, “Stepmother, you misspoke, didn’t you? The useless one is your daughter.
“She chose her husband herself. She can’t handle her mother-in-law, she can’t control her sister-in-law. It’s all her own incompetence, which means you failed to raise her right.
“Instead of blaming her and reflecting on yourself, what does any of this have to do with me?”
10
The living room fell dead silent for a few seconds.
Then, my father’s furious roar erupted.
“Evelyn Davis, who taught you to speak like that?! Apologize to your mother and sister right now!”
I smiled slightly, a mix of mockery and contempt.
“Why should I apologize? What did I say wrong?
“If anyone needs to apologize, it’s you! I am your biological daughter, and you just sat there, watching her bully and insult me without saying a single word!
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Being a father like this, you really are pathetic.”
My father’s face instantly turned stark white with rage, the veins on his forehead bulging.
“You animal! You dare speak to your father like that?!”
Saying that, he raised his hand and swung a harsh slap toward me.
I immediately grabbed Chloe, who was standing nearby enjoying the show, and yanked her right in front of me.
I used her to block the slap!
My father’s strike was so forceful it sent her stumbling, her head smashing hard against the glass coffee table.
“Ahhhhh—”
Chloe’s agonizing scream echoed through the entire mansion.
“You animal! Who told you to dodge?! I am going to beat you to death today!”
My father, his eyes bloodshot, charged forward like a madman, intent on killing me.
My stepmother also blocked my path of escape, glaring at me with sheer hatred.
They were like vicious wolves and tigers.
Just as I braced myself to take the beating, prepared to go to the hospital for an injury report and then call the police…
The main doors were pushed open, and Ethan descended like a god.
His furious voice boomed.
“If there is even a single scratch on Evelyn, you will all pay with your lives!”
If it were any other day, I would have thought that line was incredibly cliché and melodramatic.
Today, it sounded like the music of heaven.
The man who, a second ago, wanted to murder me, instantly replaced his fury with a fawning, sycophantic smile.
“Son-in-law, please don’t misunderstand, we were just joking around!”
I immediately backhanded him across the face.
“Yes, we are just joking around.”
My father’s face flushed bright red, his eyes spitting fire, but he forced a stiff, awkward smile onto his face.
Ethan’s voice was like ice, chilling to the bone.
“You better be!”
My father groveled: “Of course we are. Son-in-law, aren’t you usually very busy with work? How do you have time to visit today?”
Ethan completely ignored him, anxiously looking me up and down.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
I shook my head: “No, you arrived just in time.”
Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief. He took my hand and strode out the door.
It wasn’t until we were in his car that I finally snapped back to reality.
I asked curiously, “Why did you suddenly show up here?”
He handed me a file.
“The client moved the launch time up to midnight. There are still a few data points on the project that need confirmation. I couldn’t reach you on your phone, so I came looking for you.”
Me: “…”
The man riding in on a white horse might be Prince Charming.
Or it might be your boss.
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After three years of marriage, my husband had always treated me with gentle affection, yet I was the one who finally asked for a divorce.
That night, he was like a completely different person, backing me into a corner. “Give me a reason.”
I was trembling like a leaf. “I… I want to have a baby of my own.”
His eyes darkened, and he let out a low, cold laugh. “Are you blaming me for not performing my duties?”
1
Alexander Sterling was always busy.
Whenever it got too late, I’d call him, worried. “When are you coming home?”
Sometimes it was loud on his end, like he was playing poker or at a loud bar. He’d exchange a few words with his friends, then find a second to answer me. “Don’t wait up. Go to sleep.”
I never knew what else to say, so I’d just say okay.
Before hanging up, he’d always thoughtfully say goodnight, and I’d politely reply, “Thank you.”
I’m a light sleeper. I always knew when he came home, but I pretended to be asleep. Sometimes, I even hoped he would slide over from behind, wrap his arms around me, and show some warmth.
But the reality was, every single time, he was as still as a monk, leaving me with a racing heart and a sleepless night.
2
Marrying Alexander was a complete accident.
Three years ago, my parents were relentlessly pressuring me to get married. After I rejected blind date after blind date, they started getting aggressive, telling me that if I didn’t find someone soon, all the good men would be taken.
I was swamped with work every day. One time, to brush them off, I just blurted out, “Don’t worry, I already have a boyfriend.”
Who knew they would take it seriously? They immediately FaceTimed me, demanding to see what he looked like.
And right at that moment, Alexander happened to walk past my camera. My parents excitedly yelled, “He’s so handsome! Looks very put-together too. Look at those glutes, I guarantee you two will have three kids in three years.”
Even though I spent the next few minutes desperately explaining, “He’s my boss!”
My parents had already mentally written an entire “Billionaire CEO Falls for Me” romance novel in their heads.
I couldn’t defend myself.
What happened next was completely out of my control.
I have no idea how my parents managed to contact Alexander, but when I saw him standing in my parents’ living room, I was absolutely stunned.
Alexander adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses with a long, elegant finger, his voice deep. “Your boyfriend?”
My parents were smiling warmly at the two of us. I was riding a tiger and couldn’t get off. I figured I might as well double down and placate the old folks first.
So, under the table, I tugged on the seam of his pants, signaling him to help me out. Alexander glanced down, raised an eyebrow, and surprisingly played along. “I thought you told them we were planning to get married.”
Married???
I couldn’t process this. I kept shooting him looks. Okay, you’ve acted enough, don’t take it too far!
Predictably, my parents exploded with joy, hugging each other and crying happy tears.
And then, somehow, in a total daze, I ended up at City Hall getting a marriage license with Alexander Sterling.
As for our married life… how do I put this? We had plenty of domestic bliss, but zero passion.
The Alexander who was a ruthless, decisive CEO at the office was so gentle at home he could drown you in it.
But it had been three years. We were husband and wife in name only. We had never actually slept together.
3
Tonight was the company dinner. A new male subordinate kept toasting me. Feeling a bit down, I had a few too many. When I came out of the restroom, the subordinate cornered me.
“Claire, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I waved my hand, but bile was rising in my throat. “Your name is Mason, right?”
“You have a great memory, Claire.”
Mason had just graduated college. His skin was flawless, his face young and inexperienced, and his eyes practically sparkled. Youth is truly something to envy.
“Keep up the good work.” I tried to walk past him, but my legs gave out, and I almost fell. Mason quickly caught me.
It was in that moment of support that I realized something was wrong.
I immediately pulled away from him. Mason didn’t try to hide it at all. “Claire, you’re really cute when you’re drunk.”
A young guy’s intentions aren’t hard to guess, especially when he’s not trying to hide them.
I replied, “Even if I am, it has nothing to do with you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, our company has a strict policy against office romances.”
After saying that, I headed back to the private room.
Halfway down the hall, I ran straight into Alexander.
He gave me a look as he walked past and muttered, “Lightweight. You get drunk and then you’re going to cause a scene when we get home.”
I usually don’t smoke or drink, but at every company dinner, I love to indulge.
I had been drunk quite a few times before, though I always blacked out. I only knew snippets of what happened from what Alexander told me—
Like the time I hugged him and called him “Daddy.”
Though sometimes, apparently, I also called him “my good boy.”
4
The alcohol hit me hard later. By the time the dinner ended, my feet felt like they were floating on clouds.
Since everyone had been drinking, people were either calling designated drivers or Ubers. Someone asked me, “Claire, how are you getting home?”
I instinctively glanced over at Alexander out of the corner of my eye. “I’m taking an Uber too.”
Everyone said their goodbyes and left. Seeing no one familiar around, I quickly slid into Alexander’s car.
The next second, a voice piped up from the back seat. “Claire, you’re heading this way too?”
I was shocked. I turned around and saw Mason leaning forward excitedly. I looked at Alexander in bewilderment. Why is this kid here???
Alexander started the car, his tone nonchalant. “One more word and you can crawl home.”
Mason snapped his mouth shut. He asked Alexander, “Uncle Alex, can I stay at your place tonight? I really don’t want to stay in a hotel anymore, it doesn’t feel like home at all. My parents don’t even know I sneaked back to the States. You know they just want me to stay in Europe and develop the market there.”
Uncle???
Wait, he’s staying at our place?
My head was spinning. I felt like throwing up.
Mason leaned his head forward worriedly. “Claire, are you not feeling well? Where do you live? Let Uncle Alex drop you off first.”
5
I chose silence. Alexander chose to ignore him.
Not long after, I fell asleep.
I woke up later to the sound of Mason’s voice.
Alexander was carrying me to the bedroom, and Mason was hovering behind him, nervously rambling. “Uncle Alex, is this really okay? We just brought a drunk woman home and put her in your bed… shouldn’t we wake her up and take her home?”
I was already awake, but I pretended to be asleep.
After all, I had just righteously lectured the kid about “no office romances.” As his direct supervisor, I absolutely could not lose my authority.
Alexander placed me on the bed, pulled the covers over me, and turned to leave. Mason quickly backed out of the room as well.
My body felt like jelly. I propped myself up and pressed my ear against the crack in the door. Alexander didn’t entertain any nonsense; he just told Mason to take a shower and sleep in the guest room.
Mason asked, “Then where are you going to sleep?”
Alexander replied, “That’s none of your concern.”
Not daring to say another word, Mason obediently went to shower and was back in his room within minutes.
I was bursting to pee. I threw open the door and bolted for the bathroom, taking a quick shower while I was at it.
When I came out, I saw Alexander leaning back on the sofa, eyes closed.
I stopped in my tracks on the way back to my room.
What was the point of our marriage to him?
We only had a marriage license; no wedding, I’d never met his extended family, and hardly anyone knew about our relationship.
I wasn’t rich, and he clearly wasn’t after my body.
But I was different. I had agreed to the fake marriage to dodge the endless pressure from my parents, but after three years of living together, I had long since started lusting after him.
Whatever, I had the marriage license in hand. Sleeping with him was perfectly legal, right?
Taking advantage of the liquid courage still coursing through my veins, I decided to exercise my rights as a wife.
6
My legs gave out, and I practically threw myself at Alexander. He slowly opened his eyes, looking down at me through dark lashes. “What are you trying to do now?”
“My head hurts.” I simply rested my head against his chest. “I don’t think I can stand up. Can you carry me to the bedroom?”
Alexander raised an eyebrow, the depths of his eyes swirling with an unfathomable emotion. “Are you sure?”
I swallowed hard. My hands rebelliously climbed up to the back of his neck, and I leaned in to kiss his lips.
The next second, a large hand clamped down over my puckered lips. Alexander warned in a low voice, “We have a guest in the house. Behave yourself tonight.”
I leaned closer to his ear, keeping my voice low too. “Don’t you think it’s more exciting because there’s a guest?”
Alexander frowned, his gaze locked onto me without blinking.
My cheeks were burning. Shamelessly, I pushed further. “Anyway, I’m drunk. I won’t remember a thing tomorrow morning.”
“Claire, do you know what you’re saying right now?”
Alexander’s tone was stern, his eyes growing darker. The hand restraining my wrists slowly tightened. I whined, “That hurts,” and he let out what sounded like a low chuckle. “That hurts?”
His tone was so gentle, yet his eyes were dark and dangerous.
I felt a bit scared and tried to pull my hands back, complaining softly, “When I got drunk before, did you always bully me like this?”
He didn’t let go, a half-smile on his lips. “Who knows? Maybe I did worse things. After all, you won’t remember anything tomorrow anyway.”
He was teasing me. My temper flared, and I challenged him. “Then I can bully you today too.”
And then, fueled by the alcohol, I started getting handsy…
Alexander tried to stop me, but I was being too chaotic. He was getting a bit flustered. Just as the two of us were tangled together in a mess, the guest room door handle clicked…
Almost instantly, Alexander scooped me up into his arms, his long legs striding quickly toward the master bedroom.
7
As soon as Alexander kicked the door shut and locked it, I heard Mason’s voice from the living room. “Uncle Alex?”
He called out a few times, then silence.
It was eerily quiet outside. Separated only by a thin wooden door, Alexander held me pinned against it, making absolutely no sound.
I covered my mouth to muffle a giggle. Alexander looked down at me. “Funny?”
I nodded, deliberately teasing him. “Say, if I yelled ‘Help!’ right now, would your nephew come bursting in?”
Alexander raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered. “Why not give it a try and see?”
Well…
Okay, I didn’t dare.
He was always like this. It seemed like nothing could threaten him; he was always so perfectly composed.
He had no sense of romance. I suddenly lost the mood, slipped out of his arms, and flopped onto the bed in three quick steps, closing my eyes to sleep.
Suddenly, a soft blanket landed on my rear end.
Alexander looked down at my nightgown. “You’re exposed.”
Gee, thanks!
“You’re no fun!” I muffled my head in the pillow and mumbled, “I’m starting to think you don’t even like women!”
Alexander leaned down, whispering right into my ear, “You don’t need to doubt that. I am 100% not into men.”
I was even more annoyed now. I flipped over angrily. “So you’re implying I’m just not attractive enough?!”
As soon as the words left my mouth, my face flushed bright red.
Alexander’s face was inches from mine, his eyes staring at me with a casual intensity.
I awkwardly looked away, kicking myself for losing my nerve at the crucial moment.
By my ear, Alexander’s voice was low. “How much did you drink tonight?”
“…Not much.”
“If you ever drink like this again, I’m going to have to enforce household rules.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Household rules?”
Since when did we have those?
Alexander smirked, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Try drinking like this again and you’ll find out.”
I felt a bit intimidated. It sounded serious.
I pushed gently against his chest. “Aren’t you going out to sleep?”
“No need.” He stood up, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. “Do you think my nephew is stupid enough not to know where I am right now?”
True.
I stared at the straight lines of his back, feeling that familiar itch again.
Alexander didn’t even turn around. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not getting me tonight.”
Damn it!
8
When I woke up the next morning, Alexander was already out of bed.
Opening the bedroom door, I saw Mason. He gave me a look—a look that practically screamed he knew exactly what was going on.
Alexander made breakfast, and we ate in a very quiet atmosphere.
After we got to the office, Mason’s client was still not completely satisfied with the proposal. Mason was new, so he asked me to come along and meet the client to resolve the issue once and for all.
On the way there, Mason finally broke the silence. “Our whole family knows you’re married to my uncle.”
“Mhm.” I kept my eyes on the road.
Mason asked, puzzled, “You don’t mind?”
I smiled, checking the traffic. “That’s exactly why I decided to marry him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to deal with complicated mother-in-law dynamics, and I don’t want to have kids. Being completely detached from his family means I don’t have to deal with any of that.”
Actually, that was only half true.
I really hadn’t wanted to get married or have kids initially. Getting a marriage license with Alexander on a whim was definitely to avoid the endless pressure from my parents, but it was also because I wouldn’t have to interact with his family.
My explanation to my parents at the time was that I was marrying Alexander the person, not his family. We weren’t planning on having a wedding, and there was no need for our parents to meet. As long as we lived happily, that was enough.
My parents couldn’t convince me otherwise, and since they were incredibly impressed with Alexander, they reluctantly accepted our “modern” views on marriage.
But now…
All those initial reasons had turned into a massive question mark in my mind.
Mason was silent for a moment before speaking up again. “But I don’t think my uncle married you because he loves you.”
My heart skipped a beat. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and laughed. “Is it because I’m so irresistible he just couldn’t help himself?”
Mason let out a dry laugh. “Claire, you’re slumming it with my uncle.”
I clicked my tongue. “Stop calling me Claire. Call me Aunt Claire.”
Mason stubbornly looked out the window. “It’s either Claire or your full name. Take your pick.”
Wow, this kid… needs a good smack.
9
The point person at the client’s company was a beautiful woman. When she saw Mason, she greeted him familiarly. “Mason, your mom told me yesterday she couldn’t reach you. You still haven’t told them you’re back?”
“Rachel, please don’t tell them. I want a few more days of freedom.”
“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”
The two seemed to know each other well. Mason introduced us. “Claire, this is Rachel.”
I reached out politely. “Hello, Claire Bennett. Nice to meet you.”
Rachel gave my hand a weak shake and led Mason toward her office.
I understood now. The contract Mason secured was largely due to personal connections. I followed them inside.
Just before entering the office, I heard Rachel ask Mason, “Why didn’t your uncle come with you?”
10
I instinctively looked at Rachel. Mason shot me a nervous glance and stammered, “Rachel, my uncle is busy. Claire is my manager. If you need any changes, telling her is the same thing.”
Rachel’s lips twisted in a disappointed pout. “I see. Well, let’s wait until your uncle has time then. I’m not in a hurry anyway.”
She sank into her leather chair and started chatting with Mason about family matters.
She completely ignored my presence.
I understood now. Her repeated dissatisfaction with the proposal was just an excuse. What she really wanted was to see Alexander.
“Ms. Rachel, I’ll pass your message along to Mr. Sterling. We won’t take up any more of your time today.”
I smiled and glanced at Mason. “Let’s go.”
With that, I turned and headed for the door.
“Mason and I haven’t finished catching up. Mason, you stay. We’ll grab lunch later.”
Rachel was very assertive, her tone dripping with arrogance.
I stopped in my tracks but didn’t say anything. After a moment, I looked back at Mason.
Perhaps intimidated by my glare, Mason shrank back, hurriedly gathered his files, and followed me. “Rachel, I’m going to head out. I’ll… I’ll treat you to lunch some other time.”
Rachel frowned in disbelief, shooting a death glare our way.
I offered a polite smile in return and walked out with Mason trailing behind me.
11
Mason had been at the company for less than a month, but he definitely knew my temper.
On the drive back, I didn’t say a single word.
Mason finally came clean. “Rachel is my uncle’s ex-girlfriend. They were childhood sweethearts. Three years ago, they suddenly broke up for some unknown reason. Now Rachel is back from Europe and wants to rekindle things, but they’re both too proud…”
“So Rachel was just looking for an excuse to get him to come to her?”
“Yes.”
I let out a laugh. Grown adults acting this childish.
When we got back to the office, Alexander cornered me near the restrooms.
“I heard the moment I walked in that you went to Rachel’s company?”
“Yeah, I went.”
I stood calmly in front of him. Alexander could always see right through me. “You saw Rachel?”
“Yeah, I saw her. She’s very pretty.”
I turned to leave, but he suddenly grabbed my arm. “Are you mad?”
I didn’t look up. “She didn’t do anything to me. Why would I be mad?”
I went back to my desk to keep working.
But I never expected that right before the end of the day, the company Slack channel would explode!
“Claire, look at the group chat!” Mason alerted me.
Surprised, I opened the chat window, and the next second, I was stunned.
Someone had secretly taken photos of Alexander and me “arguing” by the restrooms, and posted several pictures of me getting out of Alexander’s car and following him into his apartment building.
The chat was dead silent.
But everyone was looking at me with thinly veiled mockery.
I could hear the whispers—
“No wonder she became a department manager at such a young age. She slept her way to the top.”
“Always acting so high and mighty. Turns out she’s got the big boss backing her!”
“Look at that pathetic, clingy posture. She really knows how to manipulate a man.”
I quietly clenched my fists. Mason whispered beside me, trying to comfort me, “Claire, don’t listen to their nonsense. Do you want me to tell them about your relationship with my uncle…?”
“Mind your own business.” I continued processing the paperwork in front of me.
Mason studied my face. “You’re not mad?”
“I’m furious.” I forced a smile, my eyes darkening. “Once I find out who posted this, they’re dead meat.”
Mason rested his chin on his hand, looking confused. “Who would do it? And why?”
“Don’t worry about who for now. Are you free tonight? Want to grab a few drinks with me?”
“With your tolerance? Claire, I’m afraid you’ll say I took advantage of you.”
I smiled, narrowing my eyes. “We’ll see who’s taking advantage of who.”
12
After work, I took a cab straight to a bar. Alexander texted me: “Where are you?”
I raised an eyebrow and replied, “Going drinking.”
“?”
He sent a question mark.
I bit the inside of my cheek and replied, a bit playfully, “Didn’t you say if I drank again, you’d enforce household rules? I want to see what these household rules look like.”
Alexander didn’t reply for a long time. Eventually, he asked: “Address.”
I put my phone away, signaled for Mason to get out of the cab, and walked into the bar.
After a few rounds, I was pretty buzzed. Just as I was about to pour another drink down my throat, Mason snatched it and downed it in one gulp.
“Claire, I really don’t think you need to do this.” He held the empty glass, leaning closer to me.
The distance was incredibly intimate, and his eyes were full of a certain… invitation.
I poured myself another glass. As I went to drink, he snatched it again.
After a few times, he was visibly unsteady.
I smiled faintly, running a hand through my messy hair. A flash of youthful impulse crossed Mason’s eyes. The next second, he reached out to grab my waist…
I dodged. “You haven’t even been at the company for a month. You like me that much?”
Mason licked his lips, not denying it at all. “You’re mature and cute. It’s only natural I’d like you.”
“Mhm, true.” I propped my cheek on my hand. “Pretty with a bit of a temper. That’s exactly what attracts young guys like you.”
Mason leaned his face closer to mine. “Don’t assume just because I’m younger that you can look down on me. Younger guys have their advantages.”
“Such as?”
“Stamina.”
Ha. Well, that point certainly appealed to me.
Kids really do know what older women want.
My eyes looked hazy with intoxication as I lined up another row of shots. Ten of them. I ran my fingertip along the rim of the glasses, signaling him to continue.
Mason hesitated for a few seconds, then actually drank them one by one.
By the time he was done, he looked like he was about to throw up.
He barely kept himself upright, getting even bolder as he tried to pull me into an embrace again.
I stood up, taking a step back. My eyes instantly cleared up, completely sober. “Young guys really do have great stamina.”
Mason realized something was wrong. His pupils constricted. “You’re not drunk?”
“Out of all those drinks, I legit had maybe three. I can handle at least that much.”
Mason’s lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line, and he dry-heaved a few times. I leaned in, faking sympathy. “Feeling sick? Deal with it, kid. Older women can be a little wicked. This is the lesson you deserve for trying to play me.”
“You know?” He didn’t seem surprised.
I scoffed. “You insisting I go with you to see the client was just a setup to get Rachel in front of me, wasn’t it? And those photos in the Slack channel. Besides you, I honestly can’t think of anyone else who would just ‘happen’ to see Alexander and me going home together at that exact moment.”
“That’s just a theory.”
“So is this proof?”
The person who posted the photos was an employee currently processing their resignation. I had just messaged him, and with a little pressure, he confessed. The mastermind was Mason.
Mason wiped the spilled liquor from his mouth, a crooked smile appearing. “What can I say? I like a wicked woman even more.”
I smacked the back of his head. “Mason, I’m warning you. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re Alexander’s nephew, I wouldn’t let you off this easy. This is just a warning. Next time, see what I do to you.”
Mason ground his teeth, looking aggrieved and defiant.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you how to handle the mess in the Slack channel, right? Clean up your own garbage!”
I turned and walked away. Mason yelled bitterly behind me, “I really don’t get what’s so great about my uncle. It’s a fact that he has another woman in his heart, isn’t it? Rachel wasn’t an actress I hired. You’re going to suffer eventually.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. Mason instinctively took a step back. I left him with three words: “None of your business!”
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The moment I realized I was the villainess in a “Billionaire CEO” novel, I had already been married to the tycoon for two years.
According to the plot, I had exactly six months left before I was forced to step down and make room for the real lead.
Those six months were supposed to be my descent into madness—a half-year of me sabotaging myself just to push the hero and heroine closer together before I met my miserable end.
1
I woke up early. Following my routine, I prepared my dear husband’s favorite club sandwich and a cup of hand-ground pour-over coffee.
I tied his silk tie, fastened his cufflinks, and saw him out the door.
Standing at the threshold, watching the tail lights of his car disappear, a bolt of lightning suddenly struck my brain. Everything I had “forgotten”—the memories of my past life and the plot of this world—came rushing back.
It was an epiphany. A total awakening.
Here’s the deal: 25 years ago, I was reborn into this world with memories of my previous life.
At first, I didn’t realize I was in a book.
Not until a man smiled so wide his eyes disappeared and said, “Sweetie, you have a name now. We’re calling you Araminta. Ar-a-minta. A mix of Arthur and Minnie. What do you think?”
Arthur Montgomery was the man in front of me—my father. Minnie was, obviously, my mother.
Araminta. Arthur + Minnie.
A bit cringe, if I’m honest.
The name sounded familiar, but I didn’t overthink it. Boring, “sentimental” names like that are common.
Then he added, “My daughter is so beautiful. Yesterday, old man Sterling wanted to set her up with his son, Preston. Hmph. In his dreams.”
Then a gentle female voice drifted in. “Actually, I think little ‘Pressy’ is quite sweet. Our families have known each other for generations. At least we wouldn’t have to worry about her being mistreated.”
“He wouldn’t dare! If anyone touches my daughter, I’ll take them down with me!”
…
I stopped listening after that. My mind was stuck on two names.
Sterling.
Preston.
Preston Sterling.
Preston Sterling?!
Preston Sterling!!!
In that moment, I finally knew where the familiarity came from.
He was the male lead of the book I had read right before I died.
It was a classic “Billionaire’s Sweet Secret” novel.
In that book, Preston Sterling was the CEO—cold, ruthless, and never smiled. The “Sweet Secret” was Sunny Vance, a bubbly, warm-hearted secretary.
As a corporate newbie, she faced endless setbacks, yet remained relentlessly optimistic. Her pure-hearted resilience caught the CEO’s eye. He went from being annoyed to intrigued, and eventually, deeply in love.
But for a grand romance to be “epic,” it needs obstacles.
Araminta Montgomery was that obstacle.
Araminta and Preston were childhood sweethearts. They were engaged as toddlers and married the moment they hit the legal age.
Araminta loved Preston, but Preston’s feelings for her were based on duty, not desire. Before Sunny Vance, Preston didn’t know what love was. His career and his marriage were just boxes to be checked.
Then Sunny appeared like a ray of sunlight, breaking the still waters of his life.
Of course, they remained “pure.” Despite the romantic tension, they never crossed moral lines.
That was where Araminta came in.
As the wife, she quickly noticed her husband’s change. She played detective, found Sunny, and began a campaign of bullying and harassment.
Her actions didn’t hurt Sunny. Instead, they forced Preston to realize his true feelings.
To that, I just wanted to say: “Good job, past me. Real smart.”
After I made a scene for the thousandth time, Preston grew to loathe me and demanded a divorce.
The book-version of me refused. I went off the deep end and hired thugs to kidnap Sunny, intending to ruin her.
That was the final straw. Preston used his corporate power to crush the Montgomery family, then gave me a taste of my own medicine by tossing me to the same street thugs I’d hired.
I died silently in the gutter.
Preston and Sunny lived happily ever after. They even had twins.
Happy ending!
Happy ending my ass!
When I realized I was in this book, I had one goal: Protect my life, stay away from Preston Sterling!
And I did exactly that…
Until I was three.
Before the age of three, I made my hatred for Preston clear.
If I saw him, I cried.
If he got close, I bit him.
If I had milk in my mouth, I spit it on him.
If I had a full bladder, I waited until he held me.
Preston learned to dodge me on sight.
I was relieved. I figured if I kept this up, we’d be strangers for life.
But the “Plot” had other plans.
On my 3rd birthday, pop. Something hit my brain. I completely forgot I was in a book.
All that was left in my head was Preston Sterling’s gorgeous face.
For the next 22 years, I became his #1 fangirl. I chased him everywhere. He seemed to tolerate it, never pushing me away.
That fueled my delusion. We walked down the aisle. We entered the sanctuary of marriage.
No, the tomb!
Standing outside the villa now, I pinched my thigh so hard I nearly cried.
Dammit. Beauty really is a trap.
I walked back inside. The club sandwich and steaming coffee were still on the table.
Untouched.
Come to think of it, for the last four days, Preston had stopped eating the breakfast I made.
His excuse: “It’s too early. I’m not hungry.”
I hadn’t thought much of it. I kept making it anyway, thinking, Maybe he’ll be hungry today? What if he’s starving and there’s nothing to eat?
But now, with my memory back, I knew the real reason.
He wasn’t “not hungry.” He was saving room for the breakfast Sunny Vance brought him to the office.
Sunny told him coffee on an empty stomach was bad. Sunny said sandwiches were too cold and “corporate.”
Sunny said, “I love bagels and lox, and I made some homemade oatmeal. Try it, Mr. Sterling!”
Ache.
I rubbed my chest. It actually hurt. What now?
2
Sitting at the table, eating the sandwich I’d made for him, I felt like I was chewing on cardboard.
The universe really is a jerk.
If I had remembered the book, I would never have chased him. Knowing he was destined to love someone else and still pinning for him? That’s just pathetic.
If I had just “arrived” in this body this second, I’d file for divorce immediately and cut ties with him and his drama.
But it’s been 22 years. I’ve “simped” for this man for 22 years. I really did love him.
Preston was special to me.
I always thought he loved me back. Maybe not as deeply as I loved him, but I thought I was the only one. The “unique” one.
That’s why I was able to chase him for so long.
And now the “Script” tells me he doesn’t love me and has a soulmate?
What’s the endgame? To kill me?
The housekeeper opened the door and walked in. Seeing me, she asked, “Ma’am, what would you like for lunch? I’m going to the store.”
Something clicked. I stood up. “Maria, make some of Preston’s favorite dishes. I’m dropping lunch off at his office.”
“You got it.”
“Get it ready. I have to run an errand first.”
I drove my red sports car out of the driveway and headed straight to the hospital.
My period was a week late. Usually, I wouldn’t worry—I’ve never been regular.
But with my memory back, I remembered a specific plot point.
In the original story, Araminta had a baby, but she didn’t know it.
She went to the office to find Preston and saw Sunny tying his tie.
Actually, it was innocent. Sunny had accidentally spilled coffee on him, and Preston—who had spent his life having Araminta tie his ties—didn’t know how to do it himself. Sunny was just helping.
But book-Araminta didn’t know that.
She went nuclear. She grabbed Sunny by the hair and raised her hand to strike.
Preston didn’t let her. He grabbed Araminta and shoved her away.
That shove caused a miscarriage.
The loss of the baby turned Araminta’s hatred for Sunny into an obsession.
Preston felt a flicker of guilt, so he transferred Sunny out of the secretarial pool to another department.
But that “separation” wasn’t for Araminta’s sake. It was to make their “forbidden love” grow stronger. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.
I drove steadily toward the clinic.
Preston and I had been married for two years. We always used protection. We had a silent agreement not to rush into parenthood.
I didn’t know what he was thinking. For me, I just wanted a few more years of “us.”
I arrived at the hospital.
Numbly, I registered at the OBGYN department.
Then came the waiting, the doctor, the tests, the results.
Two hours. My mind was a blank void for two hours.
The doctor looked at the chart. “The results are in. You’re definitely pregnant.”
My heart gave a small tremor. I instinctively touched my stomach. A tiny life was actually in there. A child. Mine and Preston’s.
It was an unexpected joy, but right now, all I felt was lost.
“Do you plan on keeping the baby?” the doctor asked.
I snapped my head up. Keeping it? What kind of question was that?
But… it was a question.
Because I hesitated.
It wasn’t until I reached the hospital exit that I snapped out of my daze.
Looking at the crowds passing by, I took a deep breath and got into my car.
22 years of history. Two years of marriage. And now a baby.
I wasn’t going to let a “plot” sentence my life to death.
Preston, please. Don’t let me down.
When I got home, Maria had the lunch packed.
“It’s so rare to see a couple as in love as you two,” she said, smiling. “It’s enough to make me jealous.”
In the past, I would have beamed with pride. Now, I couldn’t even force the corners of my mouth to move.
The drive to Sterling Corp took thirty minutes. I arrived exactly at noon.
The receptionist knew me. No appointment needed. I took the private elevator straight to the 32nd floor.
The first person I saw was Ethan, Preston’s executive assistant.
The moment he saw me, his face stiffened. A flash of panic crossed his eyes before he smoothed it over.
“Mrs. Sterling! What brings you here?”
I gave a tight smile. “Where’s Preston?”
“The CEO is in his office. Let me go tell him—”
I grabbed his arm. “No need. I’ll surprise him.”
I didn’t come here often, but I knew the way.
I walked to the heavy double doors of the executive suite and pushed them open quietly.
The office had beautiful lighting. At high noon, the sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, bathing the room in warmth.
In the glow of the light, I saw them. A man and a woman sitting at the desk. Between them were two cute, matching bento boxes. They were sitting incredibly close, eating and chatting.
The girl said something, a bright smile on her face.
The man looked up, listening intently.
Maybe it was the sunlight, but the man looked exceptionally gentle. A kind of gentleness I had never seen from him before.
Terrified that I was misreading the scene, I pulled out my phone and hit the camera app.
Click!
I “tsked” softly. Dammit, I forgot to silence the shutter. I ruined the moment.
The two of them looked up, completely startled. For a few seconds, they just stared at me, frozen.
Seeing that look on Preston’s face actually gave me a bit of pleasure.
I couldn’t help it. I let out a short laugh.
Preston’s brows furrowed. He looked at me with a face that screamed “annoyed.”
Ah, Preston. You really know how to hurt a girl.
Sunny Vance turned pale and jumped to her feet.
She moved too fast, knocking over the container of soup.
“Ah!”
The hot liquid splashed onto her legs. She cried out in pain.
Preston reacted instantly. He stood up and pulled her back away from the spill, his hands steady on her shoulders.
I turned and walked away. I didn’t want to see the rest.
I’m a woman of dignity. I wasn’t going to do something “untidy” like the version of me in the book.
Ethan was standing behind me, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole.
I shoved the lunch bag into his arms. “You eat it.”
Ethan looked terrified.
I didn’t leave the building. Instead, I walked over to the secretarial pool.
As soon as I walked in, several secretaries stood up. They all knew who I was.
“Which one of you is Sloane?” I asked.
A woman with a sharp, glamorous look stood up, looking nervous. “That’s me, Mrs. Sterling. Is there something you need?”
I pulled a business card from my bag and handed it to her. “I’m very interested in the ‘files’ you have. Call me.”
Sloane looked stunned.
By the time I walked out of the secretarial bay, Preston was already standing there.
I smoothed my expression and walked past him as if he were a ghost.
He wasn’t going to let me go that easily. He grabbed my wrist.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Let go,” I said.
Maybe my tone was too cold—I’d never spoken to him like that before. Preston’s grip tightened.
“Ara, don’t start.”
I took a long, slow breath. “Preston, let go. I don’t want to talk to you right now. Don’t be a jerk.”
Preston’s face darkened. His eyes were smoldering with frustration.
I didn’t back down. I looked him dead in the eye.
Araminta Montgomery was never a “sweet” girl. I only acted that way because I loved him.
Now, I realized there was no point.
I wrenched my hand free and walked out of the building without looking back.
3
I didn’t go home. I checked into a high-end hotel.
Sloane didn’t disappoint me. She contacted me within ninety minutes.
In the original book, Sloane was a minor character—a bit of a “mean girl” who was very confident in her looks. That confidence made her arrogant.
When Sunny Vance caught Preston’s eye, Sloane was consumed by jealousy.
A woman’s intuition is a terrifying thing. Sloane was the first to realize there was something going on between Preston and the new girl.
Driven by spite, she had documented every intimate, ambiguous moment between them.
In the book, those photos eventually landed in Araminta’s hands and acted as the catalyst for her “villainous” breakdown.
I wasn’t interested in the breakdown.
But I loved the evidence.
I paid Sloane a generous “consulting fee” for everything she had.
She was thorough. She didn’t just have photos; she had videos.
I spent nearly two hours staring at those files until my eyes burned and my stomach growled.
I rubbed my temples. I didn’t have an appetite, but thinking about the “little seed” in my belly, I ordered room service.
Starving a baby felt like a form of domestic abuse.
Just as I hung up with the kitchen, my phone rang. Preston.
7:27 PM.
The exact time he usually walked through the front door.
I didn’t answer. I declined the call.
He didn’t call back.
That was so Preston.
After hanging up on him, I called my lawyer, Mr. Harrison.
“Ms. Montgomery? How can I help you?”
“I need you to draft a divorce settlement. I want it on my desk tomorrow morning.”
The line went silent. It felt like an eternity before he found his voice.
“I… I’m sorry? Who is getting divorced?”
I almost laughed. Did he think I was filing for someone else?
“Me. Preston and me.”
This time, Harrison reacted quickly. “Understood. How are we handling the assets?”
“I keep what’s mine. He keeps what’s his. I don’t want anything from our joint holdings.”
Preston and I both had our own family wealth, but our joint investments were massive. Dividing them properly would take months.
“So… you’re walking away with nothing from the marriage?”
…
I didn’t like the phrase “walking away with nothing.”
“Fine. He keeps nothing from the joint assets. I take them all.”
Preston could afford it. He had that much pride, at least.
“Got it. I’ll have the draft to you in an hour.”
Harrison was efficient. He sent the draft in thirty minutes.
I was impressed. I hadn’t even finished my dinner yet.
I decided I’d give him a massive bonus at the end of the year.
After dinner, I went down to the business center to print the settlement and the photos.
As I opened the door to head back to the elevators, a shadow fell over me. I jumped, looking up.
Preston.
His brows were knit tight, his face grim.
I let out a breath and glared at him. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
I wasn’t surprised he found me. Preston was a man of immense responsibility. As long as I was “his responsibility,” he wouldn’t just leave me unaccounted for.
“Why didn’t you come home?” he asked, his voice low.
“Since you’re here, fine,” I said. “Go inside. We need to talk.”
I made a move to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“To print some things.”
“I’ll go with you.”
I pushed him back. “No. Wait here.”
Preston frowned, but he let me go.
In the elevator, I let out a shaky breath. I looked at my trembling hands and hissed, “Get it together.”
When I got back to the room, Preston was sitting stiffly on the sofa.
He was always like this—perfectly poised, like a machine without emotions.
But after looking at those photos this afternoon, I knew better.
I looked at him and looked away.
The divorce papers were in duplicate. I signed my name and slid them across the coffee table toward him.
Preston looked at the documents, and his entire body flinched. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Divorce? You want to divorce me?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Preston’s gaze was heavy. I met it calmly.
He slammed the papers back onto the table. “Why?”
I pulled out the printed photos and tossed them in front of him.
The top photo showed him and Sunny standing on the rooftop, looking out at the city. The angle was perfect—it caught them looking into each other’s eyes, sharing a private smile.
Preston flipped through the photos, one by one. His expression remained calm, his hand steady.
I let out a dry laugh. Compared to my internal turmoil, his composure was insulting.
“You’re stalking me?” He looked up, his eyes showing a flash of cold irritation.
I laughed in his face. “So, your first reaction is to blame me? Classic Preston. You really have a talent for avoiding the point.”
“But let me clarify: I didn’t stalk you. Someone else took these and I bought them. Does that work for you? Do you want to sue me for privacy violations? If so, go ahead. I’m ready.”
Preston’s brow deepened. “That’s not what I meant. Sunny and I have a strictly professional relationship. Nothing has happened. If you’re throwing a tantrum because of her, it’s unnecessary.”
“Ha!”
I let out a sharp, cold bark of a laugh. “I know, I know. Nothing ‘happened.’ No hand-holding, no hugging, no kissing, no sleeping together.”
“But so what? Do you think I’m so pathetic that I have to wait until I’m caught in a public humiliation before I fight back?”
“I’m sorry, but my standards are a little higher than that.”
Preston’s eyes turned icy. He stood up and stepped into my space. “Araminta, what are you doing? I told you there is nothing between us. What more do you want?”
I stepped back, my jaw set. “Are you deaf? I want a divorce. I can’t live with a man who is a ‘work in progress’ toward cheating.”
Preston looked frustrated. He growled, “Araminta, stop this. Pack your things and come home. I’ll pretend this never happened.”
My temper flared. “Pretend it never happened? Why should I be the one pretending? You’re the one being shameless, and you’re trying to gaslight me? Divorce. Divorce. I want a divorce. Right now.”
“Shut up!” Preston raised his voice. It startled me.
His eyes were burning with rage. “Araminta, don’t say those words again. You’re not a child. You need to be responsible for what you say.”
That word triggered something in me.
Responsible? How dare he use that word with me?
Without thinking, I grabbed my purse and swung it at him.
I lunged forward, grabbed one of the photos, and slapped it against his chest.
It was the photo of him eating the bagel Sunny bought for him, holding a cup of juice. The date on the photo was the day before yesterday.
“I wake up an hour early every morning to grind your coffee and make your sandwiches. I haven’t slept in for years because I wanted to make sure you were taken care of. I feed you the best food, and then some girl tosses you a scrap and you act like it’s a five-course meal. You ungrateful jerk.”
My chest heaved. I was shaking with fury.
“You want to talk about responsibility, Preston? You aren’t even worthy of the word.”
4
That was probably the first time Preston had ever been spoken to like that. He looked like he wanted to throttle me.
I didn’t care. I felt a wave of relief.
Preston stared at me for a long time. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “You’re sure about the divorce?”
I shoved the papers and a pen at his face. My resolve was the only answer he needed.
Preston’s expression shifted through a dozen emotions before he finally signed. He pressed so hard the pen nearly tore through the paper.
He didn’t even look at the terms.
I raised an eyebrow. I suddenly felt like I’d lost out—if I’d known he wouldn’t read it, I should have demanded more cash.
Preston stood up, radiating fury, and stormed out of the room.
“Bring your ID and the marriage license!” I yelled at his back. “I’ll see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning!”
He paused for a split second, then kept walking.
“So rude,” I muttered.
The next morning, I woke up as soon as the sun hit the window.
6:00 AM.
The time made me angry.
Years of routine had wired my biological clock. No alarm, no wake-up call—I just woke up.
It was another reminder that I’d wasted my best years on a dog.
Preston Sterling, you dog!
I pulled the covers over my head, trying to go back to sleep, but it was useless.
I spent an hour tossing and turning before finally dragging myself out of bed.
After a quick breakfast and packing my bags, I headed to the courthouse.
I waited for Preston. I waited for two hours. My patience evaporated. He never showed.
I was fuming.
Preston Sterling, you absolute dog!!
I drove straight to his office.
Ethan looked like a nervous wreck when he saw me. “Mrs. Sterling, the CEO is in a meeting. Would you like to wait in his office?”
I didn’t argue. I marched straight in.
I hadn’t been sitting for five minutes before there was a knock, and Sunny Vance tiptoed in.
She was exactly the “sweetheart” type. Her features weren’t breathtaking, but everything about her was soft and pleasing to the eye. The ultimate “damsel” aesthetic.
I could see why a man would want to protect her.
“Ma’am, here is your coffee.”
Ma’am?
I tilted my head. “You don’t know who I am?”
Sunny opened her big, watery eyes. “You’re Mr. Sterling’s wife.”
I smiled. “Oh, so you do know. That’s interesting. Everyone in this building calls me Mrs. Sterling, but you call me ‘ma’am.’ Why is that? Do you have a problem acknowledging my status as his wife?”
Sunny panicked and started waving her hands, forgetting she was holding a cup of hot coffee.
Splash.
The scalding liquid poured over her hand. She shrieked in pain, her face turning white.
I stood up slowly and grabbed Preston’s blazer, which was draped over his chair, and wiped my hands with it.
“Soup yesterday, coffee today. Is your life themed around liquids?”
“With how clumsy you are, you would have been fired ten times over at my company. Preston must really love you to keep you around. How romantic.”
Sunny looked like I’d slapped her. She glared at me with “brave” eyes. “Ms. Montgomery, Mr. Sterling and I have a strictly professional relationship. I admit I was clumsy today, but there is nothing inappropriate between us. Please don’t slander me.”
I tossed Preston’s blazer onto the floor like a piece of trash.
“Professional? Let me tell you what professional looks like. Every other secretary in this building keeps at least an arm’s length from Preston. They don’t bring him breakfast. They don’t make him lunch. They don’t sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him to eat.”
“And look at you. Every woman in this department wears a professional suit, heels, and a full face of makeup. You’re in a hoodie and sneakers with a bare face. What, is there a special dress code just for you? Or are you just special?”
Sunny’s face went through several shades of red and white. She opened her mouth to argue, but I looked past her. “Did you catch all that, Preston?”
Sunny spun around. The moment she saw Preston, she immediately put on a look of “strong but wounded.”
“Mr. Sterling…”
Preston looked furious as he walked toward her.
Sunny looked at him with pleading eyes.
But he didn’t even look at her. He walked straight to me.
He grabbed my hand. “What happened?”
Only then did I feel the stinging pain. I looked down and saw a red splotch on the back of my hand where the coffee had splashed.
Seeing him act so concerned made me feel exhausted.
I pulled my hand away. “None of your business.”
Preston’s face darkened. “What the hell happened here?”
Sunny bit her lip, tears brimming in her eyes. “Mr. Sterling, it was my fault. I accidentally spilled the coffee.”
Preston finally looked at Sunny’s trembling, red hand. He frowned. “Fine. Go get that taken care of.”
“Ethan, go buy some burn cream.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Sunny gave Preston one last look before turning and hurrying out of the room.
I let out a soft snort. “Bravo. A regular Romeo and Juliet scene. Am I the evil villain keeping you apart?”
Preston glared at me. “Araminta, making a scene at the hotel wasn’t enough? You have to bring it to the office too?”
Despite my preparation, his words still felt like a knife. I looked at him blankly. “What, are you heartbroken because I bullied your little girlfriend? Too bad. I’m still Mrs. Sterling, which means I have every right to put a ‘pick-me’ girl in her place.”
“If you’re so worried about her, you shouldn’t have stood me up. I waited at the courthouse for two hours. Where were you? No show, no call. Do you think only your time is valuable? Everyone’s time is money, Preston. Be a man for once.”
Preston’s face grew darker. “The courthouse? Why were you at the courthouse?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Why? To go sightseeing? No! For the divorce!”
“Did you think we signed those papers yesterday for fun?”
That finally seemed to get through to him. I felt dizzy, my vision blurring as my knees began to buckle.
“Ara.”
Preston caught me.
I slumped into his arms, shaking my head.
The vertigo passed as quickly as it came. But the scent of his cologne—the scent I used to love—made me want to vomit.
I pushed him away and gagged.
“Ara.”
He tried to step forward, but I barked, “Stay back! Don’t touch me. You make me sick.”
Preston froze.
After a long silence, he growled, “Are you done? What is this really about?”
I felt a surge of overwhelming emotion—probably the pregnancy. I looked at him with burning eyes. “Divorce. I want a divorce. Now. Immediately.”
Preston had been looking at me with fire in his eyes, but when I turned to face him, he froze. He stared at me, then slowly stepped closer and reached out.
He touched my face. I jerked away.
He looked lost. “You’re crying.”
I froze. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
How embarrassing.
He said, “Araminta, we need to talk.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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Just three months into dating, he proposed to me.
What a coincidence, I was also planning to bleed him dry.
After all, marrying me was going to cost him half his life.
01
On May 20th, Valentine’s Day, Arthur and I went to get our marriage license.
Just before the clerk stamped our certificate, Arthur pulled up his Venmo QR code:
“The marriage license fee is $9. If we split it, it’s $4.50 each.”
I nodded and smoothly scanned the code to pay him.
The people around us stared in absolute shock and disdain.
Taking advantage of the moment Arthur stepped aside to take a phone call, the clerk whispered to me:
“Girl, are you really sure you want me to stamp this?”
She looked at Arthur’s retreating back with an expression that said a thousand words.
It made sense. In this day and age, a man like Arthur, who insisted on splitting the cost of a marriage license down to the penny, was a rare breed.
I thanked her for her concern and smiled, nodding:
“My boyfriend just really likes going fifty-fifty. He treats me very well.”
As we took our marriage certificate and walked away, I could still hear the clerk’s frustrated voice fading in the distance:
“Another severely brainwashed, love-struck fool!
“What does she even see in him, besides his decent face?”
What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t just after Arthur’s face.
I was after his life.
02
My family, my entire bloodline, had been cursed for generations.
Everyone in my clan was doomed to die before turning thirty.
After a century of hardship, we finally found a way to break the curse—Life Borrowing.
However, borrowing life ultimately defied the laws of nature.
Therefore, we usually only borrowed life from individuals who had committed heinous, unforgivable crimes.
People who had committed grave evils were no longer protected by the laws of the universe.
But truly evil people aren’t easy to come across every day.
So, we had to find a loophole: borrowing just a little bit of lifespan first to survive our impending death dates.
Arthur was my loophole.
I met Arthur at a singles mixer.
He was handsome and dressed well, but no one paid him any attention.
I was curious, but my friend just scoffed:
“Him? He’s a notorious cheapskate. He uses ‘going Dutch’ as an excuse to take advantage of people. On a first date, he told a girl she lived too far away and demanded she pay for half his gas money.
“The stories about him are endless. Who would want to be the sucker to date a guy like that?”
My eyes lit up.
To borrow life from an ordinary person, you need to establish a strong karmic connection with them.
Arthur’s habit of taking advantage of others was exactly what I needed.
So, I took the initiative and reached out to him.
A month later, we made our relationship official.
During that month, aside from his obsession with money, Arthur was actually a decent boyfriend.
Arthur claimed he firmly believed in splitting everything 50/50.
So, we split the bill for every dinner and movie.
If he bought me a coffee, I had to drink half and save the rest for him.
For a gift, he gave me a $30 plush toy, but I had to pay him back $15.
When it was my turn to give him a gift, he personally picked out a pair of $5,000 limited-edition sneakers.
I paid the bill without batting an eye, while he conveniently pretended to forget about his “50/50” rule.
Through continuous testing, Arthur became extremely satisfied with me.
I was a naive, sweet girl from a wealthy family, utterly blinded by love.
And I was very satisfied with him too—strong, healthy, and with a long lifespan.
But this karmic connection still wasn’t enough.
So, I casually let slip the true extent of my family’s wealth.
Aside from tens of millions in cash, I also owned several properties.
After visiting one of my mansions just once, Arthur became even more attentive.
Three months into our relationship, he proposed to me.
I covered my mouth, crying tears of joy.
This time, I would finally be able to borrow a significant chunk of lifespan.
That night, after transferring half the cost of a box of condoms to Arthur, we consummated our love for the first time in my mansion.
The next morning, I received a text from my mom.
[This one looks much stronger than the last one. How was it?]
[Good stamina, decent brain. Might as well have a kid with him while you’re at it.]
03
I had two years left until my thirtieth birthday.
My mom was worried, on one hand, that I wouldn’t have enough time to borrow life.
On the other hand, she really wanted a grandchild.
Knowing that I was satisfied with Arthur in every aspect, she was overjoyed.
She urged me and Arthur to get married as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, when Arthur’s parents found out I was an only child from a wealthy, single-parent household, the way they looked at me changed too.
It was a mix of greed and contempt.
The day after his successful proposal, Arthur took me to meet his parents.
“It’s such a waste for a widow and an orphan girl to be sitting on so much money and property.
“Arthur, as long as you get that marriage license with Chloe, all of that will belong to our family.”
Arthur’s mother, Brenda, discussed her plans with Arthur in an excited tone:
“She listens to everything you say right now. If she hesitates about getting the license, just threaten to break up with her.
“Even better, get her pregnant as soon as possible!”
They were fully intending to swallow my family’s wealth whole and leave me with nothing.
Separated only by a thin wall, I turned off the hidden surveillance app I had installed on Arthur’s phone and took off my Bluetooth earbud.
I smiled a deep, meaningful smile.
What a pity. We’ll see who ends up swallowing who.
…
Arthur, following his mother’s advice, brought up marriage with me.
We hit it off immediately, skipped the engagement party, and went straight to get our license.
After getting the certificate, I quietly rolled up my sleeve.
On my porcelain-white wrist, there was a red line resembling a birthmark.
At that moment, the red line was creeping forward, eerily and slowly.
It didn’t stop until it had grown about two inches.
This red line was my lifeline, representing my remaining lifespan.
The longer the red line, the longer I had to live.
Since Arthur had become my husband, borrowing a bit of his life was no big deal.
My lifespan had now increased from less than two years to ten years.
Satisfied, I rolled my sleeve back down.
Ordinary people couldn’t see the red line.
In Arthur’s eyes, I was just scratching my arm.
He waved his phone and smiled:
“Baby, my mom says eating out isn’t clean. She wants to cook a big celebratory dinner for us herself.”
I immediately expressed my excitement and anticipation.
But when we arrived at the Arthur family home, there were only three dishes on the dining table.
A plate of wilted, soggy greens, a plate of unscaled, muddy-looking fish, and a plate of suspicious, mushy meat.
I understood immediately: this was a hostile banquet.
04
Brenda had completely dropped the enthusiastic facade she had before we got our license, treating me with cold indifference:
“You’re here. Grab a seat yourself. Do you really think you’re some high-class princess who needs a formal invitation?”
She was giving me a hard time right out of the gate, establishing her dominance as the mother-in-law before I even had the chance to call her “Mom.”
Brenda was truly impatient.
I was compliant and agreeable with Arthur because that was necessary.
After all, he was about to give half his life to me.
But there was no way I was going to put up with this old hag.
I stood frozen in place, looking at Arthur with innocent confusion:
“Didn’t you say your mom used to work as a cleaner? Why does she act like a Broadway quick-change artist?”
Arthur was stunned, looking at me, not understanding what I meant.
I continued with feigned innocence:
“Otherwise, how could she change her face so quickly?”
Brenda’s expression darkened drastically.
“You little tramp…”
She pointed her finger right at my nose, ready to start cursing, but Arthur stopped her.
Arthur apologetically pressed me down into a chair:
“Chloe, my mom just sees you as her own daughter, so she’s being casual. Please don’t take it to heart.”
After saying that, he shot his mother a warning look.
Reluctantly, with a sour face, Brenda scooped a bowl of rice for me.
I decided to play along and let it go for now.
After dinner, Arthur and Brenda went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
I didn’t know what they talked about.
But when they came out, Brenda had a smile plastered on her face.
She brought out a fruit platter, handed me a piece of pineapple on a fork, and said:
“Chloe, dear, Auntie was just a little overwhelmed earlier, please don’t mind me.”
I took the fork and considerately expressed my understanding.
Brenda’s face lit up, and she spoke bluntly:
“Since you and Arthur both enjoy living a 50/50 lifestyle, us elders won’t object.
“But regarding your house and assets after marriage… shouldn’t we redistribute them?”
I raised an eyebrow. So they wanted to start by securing my assets first.
The house the Arthur family currently lived in was a rental.
What houses and assets did they have to distribute?
They were just testing me.
Using this excuse to coax my personal wealth into their hands first.
The next step would be my family’s wealth.
05
When it came to Arthur, I naturally had to play the part of the devoted, love-struck fool perfectly.
I smiled and nodded:
“You’re absolutely right. I didn’t think this through thoroughly enough.
“However…”
The joy on Brenda’s face froze.
“However what? If you don’t agree, then I’ll just tell Arthur to divorce you! A divorced woman like you will have a hard time finding anyone else to marry!”
Before I could even finish my sentence, Brenda launched into a barrage of threats.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I said pitifully:
“Arthur and I have our license, but we haven’t had a wedding ceremony yet. Shouldn’t we wait until after the wedding?”
Getting the confirmation she wanted, Arthur conveniently made his appearance.
He played the good cop, comforting me until I was docile and agreeable.
Brenda was grinning from ear to ear:
“I’ll go pick out an auspicious date for you right now!”
The wedding was set for a month later.
Using the excuse of taking care of me, Arthur’s entire family ended their lease on their small apartment and moved into my mansion.
Perhaps afraid I would back out before the wedding, his family treated me like royalty, catering to my every whim.
But behind my back, they held me in utter contempt.
“My son is amazing. He didn’t even have to pay for the wedding; the bride’s side is covering it. We didn’t spend a single cent to marry a rich girl.
“This Chloe is so shameless, clinging to Arthur like a desperate leech.”
Brenda revealed her true colors:
“Son, work hard. Let’s try to get her pregnant right after the wedding so I can have a big, healthy grandson. This first child absolutely must be a boy.”
“Your mother is right. If she gets pregnant with a girl, she has to abort it. It’ll ruin our family’s feng shui,” Arthur’s father chimed in.
“If Chloe can’t produce a son, you can just find another woman on the outside to give us one. With all her money, there will be plenty of women lining up to give us a grandson.”
Arthur nodded in deep agreement.
These calculating conversations were broadcast to me via the hidden surveillance cameras inside the mansion.
I couldn’t help but sigh; this family was truly garbage.
If I really were a naive, love-struck fool, I would have been swallowed whole by the Arthur family.
Fortunately, they were the ones about to be swallowed.
As long as Arthur made that vow at the wedding, I could borrow half his lifespan.
As for Arthur’s parents…
My mom wrapped her arm around my shoulder and sneered:
“Let them jump around a little longer. After the wedding, I’ll deal with them personally.”
I silently pitied Arthur’s parents.
It wasn’t easy to make my mom angry enough to want to kill.
My mom’s eyes possessed the ability to see the aura of fortune above ordinary people’s heads.
Originally, I hadn’t planned on actually marrying Arthur.
I just wanted him to take a bit more advantage of me so I could borrow a little more lifespan.
For someone destined to live a long life, losing a little lifespan was insignificant.
But when my mom met Arthur’s parents, she discovered something terrifying—
Above Arthur’s parents’ heads, a massive, dark, rolling cloud was brewing.
These two were burdened with immense karmic debt involving human lives.
They were exactly the kind of heinous individuals we had been desperately searching for.
So, borrowing all their lifespan wouldn’t be excessive at all.
06
The day of the wedding arrived quickly.
Sticking to his “50/50” principle, Arthur had proposed before the wedding that neither side should provide a dowry or bride price.
“Baby, after we’re married, both our families’ assets will belong to us. Why bother with all those superficial formalities?”
After making love, Arthur cradled my face and coaxed me.
I groggily kissed his handsome face:
“I’ll listen to whatever you say, hubby.”
Anyway, everything would eventually return to my hands.
On the day of the wedding, the Arthur family invited every distant relative they could find.
Brenda fluttered through the crowd of relatives like a social butterfly.
Learning that Arthur was marrying the only daughter of a wealthy family without even paying a bride price, the relatives were filled with envy, praising Brenda for raising such a successful son.
“That’s because my Arthur has charm. My daughter-in-law was willing to pay out of her own pocket just to marry into our family.”
Brenda put on airs, showing off to everyone.
When I appeared in my wedding dress, the Arthur family relatives looked at me with disdain.
“This new bride has no self-respect. I heard she chased Arthur so hard he couldn’t get rid of her.”
“If she didn’t have a bit of money, Arthur probably wouldn’t even look at her.”
I didn’t know what kind of exaggerated stories Brenda had been spinning.
But the whispers that reached my ears were full of such contempt.
I ignored them completely, my smile wider than a Cheshire cat’s.
Thinking about my impending, massively increased lifespan, I trembled with excitement.
Finally, it was time for the vows.
The officiant was one of our own people.
He specifically mentioned that Arthur and I bonded over his “50/50” rule.
Arthur’s face flashed with momentary discomfort.
However, the Arthur family relatives in the audience were all praising Arthur for being capable and smart.
Arthur’s back instantly straightened.
He even took the microphone and declared shamelessly:
“50/50 is the modern lifestyle for young people.
“Chloe and I have discussed it, and we will continue our 50/50 lifestyle after marriage.”
The officiant took the opportunity to joke:
“Everything is 50/50, does that include your life?”
Under my expectant gaze, Arthur nodded without hesitation.
He opened his mouth to answer:
“Of cour—”
“Hold on!”
A woman’s voice abruptly interrupted.
I turned toward the sound, annoyed…
07
A strange, middle-aged woman stood up.
She frowned, sizing me up.
Her gaze made me very uncomfortable.
My heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t some cliché “stopping the wedding” soap opera plot, was it?
Looking at this woman, she was plain-looking and quite old.
No matter how cheap Arthur was, he wouldn’t stoop that low, would he?
Arthur looked displeased that the wedding was interrupted.
He furrowed his brows, thinking for a long time but couldn’t remember who the woman was.
So he asked suspiciously:
“Who are you? What do you want?”
The middle-aged woman’s gaze finally shifted to Arthur:
“I advise you not to make that vow. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”
She warned Arthur with a serious tone.
Completely disregarding my face as the bride.
My mom and I exchanged a look, both of us surprised.
This middle-aged woman seemed to know something.
My mom immediately stood up and said angrily:
“Arthur, what is the meaning of this? My daughter finally gets to have her wedding, and you allow someone to cause a scene like this?”
Arthur frantically waved his hands in explanation:
“Mom, you misunderstand. I don’t even know her.”
Then he quickly yelled for security:
“Where did this crazy woman come from, disrupting someone’s wedding? Get her out of here quickly!”
Being kicked out by the host in front of so many people, the middle-aged woman’s face flushed with embarrassment.
She turned red, pointed at Arthur, and sneered:
“Good advice is wasted on a doomed ghost.”
This sentence made Arthur’s face change drastically.
He couldn’t hold back anymore, his face darkening as he prepared to step off the stage.
Security finally arrived, apologizing profusely as they shoved the middle-aged woman out.
Before leaving, the middle-aged woman kept her eyes fixed on me.
The wariness in her eyes was glaringly obvious.
I pretended not to notice and looked away.
But from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Arthur’s parents looking quite unsettled.
Something was wrong.
Their son’s wedding was being disrupted, yet given their personalities, they shouldn’t just be watching.
Especially Brenda, she should have been jumping up and screaming by now.
I suppressed the doubts in my heart and focused my attention back on the wedding.
Arthur put his smile back on, ready to continue the ceremony.
The red line on my arm was faintly burning.
As long as Arthur finished his vow, an abundance of life force would pour into my body.
Nothing comes faster than life force voluntarily offered by the person being borrowed from.
“Wait, wait!”
The ceremony was interrupted again.
I cursed silently, forcing down the irritation bubbling inside me.
When I looked up, my expression was back to normal.
This time, it was Brenda.
She piled on a fake smile and said to the officiant:
“We’ve been delayed for so long, everyone must be hungry. Let’s skip the ceremony and move straight to the next part.”
The officiant looked at me, caught in a difficult position.
With things at this point, insisting on continuing would raise suspicion.
I swallowed the heartache of missing this opportunity and smiled magnanimously:
“Mom is right, let’s do as Mom says.”
The suspicion on Brenda’s face didn’t fade with my response.
08
It wasn’t until nightfall that my doubts were finally answered.
Inside the guest room of the mansion.
Brenda’s expression was grave:
“Arthur, you don’t know, but Auntie Sue actually has some mystical abilities.
“What she said today wasn’t just nonsense.
“There’s something off about this Chloe.”
Arthur tiredly rubbed his temples, his tone slightly impatient:
“Forget it, Mom. What era are we living in? Why do you still believe in all this superstitious nonsense?
“If there’s nothing else, I’m heading back. It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted. I still have to go take care of Chloe.”
At the mention of me, Brenda’s face twisted.
“That little bitch. Just ordering my son around. Just wait until I show her who’s boss!”
But she was still uneasy, pulling at Arthur:
“My heart is racing. Don’t go to her room tonight. I’ll go ask Auntie Sue about this tomorrow.”
Arthur hesitated, but ultimately followed Brenda’s advice.
He didn’t even enter the room, just called me saying Brenda was suddenly feeling unwell.
He said he needed to go to the pharmacy to buy some medicine and told me to go to sleep first.
I considerately gave him a few reminders and hung up the phone.
Then I quietly went to my mom’s room.
“Since the Arthur family is getting suspicious, we’ll dispel their suspicions.”
My mom made the final call.
So, the next day.
Before Brenda even had time to leave the house, she was stopped by my mom.
“In-law, perfect timing. Today I need the newlyweds to accompany me to the temple to fulfill a vow. Why don’t you come along with us?”
My mom invited her warmly.
Brenda rolled her eyes, then agreed readily.
Shenshan Temple was a famously efficacious temple in our area.
It was said to house many powerful, ascetic monks.
This was exactly why Brenda was willing to come along.
If my identity was truly suspect, the monks at the temple would be more than capable of subduing me.
Thinking about Brenda and Arthur’s conversation, I couldn’t help but want to laugh.
I’m not some demon or monster; why would I be afraid of enlightened monks?
Brenda kept a close eye on me, instantly finding an excuse to criticize me.
Right in front of my mom, she started scolding:
“Chloe, why are you so ill-mannered? This is a sacred Buddhist site, you must be respectful! Keep your mouth shut and don’t make a sound!”
I covered my mouth, nodding as if embarrassed.
Finally winning a round against me, Brenda was so smug her tail was practically wagging in the air.
She even smugly lectured my mom, saying I needed to be properly disciplined to learn my lesson.
Seeing my mom’s fists clenching in anger, I quickly pulled her away.
Today’s mission wasn’t finished yet.
…
After we wandered around the temple, making circle after circle…
Brenda finally let go of her suspicions.
She deliberately fell a few steps behind us, whispering to Arthur to confirm:
“No problem. I secretly tested the peach wood and talismans on Chloe. The master also took a look and said there’s nothing wrong.”
Arthur also breathed a sigh of relief.
Walking ahead, my mom and I exchanged a knowing smile.
Since the Arthur family has no problem, it’s time for us to start making problems.
🌟 Continue the story here
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After awakening to the fact that I was the evil supporting character in a novel, I decided to just slack off entirely.
I took my seven-year-old stepson on a parenting reality TV show.
While the other moms meticulously prepared nutritious meals for their kids, each one proving to be gentle, virtuous, and capable…
I stayed up playing video games until the middle of the night, then slept straight through until noon.
Uh, well, it wasn’t exactly straight through.
I was woken up by the kid twice in between.
The first time, it was because he had finished making breakfast.
The second time, it was because he had finished making lunch.
He was waking me up to eat breakfast and lunch.
And then, our mother-son duo inexplicably went completely viral.
The top comment from netizens read: “To take care of his clueless, immature mother, this poor kid is stressing his little heart out at such a young age, hahahaha~”
1
“I don’t want your snacks, and I don’t want your milk! Stop bothering me!”
The little boy, looking as handsome as a character straight out of an anime, yelled impatiently, giving me a sudden, splitting headache.
The snacks and milk I was holding were swatted onto the floor by his small hands.
After the pain subsided, my mind was suddenly clearer than it had ever been.
A flood of dusty memories rushed in.
I suddenly realized: I had transmigrated as the evil supporting female character in a novel.
The female lead, Stella, was laser-focused on her career.
I, the vicious supporting woman, had used every trick in the book to marry Harrison, a billionaire CEO who already had a son.
Half a year into the marriage, Harrison showed no desire to actually be a husband. Stella appeared, and he immediately demanded a divorce.
My stepson, Noah, became their ultimate wingman, and the three of them lived happily ever after as a perfect family.
Meanwhile, driven mad by jealousy, I clung to Harrison, framed Stella, and abused my stepson, ultimately meeting a tragic and gruesome end.
Knowing all this, I felt completely sick to my stomach.
I wanted to divorce him right then and there, far away from the male lead, the female lead, and the stepson.
But after our wedding, Harrison had gone on a business trip and hadn’t returned.
And before I awakened to the truth, I had signed a contract for a parenting reality show to “bond” with Noah.
Right now, Noah and I were already on the set.
Breaking the contract meant paying a massive penalty fee.
Asking me for money is worse than asking for my life.
I decided to just slack off and coast through the filming before dealing with anything else.
2
The kid who had just yelled at me and knocked the food to the floor was Noah.
He was a very handsome little guy.
Dark, bright eyes, long eyelashes, and flawless skin.
Wearing a high-quality, oversized hoodie and black joggers, he looked both adorable and cool.
It was just a pity his temper was as rotten as his father’s.
Actually, I was the one who begged his dad to let him participate in this show.
I told him it was to build a mother-son bond.
Harrison married me just to have a hands-off approach to parenting. Seeing me take the initiative, he used his parental authority to force Noah to agree.
Because of this, Noah had been giving me the cold shoulder with an icy expression the entire trip.
Yet, I had shamelessly fawned over him, offering water, offering snacks, acting like an overbearing nanny.
That desperate attempt to bond was the “me” before I woke up.
Now, I had an epiphany.
I just thought about how this kid acted like a little iceberg in front of me.
But later, when he met the female lead, Stella, he’d instantly turn into an obedient, sweet-talking little lapdog.
Never mind that he was just a stepson; even if he were my biological son, I wouldn’t have the energy to serve him right now.
“Oh, you said you don’t want it? Fine, I won’t bother you then,” I said, swiftly gathering all the snacks from the floor and tossing them back into my bag.
Then, I dug out my absolute favorite lime-flavored potato chips and started crunching away.
Nothing in the world is difficult, as long as you’re willing to give up.
Noah let out a soft hmph, looking as if he didn’t believe me at all.
3
Before my awakening, I was a foolish, love-struck idiot.
Relying on a face blessed by the heavens, I signed with Harrison’s entertainment company and then spent all my time revolving around him, completely ignoring my career.
Several times, just to “accidentally” bump into him, I ditched work and ran off from film sets.
I caused a massive uproar in the industry.
And got cursed out terribly by netizens.
So when I appeared on the livestream just now, the chat was entirely filled with people bashing me.
“Ugh, this brainless woman actually showed up. Go die!”
“How dare something so disgusting share the screen with our goddess Stella? Is she even worthy?”
“Did you see the little cutie, Noah, next to her? This woman is practically begging to be a stepmom. Word is, this little cutie has a crazy powerful background. As for how this airhead managed to climb the social ladder… hehe, those who know, know.”
With this background exposed, combined with my excessive fawning over Noah on the trip…
The comment section labeled me a shameless gold digger, a simp, a toad lusting after swan meat.
And because Noah had ignored me the entire time, and the only time he acknowledged me was to lose his temper…
The netizens praised him for being a clear-headed little savage.
I sighed inwardly.
Couldn’t these people see I had already turned over a new leaf and become a new person?
I grabbed a carton of milk, tore off the straw wrapper, and stabbed it in forcefully.
Noah turned to look at me, his little mouth curling down in a dismissive pout.
A look that said: “No matter how much you suck up to me, it’s useless. I won’t drink the milk you give me.”
After inserting the straw, I didn’t even ask him; I just started drinking it myself.
The handsome little boy’s face froze.
He probably assumed I would, like before, desperately try to play the loving mother and offer him the milk to drink.
After all, since the day I met him, I had been exactly what the netizens called me: a simp, constantly trying to please him and his dad.
But who would have thought, I just drank it myself.
The netizens lost their minds.
“What the heck? What’s wrong with this woman? Is she playing hard to get? Using tactics on a seven-year-old?”
Me: “…”
You’re overthinking it, okay?
4
We arrived at the filming location, a secluded countryside resort.
The guests were staying in a three-story house.
The other guests hadn’t arrived yet.
Noah and I sat on a large sofa. He played with his Rubik’s cube, I played on my phone, and my snacking never stopped.
I had been so busy hovering around Noah before we left that I hadn’t eaten breakfast.
Right now, I finished the chips and started gnawing on some beef jerky.
After the jerky, I ate some cookies.
Dried fruit, pistachios… I went through all of them.
Noah sneaked glances at me several times, his little face visibly growing darker and darker.
When I picked up the straw to poke a hole in his favorite—and the only remaining—yogurt smoothie in the bag, he couldn’t stay calm anymore.
He jumped up: “If you eat everything, what am I going to eat?!”
“Oh no, Noah fell for it.”
“This woman must be so smug. She’ll probably give him all the snacks now, and Noah will naturally start liking her. Ugh, so disappointed.”
“Noah isn’t wrong! It’s this evil woman who’s too toxic. Who could resist tempting a seven-year-old like that? Even a nineteen-year-old baby like me couldn’t resist.”
I stuck the straw into the smoothie and said to Noah, “You said you didn’t want my food.”
Noah’s face flushed red, his pale little chin lifting: “But I want it now. Give me the yogurt smoothie.”
“Too late.”
Noah: “You’re an adult, and I’m a kid. Shouldn’t you give the smoothie to me?”
“It’s my first time being a human too, why should I give in to you?”
Noah’s face grew redder, but his damn childish pride wouldn’t let him concede. He blurted out: “But I’m your son! You said it yourself, you’d treat me like your own son!”
“Oh, that was before. Now that I’m married to your dad, I’ve realized our personalities just clash. I’m planning to divorce him, so you won’t be my son much longer.”
After saying that, I bit the straw and started gulping down the yogurt.
Noah: “You said it, no taking it back! I’m calling my dad right now to tell him you want a divorce!”
He even gave me a provocative little glare.
Kids these days are too smart, maturing way too early.
He had seen me acting pathetic in front of his dad way too many times.
In fact, the last time, just to see his dad, I stupidly threatened to jump off a building.
Therefore, even a kid like him knew I loved his dad to death.
So when I said I wanted a divorce, Noah thought I was just trying to scare him.
I swallowed a mouthful of smoothie and nodded like a chicken pecking at grain: “Mhm, mhm, go ahead, call him.”
Noah, who hadn’t expected me to answer so readily: “…”
The bullet screen also fell into a rare silence.
After a long while, a comment finally popped up: “It doesn’t seem like she’s playing hard to get, or lying about wanting a divorce.”
“Talking about divorce on a show, is she for real? Can she really bear to give up the wealthy marriage she simped so hard for? Did she finally drain the water from her brain?”
“But talking about divorce right in front of the kid, isn’t that a bit harsh?”
“So what? She’s just a stepmom, and Noah doesn’t even like her. If she brings up divorce, Noah will be thrilled.”
“Anyway, I just don’t like her.”
Footsteps sounded outside the house.
The bullet screen exploded.
But not a single comment was about me or Noah anymore.
Now, the entire screen was frantically spamming Stella.
“Ahhhhh, the goddess has arrived!”
“The goddess is so beautiful, the baby is so handsome!”
“Stella is awesome! Such a small body holds so much power, truly our treasure.”
“Finally caught my treasure Stella, uwu, Stella is so pretty [frantically licking the screen.jpg].”
A slender Stella, wearing a large backpack, pulling a giant suitcase with one hand, and holding a cute five-year-old boy with the other, walked in.
5
Stella smiled and greeted us.
After putting down her bags, she carefully lifted the little boy onto the sofa and made sure he was seated comfortably.
Stella was the only single guest this season.
The kid she brought was handpicked by the director from ordinary families. His name was Toby, good-looking, smart, known in kindergarten as a “little prodigy.”
Stella unzipped her backpack, took out a pack of yogurt smoothies, and walked over to Noah, who was still in a staring contest with me. She smiled gently: “Noah, I brought your favorite yogurt smoothies, here you go.”
She acted very familiar with Noah, which didn’t surprise me.
Her actions matched the plot perfectly.
If I hadn’t awakened, I would have exploded by now.
Before coming to this show, I had received an anonymous envelope.
Inside were photos of Stella sitting in Harrison’s car, and Harrison hugging Stella.
Stella was an actress under Harrison’s company, a top-tier A-lister.
On the surface, the two of them didn’t seem to have any private interactions.
Suddenly receiving such photos, I couldn’t quite believe they had an ambiguous relationship.
But arriving at the show and seeing how familiar Stella was with Noah…
You have to understand, Noah was usually too shy to let strangers know he loved those yogurt smoothies.
I hadn’t looked closely before, but I instantly believed the contents of those photos.
I concluded they definitely had something going on.
And so, my descent into the blackened, doomed supporting female character began.
I forcibly commanded Noah not to drink the smoothie she gave him.
But the more I stopped him, the more he wanted to drink it.
It caused a huge, unpleasant scene.
And the audience cursed me into oblivion.
But now, I was awake.
Stella was interacting with Noah.
I quickly moved out of frame, retreated to the side to continue drinking my smoothie and looking at my phone.
The bullet screen was full of praise for Stella.
“Stella is truly an angel. She’s so gentle. I watched the stream on the way here and knew Noah wanted a smoothie, so she comforted little Noah the moment she arrived.”
“Speaking of which, if Noah’s stepmom wasn’t that brainless woman, but our gentle Stella, the picture would definitely be so much more harmonious and beautiful. I kind of want to ship the mother-son bond between Stella and Noah.”
Me: “…”
Saying something so morally bankrupt right in front of a legally married spouse, hoping the “other woman” takes over… who’s the real brainless one here?
I frustratedly started playing a game on my phone.
6
I had moved out of the way.
But something heavy landed in my lap.
Stella had tossed the pack of smoothies into my lap.
Me: “?”
“Noah is too shy to take it, can you hold it for him and give it to him later?” Stella still had a smile, and her tone was still very gentle, but her eyes were noticeably a bit cold.
I looked at Noah in confusion.
Noah glared at me.
Me: “?”
This little brat, why is he suddenly not playing by the rules?
Stella winked at me playfully: “Maya, you’re an adult, you can’t be so immature and snatch a child’s food again. Even if you’re craving it, hold it in for now. You can buy some when the show is over.”
“Stella’s lecture is spot on. This woman is so greedy, even snatching a child’s snacks.”
“Exactly, is she a pig?”
“Why even mention that woman? Isn’t it better to just admire our goddess Stella?”
Me: “…”
I picked up the yogurt smoothies.
Decisively and cleanly shoved them into Noah’s hands: “Hold on to them, they’re all yours. When you run out in the future, just tell her, I believe she’ll be very happy to keep buying them for you.”
Stella’s eyes lit up, and she affectionately put a hand on Noah’s shoulder, looking incredibly maternal: “Of course, Noah, as long as you want to drink it, just tell Auntie Stella, Auntie Stella will buy it all for you.”
Me: “…”
I got up and walked out of the house.
If I can’t afford to offend you, I can at least hide, right?
7
There were no official tasks for the show today; it was mainly to show the guests departing and arriving, just some daily life stuff.
For those of us who arrived early, the crew had arranged meals.
Except for me, who didn’t follow the plot and instead spent the day happily playing games.
Noah spent the whole day with Stella, Toby, and the others.
By the time all the guests had arrived, it was already evening.
Room assignments were drawn.
My group with Noah and Stella’s group were in adjacent rooms.
Each room had two beds.
After playing games for half the day, I washed up, lay down on the bed, and continued playing.
At 10:30 PM, Noah came back to the room.
I didn’t stop my hands or look up as I asked: “Why are you back?”
According to the plot, after Stella bailed him out and gave him the smoothies, he fell in love with the gentle and beautiful female lead. He loved sticking to Stella all day long, dreaming of having her as his mom.
And since I, the supporting character, didn’t go and ruin things today or forcefully drag him back…
He should have completely forgotten about me and just slept over there. Why did he voluntarily come running back?
8
After I asked, Noah didn’t make a sound for a good while.
I stole a glance up from my game.
I saw the little brat standing in front of my bed, his small fists clenched, his handsome little face frozen in a scowl, glaring at me with hatred.
I was speechless: “What’s wrong with you? Who owes you money?”
The little guy seemed to have a belly full of resentment. The moment I asked, he angrily shouted a string of complaints: “Why didn’t you come looking for me?! My bed is in here! Why would I sleep anywhere else?!”
Me: “…”
The little brat was yelling and questioning, his eyes turning red like he was about to cry, but he tried hard to hold it back: “You were never like this before! Toby is so immature, I had to play with him all day.”
“I thought you would come looking for me, but look at you! All you care about now is your stupid game!”
“Why did you let me drink a stranger’s smoothie?! Weren’t you afraid I’d get poisoned?!”
My mouth twitched: “It’s not that serious.”
Noah: “The teachers taught us not to eat things from strangers! You’re supposed to be my stepmom, and you didn’t even stop it! How can you call yourself my stepmom?!”
Me: “Didn’t I tell you—”
The little brat cut me off: “Anyway, before you get a divorce, you’re my stepmom!”
After yelling, he huffed and trotted off to take a shower.
Me: “???”
I felt completely baffled.
Why did this kid suddenly change his tune?
Wasn’t he disgusted by the idea of me being his stepmom before?
I felt like I must have missed something.
I paused the game, opened my phone, and reviewed the footage.
I saw that Noah hadn’t drunk a single bottle of the yogurt Stella gave him all day.
He played with Rubik’s cubes and games with Toby, but you could tell his mind wasn’t on it.
Stella tried hard to talk to him, but he gave her the cold shoulder, completely ignoring the food and drinks she offered.
Just before coming back, he returned the smoothies and snacks to Stella, politely declining: “Thank you for your kindness, but our teacher said kids shouldn’t eat things from strangers.”
Stella’s face froze on the spot, and it took her a few seconds to recover her gentle demeanor: “Noah, I’m very good friends with your dad, I’m not a stranger.”
Noah instantly turned into a little adult, saying very calmly and seriously: “My dad said that married men shouldn’t be friends with single women.”
“You might have been friends in the past, but now he’s married, so you can’t be his friend anymore.”
“Otherwise, my stepmom will be unhappy, and if my stepmom is unhappy, my dad will spank me.”
“Thank you again for looking after me today. Goodnight, I’m going back to my room.”
Noah even politely bowed to Stella to say goodbye.
It must have been because Stella’s expression looked so terrible at that moment that even the cameraman couldn’t bear it and turned the lens away, so I didn’t get to enjoy her wonderful reaction.
I have to say, Noah’s actions completely changed the tone in the comment section.
“Such a well-raised baby, so awesome.”
“Damn, after hearing what Noah said, I just realized I’ve wasted ten years drinking boba. I’m not even as smart as a kid. I almost shipped the ‘other woman’ [self-reflection.jpg].”
“Even though I’ve never seen him, and don’t even know who Noah’s dad is, I’m already madly in love with this man.”
Let alone them, even I was blown away by this unseen, cool side of Noah in the video.
But I was still very confused.
Shouldn’t Noah be working against me at every turn, only getting along with Stella like a real mother and son?
But why did it suddenly change?
Could it be because I didn’t turn evil and cause trouble?
Isn’t the rebellious teenage phase supposed to start in the teens? What, it starts at seven now?
Just because I didn’t stop him, and instead fully supported him going to Stella, he got rebellious and decided to stick to me instead???
With this butterfly effect, the subsequent plot would probably change completely too…
🌟 Continue the story here
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🔍 search for “416066”, and watch the full series ✨!
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I loved ’em and left ’em with a rugged construction worker, only to wake up and realize I was living in a romance novel.
In the future, he becomes a ruthless, all-powerful business magnate, while my family goes bankrupt and I become the target of his revenge.
Terrified of that miserable ending, I gritted my teeth and knocked on his apartment door in the dead of night.
Right now, he’s just a struggling construction worker. Aside from a body full of lean, chiseled muscle, he has absolutely nothing.
“I have amnesia!”
I lunged forward, throwing my arms around his waist, sobbing and acting spoiled. “Hubby, the only thing I remember about you is how capable you are.”
I paused, then added, “Capable in every way.”
1
Late at night, the door to the cheap rental apartment clicked open.
I poked my head out from under the blankets, still half-asleep, and murmured in a soft, sweet voice: “Hubby, you’re home.”
The man paused halfway through taking off his shirt but didn’t say a word.
I let out a soft hum and continued to act spoiled: “You worked so hard today, hubby.”
The man still ignored me.
Soon, the sound of splashing water came from the bathroom.
I woke up a bit more and checked the time. It was already past midnight.
Right now, Liam is working from dawn till dusk, doing grueling manual labor day in and day out.
But in the future, he will seize an opportunity, risk his meager life savings on a massive gamble, and successfully build a business empire from scratch.
And the very first thing he will do… is destroy me.
“Move over.”
He came out vigorously towel-drying his hair, lifted the blanket, and slid into bed.
There was no way I was letting this opportunity slip by.
“No,” I said, immediately clinging to him. “I want to sleep holding my hubby.”
The man didn’t speak.
But his breathing grew noticeably heavier, and the hand gripping my waist tightened its hold.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, my head resting comfortably on his broad chest, I heard him mutter through gritted teeth:
“Chloe Davis, if you dare lie to me again this time, I will kill you.”
2
I have amnesia.
Or rather, I was faking it.
After living a smooth, privileged life as a wealthy heiress for over two decades, the most wicked thing I ever did was pretend to be poor and sleep with my dad’s designated driver.
Well, not his regular driver. Just Liam, who happened to be working a side gig driving my dad home that night.
At that time, he was practically radiating testosterone.
A simple white wife-beater clung to his dark, sun-kissed skin, making his tight, muscular physique look incredibly sexy.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but my heart skipped a beat.
In the middle of the night, I squatted by his door, sobbing pitifully: “I didn’t want to embrace the evils of capitalism either! But my dad gambles, my mom is sick, and my little brother is still in school. I have no other choice.”
Liam looked like a tough guy, but even tough guys have a soft spot. It only took a few sentences for me to completely win him over.
“It’s okay. I make three thousand a month. That’s enough for one person, I’ll give you fifteen hundred.
“If you ever need help, or need someone to do heavy lifting, just call me. It’s not easy being out here on your own.”
It’s true what they say: if you’re going to coax a man, do it in the middle of the night.
Liam took me into his heart, and I tricked Liam into his bed.
“Hey,” I said, taking his hand. “I just realized your hands are so big. It makes me feel so safe.”
Liam froze.
“I sleep alone. I never feel safe.”
3
A woman with a slight buzz and a good act can make any man weep.
After we hooked up and I woke up the next morning, I saw a debit card and a piece of paper with his phone number left on the nightstand. Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over me.
This man handed over his bank card after sleeping together just once. If he ever gets married, he’s going to be completely whipped by his wife.
But… at least he didn’t recognize my Valentino heels.
“Hello? Chloe Davis, where the hell are you? Are you out fooling around with some random guy again?
“The usual spot tonight. Get here now. We need to interrogate you.”
The call ended.
I was left alone in the massive hotel bed.
As I got dressed, I stared at the debit card and the piece of paper, sighing heavily.
A guy who makes three thousand a month actually spent a thousand bucks on a hotel room just for one night.
Before leaving, I searched his phone number on social media.
I found a profile. The name was simply “Liam.”
I quickly typed out a friend request and sent it off.
4
“What happened last night?”
My friends started interrogating me the second I arrived.
I answered casually, “I was out fooling around with a guy.”
“Who’s gonna believe that?”
One of them started teasing me: “Everyone knows that the first thing Ethan did when he got back to the States was go see his little childhood sweetheart, instead of you, his actual fiancée. Chloe, shouldn’t we go over there tonight and slap him across the face?”
“Who he sees is none of my business.”
I impatiently poured myself a drink, too lazy to engage with their teasing.
After all, no one would believe that I used to be madly in love with Ethan, and now I simply don’t care about him anymore.
A few drinks later, my phone screen kept lighting up.
Ethan sent me a message saying our parents had arranged a dinner tomorrow, and I had to be there.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I checked my friend requests.
Liam still hadn’t accepted it.
Tsk.
A wave of heat rushed through me. My mind was filled with the explicit memories from the night before.
“I’m leaving.”
I vaguely remembered him mentioning where he lived.
So, I decided to just show up.
5
Before going over, I changed my outfit.
I swapped out all my obviously expensive designer clothes for low-key, basic pieces. I took off my heavy makeup and tried to look like an innocent college girl.
Liam lived in a notorious low-income housing complex in the city.
I wandered around for a while, getting a bit dizzy in the maze of buildings.
But thankfully, I finally found it: Apartment 13-1.
Bang—
The soundproofing here was terrible.
The door next to his opened and closed, and I could hear a woman’s overly sweet voice.
Fighting down my discomfort, I knocked on his door again.
“Well, well, look at this pretty little thing. Who are you looking for?”
A drunk man stumbled out of the elevator.
“Looking for the guy named Liam? Damn, he gets all the luck… why don’t you let me have some fun too?”
Saying that, he reached out to grab me.
I immediately started regretting my drunken decision tonight.
But the next second, the man was kicked hard away.
“Don’t act crazy around here. Get lost.”
Then, Liam suddenly appeared and shielded me behind him.
The drunk man scrambled away in fear.
I looked at Liam’s broad, muscular back and instinctively wanted to reach out and touch it.
“Don’t touch,” Liam said, grabbing my wrist and looking down at me. “I just got back from the construction site. I’m covered in dirt.”
6
His rental apartment was tiny and rundown, but it was kept incredibly clean.
The bed wasn’t big, but the blanket he slept under seemed to be saturated with his scent.
“Have you eaten?”
Liam came out of the shower, his hair still dripping wet.
I nodded: “I ate already.”
He just said, “Hmm.”
It seemed like we had run out of things to say.
Only then did I belatedly realize that I had acted impulsively.
After all, after last night, he and I were nothing more than a one-night stand.
“So… why did you come looking for me?”
When Liam asked this, even he seemed to feel the awkwardness.
With our kind of “relationship,” what else could a meetup possibly mean?
I subconsciously swallowed hard.
The man was still wearing just a simple tank top and shorts. The AC in the rental apartment was barely working, and the heat was making my mouth feel dry.
I didn’t know what to say. My brain seemed to have completely shut down.
After a long pause, Liam tossed a card to me again.
“If you’re short on tuition or living expenses, just use it.
“Next time you come looking for me, tell me in advance. I’ll come down and get you. It’s not safe around here, especially for someone as pretty as you.”
7
This guy really had something about him.
I slowly swallowed again, looking down at the card he had tossed over.
I asked: “Why are you giving me money again?”
Liam tilted his head slightly: “Aren’t you short on cash?”
A faint blush seemed to appear on his ears.
Then, he added: “I was afraid you’d think I was taking advantage of you, that you’d think I was cheap.”
That statement was very interesting.
“Think you’re cheap?”
I looked up, staring straight into his eyes, and asked word by word: “I haven’t even had the chance to ‘take advantage’ of you yet, how could I think you’re cheap?”
The atmosphere instantly shifted.
Liam took a deep breath and started to walk away: “I’ll sleep outside.”
I wasn’t about to let him go.
“Liam,” I said, hugging his muscular arm, pressing my body against his. I looked at him with an innocent expression and asked, “Did I say I wanted you to leave?”
“Were you just thinking about…”
I leaned in close to his ear and whispered those two explicit words.
The next second, I was lifted entirely off the ground.
Liam tossed me onto the bed, pulled off his tank top, his voice thick with desire:
“Well, you can’t leave now either.”
8
I was woken up by a phone call the next afternoon.
I answered groggily: “Hello?”
No one spoke on the other end.
I said ‘hello’ again: “Speak, or I’m hanging up.”
“Chloe Davis.”
A familiar yet distant voice.
Oh, it’s him.
Ethan’s tone was icy: “I don’t care where you are. Right now, immediately, get your ass home for dinner.”
Oh right.
Today was the day I had to have dinner with his family.
“Whatever stupid engagement this is, I’m breaking it off sooner or later.”
After hanging up, I got out of bed.
Liam was already gone.
After all, we had been at it until the early hours of the morning, and he still had to wake up bright and early to haul cement.
But there was breakfast waiting for me in the microwave.
And a message from him on my phone:
[You’re too skinny. Eat breakfast before you leave.]
My face flushed red, and I decided to just ignore his message.
9
I didn’t expect Ethan to be sitting right in my living room.
As soon as I walked in, I bumped right into him.
“Dressing so innocently, who are you trying to fool?”
He held a cup of coffee, his tone freezing cold: “Staying out all night.”
I was long past the point of being provoked by his toxic words.
I just shamelessly replied:
“He likes it when I look innocent.”
But somehow, that sentence set him off.
Ethan slammed his coffee cup down:
“Do you have any sense of shame at all?”
Smash.
Coffee splattered all over my legs.
It should have been scalding hot, but I only felt a chilling coldness.
I remembered when I was a kid, I liked Ethan so much that even when he read my love letters out loud to other people, I didn’t feel embarrassed.
But now, looking at him being so fierce and full of possessiveness, I felt incredibly embarrassed.
“I know you never liked me from the start. There’s no need to keep picking fights.”
I lowered my eyes, losing all desire to even get angry: “Don’t worry, I’ll break off the engagement sooner or later. I’ll let you be with your little green tea.”
10
I still had to go to the dinner.
At least until the engagement was officially broken, I had to keep up appearances.
After getting dressed up, I looked at my perfectly applied makeup and expensive outfit in the mirror, and suddenly missed Liam very much.
I missed Liam gently stroking my white dress last night.
I missed Liam tossing me his debit card.
And I missed Liam being both wild and careful in bed.
“You need to study hard, otherwise you’ll end up doing manual labor like me, and no one will want you.”
After we were done, he would also share some of his deeper thoughts with me.
“Take the money and use it. I don’t have much of an education. When I have time, I can teach you a few words of English.”
That night, I lied to him and said I was a student at the prestigious A University.
I inexplicably started to panic that I had lied to him.
What would he do? If he knew that several months of his salary wouldn’t even be enough to buy that one white dress I wore.
“Stop spacing out. Put a smile on your face. We’re almost there.”
Ethan suddenly spoke up coldly.
I was used to it. I looked down and noticed a few strands of hair on the passenger seat, and asked casually:
“Is your little childhood sweetheart that wild? She likes doing it in the car?”
The car slammed to a sudden halt.
Ethan pulled over to the side of the road, unable to contain his anger:
“Get the hell out.”
I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I opened the door and started to walk away.
But this guy started acting crazy again.
“Chloe Davis!”
There were a few construction sites nearby. It was very desolate.
I didn’t notice, and just kept walking in my high heels. Then Ethan grabbed me and slammed me against the car.
“What exactly do you want?!”
He roared at me.
I was just about to roar back.
But right at that moment, I saw Liam standing a few feet away behind Ethan.
He was looking right at me, past Ethan.
I’m dead.
11
“Are you done acting crazy? We’re almost there, so stop it.”
The car slowly started moving again, and Ethan warned me once more.
“I know.”
I rolled up the car window, as if that would make me forget Liam standing ten meters away staring at me just moments ago.
The moment I saw him, all my fiery anger extinguished.
My mind was filled with only one thought: Escape.
I didn’t even know where to escape to, I just kept my head down and walked back to the car: “I’m not fighting anymore. Let’s go. Hurry up and let’s go.”
Ethan obviously noticed my strange behavior.
In the rearview mirror, he met the gaze of Liam standing over there.
He was working at the construction site right next to us.
His white tank top was filthy. He was covered in muscle, his cargo pants tucked into his boots.
“You like that kind of vulgar man? Your college education was a complete waste.”
Ethan’s sarcasm was blatant.
But I was in no mood to argue with him.
I just kept staring at the chat with “Liam” on my phone.
But I couldn’t bring myself to type a single word.
12
At the dinner table, I was unusually silent.
But in the eyes of the elders, I was being very “well-behaved.”
“Ethan just got back, he needs time to adjust. He should take Chloe out more often. You kids are so playful, it’ll be good for you to relax together.”
Ethan’s father had always liked me.
When I used to be madly in love with Ethan, he often helped me out, doing a lot of things to try and push us together.
It’s just a pity that none of it worked, and instead made Ethan hate me even more.
After all, his father completely despised Ethan’s little childhood sweetheart.
“Chloe? Did you hear me? Are you free?”
My father also nodded at me.
But today, I felt exceptionally frustrated.
Even though everyone in our circle knew that Ethan had spent the night at his childhood sweetheart’s house as soon as he returned, the elders all pretended to be blind.
They called it “maintaining appearances.”
Ethan’s father liked me and hated the childhood sweetheart because he thought she was petty, unlike me, who could handle the big stage.
It was simply because I was “suitable” for Ethan.
“I don’t have time.”
Everyone looked over at me.
I deliberately avoided Ethan’s gaze, just stared at my dad, and said word by word:
“Dad, since everyone is here today, and Ethan is back, we’re all grown up now. I have some things I want to say from the bottom of my heart.
“I, Chloe Davis, have grown up well. My family spent a lot of resources on me. My academic and professional performance is top-notch. I haven’t disappointed the expectations of my elders.
“So today, I want to use my own identity to say something. I and Ethan are both adults. Marriage is not a game. That childhood engagement of ours, shouldn’t we reconsider it?”
13
My phone was blowing up.
Aside from a few calls from my mom at the beginning, the rest, without exception, were all from Ethan.
I couldn’t understand why he was reacting so strongly.
“Where are you?”
When I finally answered, his tone was aggressive.
I didn’t speak. I just pulled out the white dress I wore yesterday, and while taking off my makeup, I listened to him roar:
“Chloe Davis, first you pick a fight, then you want to break off the engagement. Are you done throwing a tantrum?!
“Think about it. If Mia and I were going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago. She and I have no possibility now. Why are you listening to rumors?
“Our families joining forces is a power move. Are you really going to run off with that construction worker? Are you doing charity work?!”
I finished taking off my makeup.
I washed my face. Looking at my clean, pretty face in the mirror, I felt a lot more free.
“Are you done talking?”
I slowly dried my hands with a tissue, speaking unhurriedly: “Ethan, you’ve said so much, but you completely missed the point.”
“It has nothing to do with your little childhood sweetheart, it has nothing to do with money, and it definitely has nothing to do with other people’s rumors. I just don’t like you anymore. Not even a little bit.”
I hung up the phone.
🌟 Continue the story here
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🔍 search for “416067”, and watch the full series ✨!
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While recording a reality show, I was forced by the producers to call my ex-boyfriend for “entertainment value.”
I assumed he had blocked me ages ago, but the voice that came through the line was groggy with sleep: “Want to get back together?”
The fans exploded. I exploded.
I just had to bite the bullet and ask: “Can you lend me a hundred grand?”
Later, he pinned me against a wall.
He said, “Let’s get back together, okay? I have a lot of hundred grand, I’ll give them all to you.”
1
After being a D-list actress for three years, my new, aggressive manager finally snagged me a spot on a popular reality show.
Because everything was scripted, the recording process was going smoothly.
But to create a viral moment, the host suddenly introduced a new game.
Every guest had to call the very first contact in their personal phone and ask to borrow a hundred thousand dollars, without mentioning we were on a show.
This wasn’t in the script. I didn’t think much of it at first, but when I saw my phone handed to me, my eyes went wide.
Oh no!!
I suddenly remembered, the first contact in my phone was Carter Hayes!!!
When we broke up years ago, I never deleted his number!!
I frantically signaled my manager with my eyes, but she didn’t seem to get it. She just gave me a cheerful, silent cheer.
I lost all hope.
After the previous guest made their call and successfully borrowed the money, it was my turn.
My phone screen was mirrored onto the giant stage monitor. The phone number was blurred out, but the contact name wasn’t.
With my screen mirrored, I couldn’t try any tricks. I had to bite the bullet, unlock my phone, and dial that first contact in front of everyone.
Thank goodness I hadn’t saved him as “Carter Hayes,” but rather with an affectionate nickname: “My Little Cheese Mouse.” As long as Carter didn’t pick up, my cover wouldn’t be blown!
My hands trembled slightly. I prayed to every god listening, hoping Carter had blocked me or changed his number!
But maybe I didn’t give the gods enough notice, because they clearly didn’t hear me.
The call not only went through, but it was answered.
My heart stopped for a second.
“Hello?” Carter’s slightly hoarse voice echoed through the entire studio.
My mind went completely blank.
The host, loving the drama, mouthed to the camera: “It’s a guy!”
“Mia?” On the other end, Carter sounded like he had just woken up. His voice was raspy, sending shivers down my spine.
I held my breath, not daring to answer.
“Speak.” Carter’s voice held a hint of impatience, but then it softened. “Why are you calling me?”
I still didn’t dare to speak, casting a desperate glance at my manager off-stage.
Her face looked just as panicked as mine.
She threw her hands up, giving me an exasperated look that clearly said: “You broke up and didn’t block or delete his number???”
“Want to get back together?” When I remained silent, Carter suddenly asked.
A small gasp swept through the live audience.
The audience leaned in, hungry for gossip.
Terrified that Carter would say something else revealing, I forced myself to speak: “Um, can you lend me a hundred thousand dollars?”
There was a pause of about three seconds on the other end.
“You called me… just to borrow money?” Carter’s tone was full of disbelief.
I looked at the people in the studio, wanting to cry. “I’ll pay you back right away. Actually, I’m…”
“Beep, beep, beep—”
Carter didn’t give me any face. He just hung up.
The atmosphere in the studio turned a bit awkward. No one spoke; they just looked at each other in uneasy silence.
My eyes involuntarily teared up. It was so humiliating.
But I understood.
When we broke up, I chose the most hurtful way to end things with Carter. The fact that he even answered my call today was more than generous.
Seeing the awkward silence, the host quickly changed the subject to liven things up and moved on to mirror the third guest’s phone.
As I kept my head down, quietly trying to disconnect my phone from the screen, a bank notification suddenly popped up.
“Carter Hayes has initiated a transfer of $100,000.00 to your account ending in 0215 on 08-07-2022. Please verify…”
I was stunned.
My brain short-circuited, and I accidentally tapped the notification.
And then, everyone in the studio saw the transfer record through the giant screen.
The studio erupted.
A hundred thousand!!! He actually just sent me a hundred grand!!
I was so shocked my mind went completely blank.
Even the host forgot his professional composure, murmuring, “This Carter Hayes… is it the Carter Hayes we all know?”
My scalp prickled. I immediately denied it three times!
Over the past few years, Carter’s career in the entertainment industry had skyrocketed. He had a massive fanbase. If it came out that we used to date, my career would be buried so deep it would hit the Earth’s core.
My manager must have communicated with the head director, so the host quickly recovered via his earpiece, changed the subject, and moved on to the next segment.
After recording the show, my legs felt like jelly.
My manager immediately threw a jacket over my head and rushed me out through a VIP exit.
Once in the car, I was still dazed.
My manager told the driver to go, then furiously scolded me: “Mia, what were you thinking?? You broke up and didn’t delete his contact info??”
After a five-minute bombardment, I looked at her with a face more tragic than if I were crying: “Valerie, am I really going to be canceled to the Earth’s core this time?”
Seeing me like this, Valerie was exasperated. She poked my forehead, angry but helpless: “Mia, I swear I owed you something in a past life!”
Valerie started making calls to clean up my mess.
She ordered the company’s PR team to get ready, monitor the online narrative constantly, and handle any rumors regarding me and Carter immediately, keeping the fallout to an absolute minimum.
But despite her full preparation, the news leaked anyway.
Before I even got home, I was trending on Twitter.
[Trending] Washed-up D-lister Mia & A-lister Carter Hayes
[Hot] Carter Hayes Mia Getting Back Together
[Viral] Did Carter Hayes really date Mia?
…
In an instant, my Instagram was flooded with a massive influx of Carter’s fans. It crashed.
Many comments were vile, cursing me for clout-chasing.
I watched the screen, slowly falling silent.
Valerie sighed, took away my phone, and offered a few words of comfort.
I smiled calmly: “Valerie, I’m fine. Give me the phone, I need to wire the money back to Carter.”
Compared to what happened years ago, these comments were nothing. My emotional state was actually quite stable.
After Valerie handed me the phone, I transferred the money back to Carter.
After returning it, I blocked and deleted his contact info.
Valerie was right. When you break up, you should completely die in the other person’s world.
I should have deleted his info a long time ago.
2
After turning off my phone, I slept at home for two days straight.
Two days later, my manager dragged me out of bed.
“Get up, I got you a new role.” Valerie shoved several thick scripts into my arms.
I was still half-asleep, my brain lagging. “What role?” I asked blankly.
Valerie paused for a moment, then said: “A period drama. You’re the third female lead, but you have scenes with the male lead. Prepare well, Mia, this might be your last chance to make a comeback…”
I stared at the scripts in my arms, my eyes out of focus, Valerie’s words echoing in my mind.
“Your last chance to make a comeback…”
“I’ll take it!” I suddenly raised my voice, fully awake, scaring Valerie.
“I’ll take it!” I repeated, filled with determination.
I remembered the promise I made to Carter years ago.
We promised to work hard and meet at the top.
Even though we broke up and he’s already standing at the top, I need to work hard too! At the very least, I can’t disappoint the manager who never gave up on me!
3
Valerie was very pleased with my sudden surge of motivation.
I spent the entire night reading through the scripts. Then, I proactively told Valerie I needed to learn horseback riding.
The third female lead had quite a few riding scenes.
Nowadays, many actors use stunt doubles for riding scenes, or just sit on a mechanical horse.
I asked around, and the director did indeed plan to use a stunt double for my riding scenes.
Since I decided to take my career seriously, I wanted to do it perfectly. Step one: learn to ride a horse.
Valerie signed me up at an equestrian club, saying she was going all out this time, even paying out of pocket for a top-tier coach.
I was moved to tears, swearing that she would be my manager for life!
4
When it was time for my scheduled lesson, I arrived at the club, changed into my gear, and followed my coach to the arena proudly. Then, I deflated.
I covered my face with one hand and peered through my fingers at Carter, who was galloping freely around the arena. I wanted to smash my head against a wall.
What the hell?! I can run into him at a horseback riding lesson?! Since when is the world this small?!
I was acting sketchy, afraid Carter would recognize me, so I spaced out during the coach’s pre-ride instructions.
The consequence of spacing out was… when I got on the horse, I panicked and spooked the animal.
Thankfully, the coach immediately calmed the horse down, but my legs were shaking like leaves. I couldn’t continue.
Seeing this, the coach told me to dismount and rest.
With my legs trembling, I leaned against the wall and slowly walked towards the lounge. I heard footsteps behind me.
I instinctively looked back.
It was Carter.
Carter stopped right beside me.
He was wearing his equestrian gear, holding a riding crop. His back was straight, and he looked at me with cold eyes.
This was the first time we were face-to-face in three years.
My mind instantly went blank.
Carter just stared at me. After a long while, he let out a scoff.
“Mia, flirting with me and then blocking me? You really are getting bolder.” His face had a half-smile, but I knew that was his reaction when he was extremely angry.
My legs gave out, and I almost fell.
I wanted to explain, but Carter was already walking away, leaving only one sentence behind—
“Then you better mentally prepare yourself. I’m going to settle all our old and new scores together.”
5
Since that day, I specifically scheduled my lessons to avoid Carter’s time slot.
So, until I finished my lessons, we never bumped into each other again.
I only found out Carter was the male lead of this drama an hour before the opening ceremony, after I had my makeup done.
“Valerie, I’m dropping this drama!” After snapping back to reality, I refused on the spot.
But my manager just gave me a flat look: “You’ve already signed the contract. There’s no backing out now.”
My scalp tingled. I suppressed my anxiety and tried to reason with her: “Valerie, you know why I desperately want to avoid Carter, I…”
“I took it exactly because I know.” Valerie interrupted me. “Mia, the entertainment industry is only so big. Carter is at the peak of his career right now. Do you really think it’s possible to completely avoid him? Instead of hiding, why not face it openly? You guys are already broken up. What exactly are you afraid of?”
I looked at Valerie, speechless.
There are some things I couldn’t tell her.
After a long silence, I let out a long sigh: “I understand.”
Valerie was right. Deep down, I understood too. I just couldn’t get past my own mental block.
With a heart full of anxiety, I arrived on set and immediately spotted Carter in the crowd.
He already had his makeup and costume on. Dressed in a white period robe, he looked a bit aloof as he stood there talking with the director.
Carter’s looks were handsome and rugged. Plus, he kept himself in great shape—tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist. He was perfectly suited for period costumes.
He had a very “flawless, unparalleled gentleman” vibe.
As if sensing me looking at him, Carter turned my way.
Our eyes locked for several seconds before I realized what was happening and quickly looked away.
It wasn’t until the opening ceremony ended and shooting officially began that we finally interacted.
Because one of us was in Unit A and the other in Unit B.
Perhaps it had been too long since I last acted. Even though I had my lines memorized perfectly, my condition was terrible. I couldn’t get into character.
The director gradually lost patience, and I got scolded several times.
Fortunately, I didn’t have many scenes on the first day. After wrapping up, I went back to the hotel to review the script.
Seeing me suddenly become so dedicated, Valerie was very pleased. She offered some encouragement and left to handle other things, leaving me alone in the hotel booked by the production crew.
My career had been completely stalled for the past few years, so I didn’t have the face to keep an assistant. Two years ago, Valerie reassigned my assistant to another artist.
Now that my career was recovering, I hadn’t found a suitable assistant yet, so I was currently managing everything myself.
Being alone for a long time, I felt it was okay. I was used to doing everything myself.
After dinner, I stayed in my room alone, trying to find the right feeling for the script.
Around 11 PM, someone knocked on the door.
I still had a sheet mask on my face and my script in my hand. When I looked through the peephole and saw who was outside, I almost dropped the mask in shock.
It was actually Carter!!
I ripped off the mask, feeling a sudden surge of panic.
After a moment of panic, I tried hard to calm down.
It’s fine. As long as I don’t open the door or make a sound, he can’t do anything to me!!
I took a few deep breaths and steadied myself.
After knocking a few more times and getting no response, Carter gradually lost patience.
I became increasingly relaxed.
Good, lose patience. Then you’ll leave.
Through the peephole, I saw Carter pull out his phone.
The next moment, my ringtone echoed through the room.
Me: “…”
I sprinted over in terror, grabbed my phone, and hung up.
It was an unsaved, unknown number.
The other party called again. I hung up again and frantically switched my phone to silent.
The next moment, a text came through—
[Stop playing dead. Open the door.]
Me: “???”
Is this Carter’s phone number?
Did he change his number?
Before I had time to think, Carter started knocking again, and louder this time.
There were a lot of crew members staying at this hotel. I really didn’t want any more rumors spreading about my relationship with Carter. I reluctantly opened the door but didn’t let him in.
I cautiously peeked my head out and looked around.
My room was right at a corner, so other people couldn’t see us.
I breathed a slight sigh of relief.
“What do you want?” I asked in a hushed voice.
Carter looked like he had just taken a shower. His dark hair was still slightly damp. He leaned down slightly to meet my eyes: “Are you sure you want to talk to me out here?”
I pursed my lips and reluctantly let him in.
The first thing Carter said when he walked in was: “I heard you had dozens of takes today and got scolded by the director multiple times?”
Me: “…”
So, three years after our breakup, Carter had become so petty that he specifically came to my door to mock me?!
I suppressed my anger: “Yes, are you satisfied? If you’re satisfied, hurry up and leave!”
But Carter acted as if he didn’t hear me. He looked around the room, picked up the script I had carelessly tossed on the bed, and started flipping through it.
“Which part are you struggling with emotionally?” he asked, scanning the script page by page.
“What are you trying to do?” I asked grumpily.
“Help you run lines, what else?” Carter looked up at me, his face showing no signs of holding a grudge.
But I didn’t dare trust him.
I know my place. Three years ago, if I were in his shoes after what I did, let alone never speaking to me again, seeking revenge would be entirely possible.
Coupled with his remark at the equestrian club that he wanted to settle our “old and new scores together”…
It’s hard for anyone to believe he genuinely came to help me run lines out of the goodness of his heart.
I stepped forward, snatched the script from his hands, threw it aside, and pointed to the door: “Get out. I don’t need your help with my lines. I can do it myself.”
Compared to my emotional fluctuations, Carter seemed very calm.
“Mia, your career has been dead for three years. This is your only chance to make a comeback. Do you really want to let your pride get in the way? Do you think the director won’t replace you if you can’t get into character tomorrow?” Carter’s tone was neither light nor heavy, but it instantly brought tears to my eyes.
He was right, and I knew it. That’s why I was so hard on myself.
“Alright, stop crying. Your tears are useless against me now.” Carter picked the script back up, not looking at me. “Wipe your tears, and don’t think I have some hidden agenda. If I really wanted to kick you while you’re down, you wouldn’t even have been able to attend the opening ceremony this afternoon.”
Carter looked up at me, a cold smirk on his lips: “Mia, you’re too weak right now. Taking revenge on you wouldn’t give me any satisfaction at all.”
I pursed my lips, fiercely wiped away my tears, took the script, flipped a few pages, and handed it back to Carter: “Here. I’m stuck on this part.”
Forget it. I have nothing left to lose now, and nothing to fear. Why not use free labor?
Not to mention, Carter’s acting skills were actually quite good. He had won several awards over the past two years and gradually secured his place in the film industry.
With Carter helping me analyze the emotions in the script, my shooting the next day went very smoothly. Almost every scene was done in one take, and the director even praised me.
In the evening, Carter came again, still to help me run lines.
“Although this character is the third female lead, her persona is very likable. She’s single-mindedly focused on her career. Audiences have really liked this type in recent years. As long as you act well, you’ll definitely gain a wave of attention. Your manager has a good eye,” Carter evaluated objectively.
“I understand.” I nodded.
When I hit rock bottom, my manager never gave up on me. So even just for her sake, I had to climb back up.
After that, Carter basically came to help me run lines every day, except when he had night shoots.
Actually, I had fully immersed myself in the character by then and didn’t need to run lines anymore.
Carter probably knew that too.
But he didn’t mention it, and I didn’t either.
I greedily clung to this tiny bit of warmth.
The filming went smoothly, and soon it was time for my scenes with Carter.
This drama tells the story of the male lead, a young master from a prominent family, traveling abroad. His entire family is wiped out overnight. To uncover the truth behind his family’s destruction, he carefully schemes, not hesitating to use the second female lead and ally with the third female lead, ultimately finding love and staying together with the female lead.
In the show, he seeks the truth, seeks justice for his family, and seeks to wipe out his enemy’s entire family, making them pay in blood.
And I play the younger sister of the second female lead. My mother (a concubine) was falsely accused of adultery by the second female lead’s mother and humiliated to death. I also seek justice.
In the drama, we hit it off immediately and plan a major undertaking together.
Probably because we ran lines almost every day, my scenes with Carter went exceptionally smoothly. Every take satisfied the director.
Especially during our horseback riding scenes, we didn’t use stunt doubles at all. This meant there were fewer restrictions on camera angles, allowing every expression to be perfectly captured.
Carter even managed to mount the horse single-handedly, doing it cleanly and stylishly, drawing cheers from the director.
The filming went so well that the director was in a great mood. In the evening, he wrapped up early and treated the crew to dinner so we could relax.
During the dinner, the director got a bit drunk. He held his glass, found me in a corner, and said to me: “To be honest, I really didn’t want you at first. Even though I only care about acting skills and not internet traffic, you haven’t acted in three years. It was your manager who came to me time and time again, asking me to give you an audition.”
The director clinked his glass against mine and continued: “You didn’t disappoint me. I’m very satisfied. Mia, I’ll cast you in my next drama too.”
Hearing the director’s words, my eyes welled up with tears, and my nose stung.
I sniffled, filled my glass to the brim, and toasted the director: “Director Lee, thank you. To you!”
When the dinner ended, the director had to be carried out; he was blackout drunk.
I was pretty drunk myself.
Everyone drank quite a bit. The other main actors were taken away by their managers or assistants first.
In the end, only Carter and I were left.
“Let’s go,” Carter said to me, picking up my bag.
“I can… I can carry it myself.” I don’t act crazy when I’m drunk; conversely, I’m very quiet and well-behaved.
I took my bag from Carter’s hand and stumbled out of the restaurant.
It was already late at night.
I stood outside the restaurant, my head spinning. My manager didn’t come today, and my new assistant wasn’t starting until tomorrow.
So there was no one waiting for me outside.
I felt incredibly dizzy. I squatted down, holding onto a pillar by the door, and pulled out my phone to call an Uber back to the hotel.
But our shooting location was in a rather remote area. There were simply no cars available at this hour.
“Stop looking. Let’s go together.” I don’t know when, but Carter was standing right beside me, one hand in his pocket, looking down at me.
My reaction time was slow. I thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded.
Carter’s RV was very comfortable. I sat in my seat, drowsy.
But I tried hard to stay awake.
“If you want to sleep, just sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Carter leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and said to me.
“Carter, when are you… going to take revenge on me?” As the alcohol hit harder, I sat up slightly and leaned forward to ask.
Carter was like a sword dangling over my neck right now.
The higher I climbed, the more terrified I was of falling back to the bottom.
Especially after hearing what the director said tonight, I felt incredibly sad. Sad for my own uselessness, which forced my manager to beg so humbly.
I was terrified of falling back down and disappointing my manager again.
Hearing this, Carter opened his eyes.
He sat up and looked at me.
“You want me to take revenge on you that badly?” His expression was freezing as he asked me.
I nodded, then shook my head.
If he took revenge on me, I would consider it paying him back.
Except, I’d feel sorry for my manager.
Carter leaned towards me and pinched my cheek, not too hard, not too soft: “You want me to take revenge however I want?”
He gradually increased his grip, pinching my cheek until it hurt.
I wanted to break free, but he pinned my hands down.
“Carter, it hurts.” My tears fell on command.
Carter’s jaw tightened. He pursed his lips and let me go.
“Don’t cry in front of me, Mia. I don’t fall for that anymore.” Carter leaned back into his seat.
I sniffled a few times, trying to negotiate with Carter.
“When you decide to take revenge on me, can you just target me? I don’t want to drag my manager down anymore…”
“You sure know how to think of others!” Carter seemed enraged. He scoffed, pinched my chin again, and sneered, “Then why didn’t you think of me more back then? I begged you so much. Mia, were you just relying on the fact that I loved you to do whatever you wanted?”
I was speechless, tears streaming down my face.
Back then, to force Carter to break up with me, I said the most hurtful things and did the most hurtful things.
So I don’t complain about anything that’s happening today.
What’s more, he hasn’t even done the things that hurt me yet.
“I told you, I don’t fall for this anymore. Don’t cry!” Carter wiped away the tears at the corners of my eyes with his somewhat rough fingertips, looking a bit frustrated.
I wanted to stop crying too, but I just couldn’t control it. The alcohol was wreaking havoc in my brain, making me cry even harder.
I didn’t want to break up either. It felt like scraping bone and cutting out my heart.
But I had to.
If I didn’t, I would only drag him down.
Carter’s eyes grew a bit misty. He lowered his voice, his tone almost breaking: “Mia, shouldn’t I be the one crying?”
🌟 Continue the story here
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