Category: English

I transmigrated. The moment I opened my eyes, an insanely hideous guy was looking down at me from his high horse, saying, “Harper, go kiss the ugliest guy in the room, and I’ll unblock you on Snapchat.” Me: ??? Aren’t you the ugliest guy in the room? Following the direction he was pointing, my eyes landed in a dimly lit corner. A tall, broad-shouldered guy in a crisp white button-down sat there, his lips pressed into a cold, stunningly handsome line. It was only later that I realized I had transmigrated into a world where beauty standards were completely reversed. 01 “Harper, go on! Kiss him!” As my soul settled into this new body, the jeers and cheering around me grew deafening. Kiss who? I blinked in confusion as the gloating voices continued. “Brad is brutal for this! Making Harper kiss the ugliest guy here.” “Hahaha, the ugliest guy… that’s definitely…” “This is a killer move. It humiliates that guy and totally messes with Harper.” The guy speaking winked and gestured toward a specific direction. I instinctively followed his gaze. Holy crap! My eyes! My poor eyes! Sitting in the center seat, surrounded by a crowd of flatterers, was a guy so breathtakingly ugly I almost became a living reaction meme. Seeing me look over, he pulled the girl next to him closer, raising an eyebrow impatiently. “Harper, we had a deal. I said the unanimously agreed upon ugliest guy. Don’t try to cheat. Just give him one kiss, and I’ll add you back on Snap right now.” [Insert ‘Bombastic Side-Eye’ Meme Here] Bro, take a look in the mirror. Is there anyone in this zip code uglier than you? And wait, did you get your script flipped? You will unblock me? Is it Opposite Day? The ugly guy—who I now realized was Brad—saw me hesitating and assumed I couldn’t lock onto my target. He jutted his chin to point again. I followed his gaze. And guess what? My eyes, which had just been visually assaulted to the point of near blindness, were instantly cured! In the booth opposite us sat another group of people. But unlike our booth, the guy sitting in their center seat was an absolute, cold-faced god of a man. The moment I saw him, it felt like his sheer attractiveness illuminated the entire dingy club. I didn’t even bother arguing with Brad. I pressed my lips together, my voice actually trembling. “You want me… to kiss him?” “I told you to kiss the ugliest guy in the room.” Brad smiled maliciously, his gaze locked dead onto the opposite booth. I nodded slowly, suddenly feeling a bit of pity for Brad. Not only was he ugly and mean, but he was also legally blind. 02 Hearing the increasingly rowdy cheers from the crowd, I didn’t hesitate anymore. This wasn’t humiliation; this was charity work for my soul. More importantly, it was love at first sight with the hot guy across the room. The people around the hot guy obviously heard the commotion. They glared at me, telling me to get lost. I turned a deaf ear and plopped right down next to him. I caught a flash of inexplicable humiliation in his eyes. I was a little confused. I wasn’t bad-looking myself. Kiss or no kiss, there was no need to feel humiliated. Without overthinking it, I opened my mouth, ready to shoot my shot. Just then, the hot guy glanced over at Brad’s booth and spoke, his voice laced with self-deprecation. “I know I’m hideous, Liam is fully aware. But I still only kiss my girlfriend.” Me: Huh? Handsome, do you hear the words coming out of your mouth? You? Hideous? You’re ugly?! You belong on a Vogue cover! But that wasn’t the focal point. My heart did a backflip. I grabbed his hand and asked, “So, do you have a girlfriend?” Liam paused for a second before saying, “No…” Not giving him the chance to finish, I jumped in. “Well, you do now.” Liam: “…” “Since you’re not speaking, I’ll take that as a yes.” “Now that I’m your girlfriend, can we kiss?” Liam looked at me, let out a self-deprecating chuckle, and leaned back casually against the sofa. “You’re really going all out just for Brad, aren’t you?” That lazy, cynical vibe he gave off practically turned my brain to mush. Knowing he misunderstood, I simply leaned over, pressing my hands against the back of the sofa, trapping him. With our eyes locked, I murmured a compliment about his beautiful eyes, then leaned in and kissed him directly on the lips. Liam stared at me in absolute shock. The soft warmth of his lips made me never want to pull away. The entire club gasped collectively. A second later, Brad’s furious voice cut through the noise. “Harper! What the hell are you doing?!” I wanted to continue “getting to know” Liam. But Brad was being too loud. I turned around, annoyed. “Are you blind? I’m making out with my boyfriend.” Taking the cue, Liam’s hand naturally slipped around my waist. The scene that followed was pure chaos. Brad stormed over to grab me, Liam shielded me, and the two groups broke out into a massive brawl. It was only later I found out that these two were sworn enemies. Brad was just using me to humiliate Liam. 03 On the drive back to my dorm in Liam’s luxury car, I looked up at the legendary starlight headliner, then looked at him. Yep, he was definitely better-looking than the roof. “Why do you keep staring at me?” “Because you’re gorgeous to look at.” The moment the words left my mouth, Liam’s expression became extremely complicated. “Harper, for the sake of us being classmates, I helped you out of that situation today. Don’t push your luck.” What did that mean? Was he backing out? I panicked. “I wasn’t joking! I genuinely want you to be my boyfriend. Please, date me. If I have to endure riding in luxury cars and living in mansions to be with you, I’m willing to make that sacrifice!” Liam laughed, purely out of exasperation. After a long pause, he asked, “Do you really think I’m good-looking?” I nodded furiously. Wasn’t it obvious to anyone with functioning eyeballs? If I wasn’t afraid of scaring him off by moving too fast, I wouldn’t even be going back to my dorm tonight. A barely noticeable smile touched his lips. “If you’re my girlfriend, you can’t have any lingering ties with Brad.” I nodded eagerly. I never thought a two-for-one deal this good would ever fall into my lap. When we arrived at my dorm building, we agreed to meet up the next day. I dawdled, refusing to get out of the car. Liam asked, “Is there something else?” I twiddled my thumbs, shot an awkward glance at his driver, and whispered, “Before a couple says goodnight, aren’t they supposed to do something?” He raised an eyebrow. The driver, taking the hint, stepped out of the car. A few minutes later, I walked into my dorm building with swollen, flushed lips. In the car, Liam watched my retreating back. “Harper, you’d better not be playing me.” 04 The moment I stepped into my dorm, a sarcastic voice greeted me. “Well, well, if it isn’t our dorm’s famous little simp. Why are you back so early? Didn’t have to run errands for Brad tonight?” The speaker was Madison, a roommate who had never gotten along with the original Harper. I couldn’t be bothered with her. I washed up and climbed into bed. I had swapped bodies with the original Harper. We had quickly briefed each other on our respective lives before the switch, but dealing with an unfamiliar roommate didn’t require much explanation. Happily, I picked up my phone to text Liam to see if he got home safely. When I opened Snapchat, I saw a new friend request. It was Brad. He attached a message in a completely condescending tone, saying that since I listened to him, he was graciously allowing me back on his friends list. I rolled my eyes. The original Harper had only told me her crush was named Brad. She didn’t mention that Brad was not only visually offensive but also had the personality of a dumpster fire. I accepted his request, watched the “Typing…” bubble appear, and immediately blocked him. The next morning, my roommates were shocked to see me still in the room. “Aren’t you going to deliver Brad’s breakfast?” I shifted my gaze from my chat with Liam. “Don’t bring up Brad around me anymore. I have a boyfriend.” “What? Seriously? Who?” Before I could answer, Madison sneered. “Give me a break. A boyfriend? The whole campus knows you’re Brad’s ultimate simp. You’re just playing hard to get to grab his attention.” Me: … I didn’t know why, but the way they talked about Brad was so weird. They made it sound like he was some untouchable deity. Before I could ask, someone knocked on our dorm door. “Harper, someone’s downstairs looking for you.” It had to be Liam. Silly guy, he could have just texted me. I skipped all the way downstairs. From a distance, I saw a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a white button-down standing with his back to the door. I launched into a flying leap and hugged him tightly from behind. “I missed you so much after just one night!” The next second, Brad’s smug voice rang out from above me. “Harper, I knew you were just playing hard to get.” I gasped in horror and instantly recoiled. Holy crap, I hugged the wrong guy! Worse yet, I didn’t know when Liam had arrived, but he was standing just a few feet away, watching the entire scene unfold with crystal clarity. 05 Brad looked at Liam with sheer provocation and reached out to pull me back into his arms. I stood up, pulled a Matrix dodge, and bolted to Liam’s side. “Let me explain!” Honestly, it wasn’t my fault. For some inexplicable reason, Brad and Liam had very similar builds and dressing styles. Plus, we had left the club last night and gone straight to Liam’s car. I never really got a good look at him from behind. Thankfully, though Liam’s face was dark, he didn’t immediately turn around and walk away. Before I could continue explaining, Brad’s obnoxious voice echoed again. “Explain what? Harper, you only got close to him to make me jealous, right? Well, I’m here in person now. Before I get mad, tell him to get lost.” The way Brad looked at Liam reeked of some incomprehensible superiority complex. I grabbed Liam’s hand and fired back. “You get lost! Are you mental? What business is it of yours if I’m talking to my boyfriend?” Students walking in and out of the dorm started gathering to watch the drama, whispering words like “Campus Prince” and “That Ugly Guy.” I didn’t pay them any mind. With Liam’s face, he was more than qualified to be Campus Prince. “Boyfriend? Him? Harper, are you insane? Have you even looked at his face?” Brad looked genuinely shocked and disgusted. Liam silently tightened his grip on my hand. He was definitely trying to comfort me. Sob. My boyfriend is so sweet. Damn you, Brad. Liam hasn’t even said a word, and you’re trying to gaslight me? I puffed out my chest. “I am Harper. An honor roll student, an avid reader of classic literature, a participant in multi-million dollar lottery projects, a top-tier Amazon reviewer, and one of the finest residents of this dorm. With a face like his, why wouldn’t I be worthy of him?” A hint of amusement flashed in Liam’s eyes. Brad had kicked an iron plate today. I kept firing. “And you have the nerve to insult his looks? Have you looked in a mirror lately? You literal blockhead, with your beady eyes, flat nose, sausage lips, and Dumbo ears! Looking at you for too long makes me want to call 911! I should be suing you for emotional distress!” As soon as the words left my mouth, Brad’s angry face slowly flushed with a bizarre, shy redness. He bit his lip and muttered, “Harper, I know you like me, but you don’t have to flatter me like that.” I immediately clutched my chest, stumbled three steps back, and collapsed into Liam’s arms. Terrifying. “Liam, we need to leave. He’s actually psychotic!” 06 Sitting in Liam’s car, I patted my chest, still reeling. Brad’s delusional confidence was genuinely frightening. Liam was looking at his phone, texting someone, before finally looking up at me. “I remember saying just last night that you shouldn’t have any lingering ties with Brad.” “That wasn’t my fault!” I quickly explained the mix-up from start to finish. Before Liam could say anything, I added, “I know no matter what, a mistake is a mistake. I won’t make excuses. So, as punishment, can we go somewhere private so you can kiss me?” Liam: “…” The driver was still in the car, so the kiss didn’t happen. Liam said he never wanted to hear the things I said to Brad today ever again. I nodded, thinking he was such a good guy. Brad was such a jerk, yet Liam still wanted to protect Brad’s dignity. Truly a man worthy of my love. Liam booked us a table at a private country club. The environment was elegant and quiet. It was just that the waiters… their looks left a lot to be desired. I leaned close to him and whispered, “The owner here is actually really kindhearted.” Liam looked at me, confused. I covered my mouth and whispered, “I figured private clubs would have strict requirements for how their staff look. I didn’t expect them to be so down-to-earth.” Liam’s eyes flickered. “You think they’re ugly?” I scratched my head, realizing these people made a living on service, not their faces, so I put it delicately. “They just don’t really fit my aesthetic.” I spun the lazy Susan to grab a piece of the truffle steak that had just arrived, completely missing the thoughtful, assessing look on Liam’s face. After lunch, Liam planned to take me golfing. I thought that sounded boring, so I suggested we hit the mall instead. He paused for a second before agreeing. He just wore a face mask the entire time. 07 When Liam dropped me back at the dorm, my hands were full of shopping bags. All afternoon, whenever my eyes lingered on something for more than a second, he’d swipe his black card and buy it. It got to the point where I had to walk looking rigidly straight ahead. “Well, well. Found yourself a sugar daddy?” Madison eyed the bags I dumped on my desk and immediately started her trash talk. Liam definitely had sugar daddy money. There was no denying that. Seeing me stay quiet, Madison rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me this sugar daddy is Liam. I heard all about what happened this morning. You’re so desperate to get Brad’s attention that you’d stoop to hooking up with him?” Me: ??? Was Brad the chosen protagonist of this universe or something? I finally understood where his delusional confidence came from. But it was weird. Brad’s family had money, and Liam’s family clearly wasn’t lacking either, otherwise they wouldn’t be rivals. So why did everyone only worship Brad? I voiced my confusion out loud. Madison’s eyes went wide, and then she burst out laughing. “Harper, is your brain broken? Brad is the Campus Prince. How can you even compare that ugly freak Liam to him?” Huh?! What?? What was she saying? This was some very niche English. Who was the Campus Prince, and who was the ugly freak? In a flash of lightning, all the bizarre details connected in my head. I pointed at my own face and asked Madison, “Tell me. Am I pretty, or am I ugly?” Madison looked at me with mild disgust. “You’re a clown. Super ugly.” Wow. Okay. So I really had transmigrated into a world with reversed beauty standards. I really was the clown now. No wonder I always felt a weird cognitive dissonance around Liam. This explained everything. Knowing the truth of this world, I didn’t act rashly. Under these circumstances, trying to explain it to Liam would just sound like I was mocking him. But every time I looked at his gorgeous face, I felt like I had secretly unearthed a gold mine while the rest of the world was blind. Hehehe. 08 My relationship with Liam hadn’t been broadcasted to the whole school yet. Because of that, most people still thought of me as Brad’s ultimate simp. One day, right as I walked into the lecture hall, someone joked out loud. “Hey, isn’t that Harper? You in the wrong room? Brad is in the building next door today.” Turns out, the original host’s reputation as a simp was legendary across campus. Brad was always late to class and couldn’t get good seats, so the original Harper would save a seat for him, wait until he showed up, and then sprint all the way back to her own class. Sometimes, because of one word from Brad, she even had to save seats for his roommates. She had simped diligently for two years and hadn’t even earned basic human respect. Thinking about this, I waved my hand dismissively. “Who’s Brad? The only person in my eyes right now is my boyfriend.” With that, I walked over and sat right next to Liam, ignoring their shocked stares. “Holy shit, is she serious?” “She has to be doing this just to piss Brad off.” “Honestly, I heard what happened at the club the other night. Is anyone really surprised she finally gave up on him?” As the whispers spread, Liam frowned and glanced backward. The room instantly went dead silent. I hadn’t realized he was so intimidating. I rested my chin on my hand, looking at him with a smile in my eyes. Liam suddenly spoke up. “If you mind the whispers, I can go sit in the back row.” Mind? Mind what? Mind that people are gossiping because my boyfriend is too hot? I leaned in close. “Liam, have you ever heard the saying, ‘A hot boyfriend is a girl’s best accessory’?” Even with my thick skin, I felt a little embarrassed saying it. I tried to save face. “I just mean, you are my glory. A few jealous stares from them? I can handle it.” Liam looked at me and suddenly smiled. It was so dazzling I completely lost my bearings. I didn’t even catch what he muttered under his breath. Then I remembered—this was a world with reversed beauty standards. What I just said probably sounded like passive-aggressive mockery to him. “No, no, no! I mean, my aesthetic is just a little different from the mainstream.” Liam: “…” That didn’t sound right either. “I mean, in my eyes, you are incredibly handsome.” Why did it feel like the more I explained, the worse it sounded? Seeing me panic, the corners of Liam’s lips curled up. He gently tapped my forehead and said softly, “You don’t need to explain. I know.” 09 Before the class was even over, the news of me and Liam dating had spread across the entire campus. Brad tried calling me from several different numbers. I ignored all of them. Madison sneered at me in the dorm. “Some people really have no shame. But then again, every pot has its lid. With your wide eyes, small mouth, and perfectly oval face, you really are only fit for a guy with sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, and a high nose bridge.” Hearing that, I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Madison stamped her foot in anger. “What are you laughing at?!” I tried to force my smile down. “Keep insulting me. It’s music to my ears.” Madison: “…” *** Summer brought frequent storms. Shortly after I got back to the dorm, a torrential downpour started outside. I was just texting Liam, celebrating that we didn’t get caught in the rain, when someone outside started screaming my name. I opened the window and looked out. A chill ran down my spine. Holy crap! A swamp monster! Did the creature from the Black Lagoon come to claim my soul?! Standing in the pouring rain below was a guy in a white button-down. The rain had completely soaked through his shirt, and his awkward mid-length hair was plastered flat against his scalp. Seeing me stick my head out, he wiped the water from his face. “Harper! Harper!” I admit, in that moment, I was terrified. I trembled. I shivered and asked my roommates, “Do you guys see that thing down there?” Madison leaned over to look, then instantly covered her mouth. I thought she was scared too, but she turned to me, her eyes brimming with emotion. “It’s Brad!” “He’s so devoted! It’s like a beautiful romance movie!” Me: “…” Honestly, sometimes I really wanted to call the cops on this universe. The reversed beauty standards in this world were absolutely horrifying! Seeing me pull my head back inside, Brad yelled my name even louder. I grabbed my earplugs and lay down on my bed. Rainy days are meant for napping. Madison berated me for being heartless before grabbing an umbrella and rushing downstairs to him. I don’t know how she eventually convinced Brad to leave, but either way, I got several days of peace and quiet. 10 After dating for a while, I realized Liam and I clicked perfectly in every way. Except for the fact that he was a total tease. On the outside, he was this aloof, untouchable god. On the inside? He was sneaky. Whenever we went for walks, if I so much as glanced a second too long at the guys playing basketball on the courts, I’d magically find a subtle, dimly lit mirror selfie of his abs on my Instagram feed that night. And every time I “liked” it, he would delete it seconds later. After a few times, I caught onto his game. The next time he posted a picture, I pretended to casually mention it to my roommates. “Liam’s new Instagram post is really artsy.” Of course it was artsy. It was a seemingly candid shot of him leaning back on a sofa, his collarbone and Adam’s apple peeking out flawlessly from his unbuttoned shirt. “Huh? He posted something?” My roommates looked at their phones in confusion. Madison suddenly chimed in. “Harper… you don’t actually think Liam is good-looking, do you?” Here we go again. “What else would I think?” “His jawline is way too sharp, his brow ridge is too high, his lips are too thin. Besides his good grades, pale skin, and decent vibe, how can he possibly compare to Brad? I think you have psychological body dysmorphia.” She was actually advocating for Brad. You can’t explain ice to a summer bug. I didn’t bother arguing. “You’re right. Based on your worldview, I am psychologically deformed. Because in my eyes, Liam is the hottest guy on the planet.” Madison’s eyes darted around, as if she had just thought of something. She immediately pulled out a bunch of photos and asked me to pick the best-looking ones. The gorgeous men and women I selected were, without exception, deemed hideous by them. My roommates looked at me with deep pity. I just shrugged helplessly. Cognition is impossible to correct when the foundation is built on an error. Just like how a dung beetle genuinely believes feces is the best thing in the world. 11 I was wrong. I shouldn’t have insulted the dung beetles. At least dung beetles don’t commit kidnapping. A few hours ago, Liam finally agreed to take me somewhere private so we could make out. But before my sinful little hands could reach his waist, Madison called, claiming there was an issue with my scholarship application and I needed to go to the counselor’s office immediately. Liam wanted to go with me, but he coincidentally got an urgent phone call at the same time. After leaving the office, I took a sip of the bottled water Madison handed me. When I woke up, I was lying on a couch, my entire body weak and paralyzed. Not far away, Brad was talking to a man in a white doctor’s coat. “Doctor, she must have been traumatized by me earlier. She suddenly developed a fetish for ugly guys. As long as you cure her, I’ll pay whatever it takes.” The doctor nodded and said he needed to prepare some things. Brad walked over and looked down at me. “I knew you wouldn’t just change your feelings for no reason. Turns out you have Cacophilia—a sickness for ugliness. Don’t worry, I’ll have you cured. Once you’re fixed, I’ll forgive you and let you stay by my side.” “I give you an 8.5 out of 10 today, mostly because I’m speechless.” What kind of monumental narcissism is this? If I don’t like him, it means I have a medical condition? Brad flashed a “charming” smirk. “Harper, I admit you’ve successfully caught my attention. You were very smart this time. You know I’ve despised Liam since we were kids. He’s just an ugly freak with a bit of competence. Why does everyone say I’m worse than him in everything except my looks?! I specifically dressed in his style just to humiliate him.” Me: “…” Is it possible that, even based purely on looks, you are lightyears behind him? But this wasn’t the time for that. “This is kidnapping. Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the cops?” Brad reached out and touched my face. “It’s just medical treatment. Once you’re cured, I’ll let you go.” Watching the psychiatrist approach, panic set in. I knew I wasn’t sick, but I was terrified he would force-feed me some random drugs. I tried to fight back, but the sedative hadn’t worn off. I couldn’t move a muscle. As the hypnotic rhythmic sounds began, my consciousness grew cloudy. It felt like an eternity, or maybe just a few minutes. Suddenly, a massive crash rang in my ears. Someone had kicked the door down! When I opened my eyes, Liam, his hair slightly disheveled, appeared in front of me. He was sweating, and he pulled me fiercely into his arms. “Harper, are you okay?” His voice was trembling. I wanted to lift my arms and hug him back, but my body moved on its own, forcefully shoving him away. Then, I heard my own voice speak. She said, “Who are you? Don’t touch me!” Liam’s face instantly went deathly pale. Then, my world went completely black.

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I was at Ethan’s beck and call for six years. I was there whenever he needed me, and I left whenever he told me to. While he was wrapping his arm around another woman’s to drink a toast, I was at the hospital being diagnosed with leukemia. I had three months left to live. Later, he knelt by my hospital bed, crying and begging me to accept a bone marrow transplant. It was hilarious. I never had any intention of living. 1 The moment I got the official diagnosis from the hospital, I called Ethan. Over and over again. No one answered. The doctor’s words still echoed in my ears: “It’s leukemia. You need to be admitted immediately. If we aggressively pursue treatment, there is still hope…” I leaned back in the chair, my face blank. “If I don’t get treatment, how long do I have?” “You’re so young, why wouldn’t you want treatment…” “How long?” The doctor looked at me like I was insane. After a long pause, he finally said, “At most… three months.” I gave a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Three months. That was enough. I had barely stepped out of the hospital doors when my phone rang. The caller ID said “Ethan,” but when I answered, it wasn’t his voice. “Hey, Emma, Ethan is wasted. You need to come get him!” Ethan was drinking? My heart instantly seized. “How could you let him drink?!” That could literally kill him! His friend Mike mumbled some excuses, but over the background noise, I heard a woman’s voice. Mia. Ethan’s first love. The one who got away. I almost forgot. Today was the day Mia moved back to the States. The private room at the bar was packed. A group of people crowded together, craning their necks and cheering. Ethan, the star of the night, had his head tilted back, his arm intertwined with Mia’s as they drank a toast. The expression on his face was one of pure, unadulterated satisfaction—a look I had never seen directed at me. Amidst the cheering, I pushed the door open. Only Mike called out, “Emma.” The rest of them just looked at me like they were watching a sideshow. It was pathetic, really. After being by Ethan’s side for all these years, I had never managed to break into his inner circle. It seemed that in their eyes, only a “goddess” like Mia was worthy of him. Mia turned her head, saw me, and gave a completely unbothered smile. “Emma, you’re here…” Smack! Before she could finish her sentence, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Mia clutched her cheek, staring at me in sheer disbelief. The cheering stopped abruptly. The room descended into a dead silence. “Mia, maybe others don’t know, but are you seriously telling me you don’t? You know exactly what his condition is! Can he drink?!” I demanded, my voice sharp. But the next second, a harsh slap landed on my left cheek, knocking my head to the side. It was Ethan. He stepped in front of Mia, his eyes fierce enough to eat me alive. “Emma, have you lost your mind? What gives you the right to hit Mia?” The right? I took a deep breath, trying hard to swallow the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. Ethan must have forgotten. When he had his heart transplant, I was the one who stayed awake for days by his side. Meanwhile, Mia, fully aware of the massive risks of his surgery, resolutely packed her bags and moved across the country to chase her dreams. And now, I’m the one who doesn’t have the right? “Ethan, all these years I’ve catered to you, protected you, terrified that you’d make a single mistake…” My throat felt so tight I could barely speak. “Because I firmly believed that one day, I would warm that fragile heart of yours.” “But now, I realize I was wrong.” “You don’t have a heart at all.” I closed my eyes, a wave of profound exhaustion washing over me. “Ethan, we’re done.” I pulled off our matching promise ring and set it down in front of him. “You’re free.” A wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled out of the bar. Using the last ounce of my strength, I hailed a cab and fell into the back seat. In the window glass, I saw my own wretched reflection. I covered my nose. Blood was seeping through my fingers, trailing down my hand. I looked like a ghost. I stared at the window and forced a bitter smile. Emma, you’re hilarious. You still have the energy to worry about Ethan’s heart failing because of alcohol. When the one who’s actually dying… Is you. 2 As soon as I got back to the apartment I shared with Ethan, my phone started ringing incessantly, like a grim reaper knocking at the door. Through the receiver, Ethan’s furious roar pierced my eardrums. “Emma, I don’t care where you are, get your ass to the hospital right now. Half of Mia’s face is swollen because of you. Get over here and apologize to her…” He was sick. I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted his contact in one smooth motion. My nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. I leaned over the bathroom sink, unable to wash it away no matter how much water I splashed on my face. The person in the mirror was emaciated, her cheekbones jutting out, with deep, dark circles under her eyes. She looked like a literal corpse. Mia just had a swollen cheek, but blood was dripping from the corner of my mouth. Ethan’s slap had truly held nothing back. I pulled out a suitcase and started packing my things. But looking around the entire apartment, there was barely anything I actually wanted to take with me. In the end, I chose three things and shoved them into the suitcase. A photo album, a notebook, and a small, worn lucky charm. I casually flipped open the notebook. It was densely packed with precautions and reminders. More detailed than any notes I took in college. Diet Section: “Less high-sodium food, it increases the burden on the heart!” “Avoid spicy and stimulating foods; they cause rapid heartbeat and erratic blood vessel constriction, which is bad for heart disease control!” “Avoid drinking large amounts of alcohol or soup!” “Hard-to-digest foods can trigger heart problems!!” Clothing Section: … It was a thick notebook, detailing every minor aspect of his life. Not many people knew Ethan had a heart condition. He didn’t take it seriously himself. But I was neurotic about it, constantly terrified of losing him. I absolutely forbade him from touching greasy or fried foods. I made sure he added layers when it got cold. I wouldn’t let him lounge on the sofa for too long. I made sure he got appropriate exercise, walking six thousand steps every day… I had kept him incredibly healthy for the past six years. Healthy enough that he could now link arms and drink toasts with someone else. I left the notebook on the living room coffee table, right where he couldn’t miss it. I took an Uber to the older, industrial side of the city. Six years ago, I bought a small house here. It was isolated, but the selling point was the quiet. In the front yard stood a massive, towering oak tree that blocked out half the sky. Inside, the walls were covered with photos. I sat there in a daze, staring at them for a long time. Then, I took the photos I brought with me and stuck them one by one into the empty spaces. The seagulls over the bay in San Francisco, looking like a massive cloud blocking out the sun; the sky in Montana, dipping so low it felt like you could touch it; the water in Lake Tahoe, so deep and green it made you dizzy just looking at it. We had good times. The year we went to that historic town in the South, we held hands and wandered through the winding, cobblestone alleys. There were many older women in the alleys offering to braid hair with colorful threads. I sat on a small stool while a woman wove the bright threads into my hair, constantly complimenting my looks. Ethan thought it was amusing and insisted on trying it too. So, I ended up with a few crooked, colorful braids in my hair. When we got back to the Airbnb that night, we found out those specific braids shouldn’t just be worn casually; they were a local superstition associated with mourning a spouse. He didn’t care at all, even teasing me: “What, are you afraid I’m going to die?” Don’t say that, it’s bad luck. I cried and threw a fit, insisting he take them out. He couldn’t win the argument, so we stayed up until the middle of the night undoing them together. Later, I got impatient, grabbed a pair of scissors, and just snipped them all off. My hair looked worse than if a dog had chewed on it. The next day, who knows where he found it, but he brought me a cute beanie to cover it up. I have to admit, it looked pretty good. The day we went to the mountains in Colorado, it happened to be pouring rain. The mountain was just a blur of fog; we couldn’t see a thing. Seeing that I was upset, he comforted me: “No big deal, we’ll come back next year.” But there was no next year. He got busier and busier. Sometimes he would work overtime until one or two in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. Always worried his heart couldn’t handle the late nights, I would sit under the streetlight by the front door and wait for him. There were a lot of mosquitoes in the summer. My legs would get covered in bites, forcing me to hop around in place. But the moment I heard a car honk, I would instantly jump up, running toward him while calling his name loudly. “Ethan! Ethan!” … 3 The shrill ringtone of my phone shattered my dream. My head suddenly pounded with a vicious intensity, and my stomach churned as if a giant hand were twisting my internal organs. I curled into a tight ball. Enduring the pain, I fumbled for the phone under my pillow and answered it. “Emma, where’s my medication?” Ethan’s cold voice came through. I replied instinctively: “First drawer of the nightstand. It’s cold today, wear something thick. The thermal undershirt is in…” I opened my eyes. A damp, stained ceiling met my gaze. Something clicked in my foggy brain. I pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. It was an unknown number. I knew it. I remembered blocking him. “Ethan, we’re over.” My tone turned icy. He sounded exasperated. “Then come get your crap! I’m sick of looking at it!” He probably wanted me to move it so he wouldn’t be annoyed when Mia moved in. I hugged my hot water bottle tighter. “Throw it away. I don’t want it.” He clearly didn’t expect me to say that. He was silent for a long moment, then let out a cold scoff. “Emma, name your price. Otherwise, I won’t feel right about this breakup.” I clenched my jaw, waiting for the wave of pain to recede before speaking slowly. “I don’t want anything.” I don’t want your things. I don’t want your money. And I don’t want you. Before he could react, I hung up the phone. As early as six years ago, Ethan had labeled me a “gold digger.” Back then, he had a sudden heart attack. He was in the hospital, covered in tubes, but his attitude was explosive. To everyone who approached, he had one word: “Get lost!” The private nurses they hired quit one after another. Four of them in total. I was the fifth. He had a terrible temper. If he got slightly annoyed, he’d throw things. The young nurses were terrified of him. I was the only one who wouldn’t leave, no matter how much he hit or cursed me. One time, he suddenly threw a tantrum and slapped the bowl of hot oatmeal out of my hands. The thick, scalding liquid splattered onto the back of my hand, instantly turning the skin a bright, angry red. But I didn’t care about the pain. I was only worried about him. “Are you feeling uncomfortable? Let me go get the doctor, okay?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He turned his face away. “Why didn’t you dodge?” “If I dodge, who’s going to take care of you?” “Stop pretending, Emma. Don’t think I don’t know. You’re only doing this for the money.” Yes, I was doing it for the money. As long as he was okay, he could say I was doing it for whatever he wanted. Ethan probably didn’t know, but I always loved to carefully press my ear to his chest while he was sleeping, just to listen to his heartbeat. “Ethan,” I would call him affectionately. Hearing the strong thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat, feeling that he was still alive—that made me happier than anything else. In contrast to Ethan’s indifference, his parents actually really liked me. Once, Ethan’s mom teased, “Emma, you’re just too lovable. It would be a blessing if our Ethan could marry a girl like you.” I just smiled shyly. Ethan, meanwhile, glared at me darkly from the side. I knew Ethan didn’t like me. He had a “one that got away” in his heart. I never expected that one day I would actually walk by his side and become his girlfriend. I just wanted, purely and simply, to protect him. That was all. The turning point came during a business trip I took to the West Coast. I heard there was a temple nearby where a master blessed amulets, and they were supposedly incredibly potent. I hiked up that mountain trail several times, finally managing to get one for Ethan. Because of it, I have a scar on my forehead. When I gave it to Ethan that day, his eyes instantly turned red. It looked like he was moved by my gesture. But I knew that a photo was spreading like wildfire in his college group chat. It was Mia, dating a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy abroad. The two of them were aggressively making out in the middle of the street. Rumor had it they were getting married soon. Ethan was acting a bit unhinged that day. He asked me over and over again: “Emma, are you willing to be with me?” My throat was dry. I nodded over and over. “Of course.” When it came to him, I never hesitated. But in the six years we were together, he never once said he loved me. Not long after Ethan and I moved in together, I asked him for fifty thousand dollars. I bought this little house. I asked him for the money, and he never once questioned what it was for. But the disdain that flashed in his eyes was heartbreaking. In his eyes, I was probably incredibly ugly. 4 I stayed cooped up in the house for half a month. At first, clinging to those beautiful memories, the days weren’t too hard. But gradually, I started experiencing frequent fevers and dizziness. My hair was falling out in clumps. Not to mention the agonizing, needle-like pain that wracked my entire body, torturing me until I wished for death. Painkillers became my only salvation. I went from three pills a day, to six, to twelve… Half a month later, Ethan found me. I was sitting in a tiny, rundown diner, having ordered a few home-style dishes. I didn’t actually have much of an appetite. I just felt this particular diner had a special meaning. Outside the window, a black SUV pulled up to the curb. Someone sat down across from me. “I knew you were here.” I looked up and locked eyes with Ethan. “How did you get so thin?” My hand holding the chopsticks trembled. I didn’t say anything. “How long are you going to hide from me?” Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he raised his voice, drawing the attention of everyone around us. “Let’s just forget about what happened. Come back with me today, and I won’t hold it against you.” I slammed my chopsticks down, completely losing my appetite. Leaving cash on the table, I stood up and walked out of the diner. But before I could take more than a few steps, Ethan grabbed my wrist. He was furious. “Emma, there’s a limit to throwing a tantrum!” I stumbled, almost falling. My vision went black for a second. People and objects looked pixelated, blurring instantly. But even so, I forced myself to violently shake off his hand. “Ethan, how many times do I have to tell you? We’re over.” I pointed toward the black SUV, where the rear window had rolled down to reveal a woman. “You already have Mia. Please, don’t ever bother me again, okay?” Maybe it was because there was a hint of pleading in my tone, but Ethan’s expression faltered. He looked at me quietly, as if trying to discern whether I was telling the truth or lying. How laughable. From the moment the grim reaper declared I only had three months left, I made my decision. For my final moments, I just want to be quiet, alone. No one has the right to pop up and mess with my emotions. Ethan? He doesn’t deserve it. “Ethan.” Mia hadn’t stepped out of the car; only half of her pale, beautiful face was visible. Through the car window, she called out his name from a distance. Ethan left. Watching the car speed away, I felt a twinge of irony. So, Ethan does know how to be obedient. It just depends on who’s giving the orders. That night, I took a cab to the city hospital, hoping to get a refill on my painkillers. “Emma.” I turned around and saw Dr. Bell. Ethan’s primary cardiologist. Back when Ethan’s condition was unstable, I used to see him constantly. I could rattle off complicated medication names without skipping a beat. He used to tease me: “Relax. You’re more stressed out than Ethan is.” Right now, I was bundled up like a mummy, with my hat pulled low over my eyes, but he still recognized me instantly. “Long time no see. Do you have a minute to talk?” I felt too awkward to refuse. As soon as we sat down, he got straight to the point: “What’s going on with you and Ethan lately?” “Nothing. We’re adults. It wasn’t working out, so we ended it.” Maybe my tone was a bit harsh. He looked at me, choosing his words carefully for a long time before speaking: “I’m not trying to be a peacemaker. But Ethan has been acting out lately, and his mother is very worried.” As he spoke, he handed his phone to me. It was Ethan’s Instagram feed. The newest post was a photo of him and Mia at Disneyland. Behind them was a towering drop ride, and in the distance, the silhouette of a roller coaster. A stuffed Duffy Bear sat between him and Mia, their faces glowing with happy, adorable smiles. The caption read: Trying something thrilling. I couldn’t help but clench my fists. He was literally risking his life. “You’re the person who understands him best. Couldn’t you try to talk some sense into…” “Dr. Bell,” I interrupted him, typing Mia’s phone number into his phone. “From now on, if anything comes up with Ethan, call her.” “She’s the only one who can actually make him listen.” 5 I found a photography studio to take a portrait for my funeral. I hadn’t originally planned to do this. Taking a funeral portrait feels like a prelude to death, something I had instinctively been avoiding. But an accident happened the night before. I got up in the middle of the night for some water and collapsed. I cut my knee on something, and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. It soaked through my pajamas and pooled on the hardwood floor. My limbs ached as if they were being physically torn apart. I couldn’t get up. I could only lie flat on my back on the floor for the entire night. The person in the photos on the wall looked down at me under the dim, yellow light, her eyes seemingly filled with sorrow. I endured until dawn before I finally found the strength to get up and go take the portrait. If it was going to hang on a wall, I vanity wanted to look somewhat presentable. Brushing my teeth resulted in a mouth full of blood, as usual. It was truly bizarre. Even without chemotherapy, my hair was falling out in huge handfuls. I had no eyebrows left. I looked like a skeleton wearing human skin. I applied some light makeup in front of the mirror, but I still looked hideously close to death. When the photographer heard I wanted a funeral portrait, he double-checked: “A funeral portrait? Are you sure?” I nodded. Seeing my emaciated, withered appearance, a touch of pity entered his eyes. He led me into the studio. A shoot was also happening in the studio next door. It seemed like a wedding photoshoot. It was very lively; laughter drifted over constantly, carrying an air of joy. The process was quick. In the photo, the corners of my mouth were turned up, and my eyes held a smile. But I was far too thin, and there was an indescribable exhaustion radiating from the image. The lipstick didn’t help much. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. Carrying the photo, I walked out. Passing the studio next door, I couldn’t help but stop. The door wasn’t fully closed, and voices drifted out. “Wow, Mia, you look better in this than the model did. It’s stunning!” “Just wait until Ethan gets here. He’s going to lose his mind!” “We’ve been waiting for almost two hours. Ethan should be here soon.” … Through the crack in the door, I could vaguely see Mia’s silhouette, surrounded by a group of girlfriends. Her makeup was flawless, and she looked incredibly happy. She was wearing a long, flowing wedding gown, twirling in front of the mirror. My legs gave out. I leaned against the wall to steady myself, another wave of nausea rising in my throat. I clutched my lucky charm tightly. Memories instantly transported me back. This photography studio was owned by a friend of Ethan’s. Even though it was in the older part of the city, it had a long history. With skills passed down from father to son, the photographers and makeup artists here were excellent, making it famous throughout the area. Once, I had foolishly hoped that one day I could take my wedding photos here. Back then, I always thought I had plenty of time. Once, by chance, his friend roped him into doing some modeling. A crisp white shirt and black slacks perfectly highlighted his narrow waist and long legs. With his handsome face, his photos were displayed outside the studio to attract customers. It worked incredibly well; the studio was suddenly packed. Later, they needed a model for wedding dresses, and he recommended me. Wearing a wedding dress, I stepped out from behind the curtain, unable to stop complaining: “This is suffocating me. This dress is way too tight…” He had been lazily leaning on the sofa, resting his chin on his hand, lost in thought. But at that moment, he shot up. In the giant floor-to-ceiling mirror, he stood tall in a sharp suit, and I stood there in a snow-white wedding gown. Standing face-to-face, we looked like a pair of newlyweds. I remember that afternoon. His gaze was burning, seemingly unable to look away from me. After a long moment, he smiled. “My little bride.” I almost had the illusion… That he was going to cry. Unfortunately, it poured rain that day, and the studio’s equipment malfunctioned. The wedding photoshoot never happened. Perhaps, that was fate. I was destined never to have the luck to wear a wedding dress, hold the hand of the man I loved, and pledge my life to him.

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In my Poli-Sci class, the resident “pick-me” girl managed to hook the CEO of Sterling Enterprises. She handed out wedding invitations to the entire class, making a point to deliberately skip me. Yet, on the day of her wedding, the grand reception was delayed for hours. Why? Because the legendary, elusive “Great-Aunt” of the Sterling family hadn’t arrived. Now, she was desperately begging everyone, trying to get just one minute with this Great-Aunt. Meet me? But she was the one who made it explicitly clear she didn’t want me there. 1 As soon as Poli-Sci ended, Chloe Jenkins suddenly stood at the podium and announced to the class that she was getting married. The date was just a week away, and the venue was the ultra-luxurious Plaza Hotel downtown. Honestly, rumors had been swirling for a while. People said Chloe had gotten very close to a wealthy older man, and several classmates had seen her being dropped off at campus in a Rolls-Royce. “Seriously? I heard a single table at the Plaza costs over ten grand. A wedding there has to be in the millions!” “Wow, that’s insane. Who exactly is your fiancé, Chloe?” Though the university allowed students to marry, it was still incredibly rare to see a sophomore tying the knot. Chloe smiled shyly. “You guys might have heard of him. My boyfriend’s name is Liam Sterling. His family is actually pretty normal, he just thinks you only get married once, so he wants to give me a beautiful memory.” “Liam Sterling? That sounds familiar.” “Wait, isn’t that the CEO of Sterling Enterprises, the biggest conglomerate in the city? Please tell me it’s just a coincidence!” Chloe gave a subtle nod, not denying it. “No wonder!” “The Plaza is actually owned by the Sterling family, so it makes sense to host it there. We’re so lucky to get a free meal out of this! I’ve never had five-star hotel food in my life.” “Congratulations, Chloe!” As the classmates showered her with congratulations, Chloe pulled a stack of elegant wedding invitations from her brand-new Louis Vuitton bag. “Because there will be a lot of VIPs there, Liam said we need to strictly enforce the invitations to keep out any… uninvited guests. So please make sure to bring these,” she said sweetly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe.” Chloe went around handing them out. When she got to my desk, her hands were suddenly empty. I raised an eyebrow. Chloe gave me an exaggerated look of guilt. “Hazel, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend said he accidentally missed you when counting the guest list. The seating chart is already finalized, so we really can’t squeeze you in. I’m so sorry.” She bit her lower lip. “How about I make my boyfriend take you out to a nice dinner next time to make up for it? If I can’t get your blessing, I’ll honestly be devastated.” I looked at her deeply, pretending I didn’t see the smug triumph dancing in her eyes. “No need,” I smiled genuinely. “Happy wedding.” Chloe acted as if she was still overcome with guilt, tears welling up in her eyes. She put on such a show that the rest of the class immediately rushed over to comfort her, telling her it wasn’t her fault and that she shouldn’t let me ruin her mood. She was pretty—delicate features, fragile demeanor—and had been voted the department’s sweetheart the moment she stepped on campus. That frail look made people instinctively want to protect her. My classmates began side-eyeing me, telling me not to be petty, since Chloe clearly didn’t do it on purpose. I hadn’t even said anything negative, yet somehow I was the villain. I stayed in the classroom to read. The others quickly cleared out. A few minutes later, Chloe suddenly strutted back into the room. “Hazel.” “There was no ‘headcount mistake’. I left you out on purpose,” she said, her tone dripping with arrogance. “I know. So?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Are you done? If you’re done, I need to get back to my reading. Who you marry has nothing to do with me. Actually, if you were marrying a pig, I might attend. That would be rare.” Chloe’s face drained of color. “Hazel, stop pretending! You act all high and mighty all day, but behind closed doors, you’re just some rich guy’s sugar baby. Yet you put on this fake ‘good student’ act to make everyone think you’re perfect.” “It’s pathetic.” I didn’t even bother looking up from my book. “Proof?” Chloe scoffed. “Hazel, looking at your hypocritical face makes me sick. Someone like you has no right to attend my wedding. You don’t even deserve the last name Sterling.” I hadn’t planned on engaging with her, but everyone has their limits. I snapped my book shut. “Whether I deserve the last name Sterling or not is none of your business.” “But tell me… you really, truly don’t want me at your wedding?” Chloe froze, unable to guess what I was getting at. After a moment, she let out a loud sneer. “What do you think? Why would I ever want you there?” “You won’t regret this?” I stared straight into her eyes. “Why would I? Because of you? Hazel, you’re not just a hypocrite, you’re a narcissist.” I packed my book into my backpack and said softly, “Understood, Chloe. In that case… I hope you don’t regret this.” 2 When I got back to the dorm from the library, my roommates immediately surrounded me, telling me not to let Chloe get to me. There were six of us in the suite. Chloe had moved out at the beginning of the semester, leaving just the five of us: Harper, Mia, Zoe, Lily, and me. They used to be close to Chloe, but after a few incidents, they saw right through her manipulative tactics. When Harper first started dating her boyfriend, she treated the dorm to dinner. We all agreed not to add her boyfriend on social media out of respect, except Chloe. Chloe added his Snapchat. It started with her “innocently” sharing funny stories about Harper, then evolved into her calling him late at night, constantly dropping hints that Harper didn’t actually love him that much. When Harper and her boyfriend eventually broke up, Chloe acted incredibly supportive, which made Harper deeply grateful. It wasn’t until Harper’s ex accidentally revealed that Chloe had been badmouthing her that the truth came out. That was when everyone saw the real Chloe. She used her fragile, innocent act to manipulate people’s sympathies and gain their trust. “I’m not mad. I don’t have the time to be as bored as her, using a marriage just to flex on other people,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “It’s just stupid.” Speak of the devil. Chloe walked in, a smirk playing on her lips. She looked thrilled, probably thinking her little stunt had genuinely upset me. I didn’t bother explaining. There was no point. The other girls ignored her, turning back to their own desks. Noticing the cold reception, Chloe placed several designer gift bags on the center table. “Mia, Zoe, my fiancé just got back from a business trip to Paris and brought these gifts. See if you like them. If there aren’t enough, I can have my driver bring more.” Harper was in the middle of a video game and snapped, “What, you think we’ve never seen imported goods before? You think we can’t afford anything?” Chloe immediately played defense, saying she didn’t mean it like that. She just felt that these items were very expensive, and as “besties,” she wanted to share them. “I just think friends should share,” Chloe said, looking down. “But if you don’t want them because you hate me, that’s fine. I… I understand.” She looked like she was about to cry. Her acting wasn’t quite up to par today—all thunder, no rain. But if we didn’t take the stuff, she’d probably make enough noise to draw the whole floor into our room to see us “bullying” her. I casually reached out and grabbed one of the boxes. “If it’s for everyone, then there’s one for me, right? Perfect. I’ll flip it on Poshmark. Should cover my groceries for the week.” “It’s hard to find a sucker giving away free money these days. Why say no?” Chloe looked shocked, but seemed pleased that her ultimate goal of showing off was achieved. Zoe put away her laundry and grabbed a box too. “Yeah, free stuff is free stuff. Thanks, Chloe. We really wouldn’t be able to afford this otherwise.” The other girls laughed and took the remaining boxes, turning to me. “Hazel, what’s that app you use? Help us sell these too! We’ll buy you boba with the profits.” Chloe: “…” Ignoring our attitude, Chloe pivoted to her real announcement: “I’ll be moving back into the dorm starting tomorrow until the wedding. I hope we can all get along for these next few days.” None of us wanted her back. We knew exactly why she was doing it—if she didn’t stay in the dorm, how else could she make sure the entire student body saw the fleet of luxury cars picking her up? Honestly, the girl knew how to put on a show. She brought back a ton of extra gifts, handing them out to girls in other dorms whether she knew them or not. Naturally, this won her a ton of envious admirers. Upperclassmen even started coming by our room to network with her, asking if she could hook them up with jobs at Sterling Enterprises. Our dorm usually had a great study environment, but for three days straight, it was packed like a crowded fish market. We couldn’t even breathe. Zoe tried to reason with Chloe, but Chloe just gave her signature helpless look. “I don’t want this either! But they’re our classmates. How can I say no? Just because I’m marrying the CEO of Sterling Enterprises doesn’t mean I should act like a snob. That would hurt their feelings.” Zoe was so mad she chugged an entire bottle of orange juice in one go. “How about we talk to the RA? This is ruining our lives,” Harper sighed heavily. “I can’t even take a nap in here anymore. And Lily is a total introvert—she’s having panic attacks seeing a dozen strangers in our room every day.” “I’ll go talk to her,” Mia volunteered. Less than a minute later, Mia returned, frowning at her phone. “The RA said we just need to endure it. The university is apparently trying to secure a partnership with Sterling Enterprises right now. She told us to ‘be understanding roommates’ and avoid causing unnecessary drama.” “Blatant favoritism.” “At least it’s only a few more days. Once she’s married, there’s no way the Sterling family will let her live in a crusty college dorm.” I had just finished a brutal practice test for my Advanced French exam. I took a sip of water. “Not necessarily. Who knows if something will go wrong at the wedding? She might be forced to keep living here.” Harper laughed and called me a jinx, though she admitted she was torn on whether she wanted Chloe’s wedding to go smoothly or not. Then she paused. “Hazel, your last name is Sterling too. Are you secretly related to Liam Sterling? Don’t tell me you’re actually a secret heiress.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I don’t know Liam Sterling.” Harper groaned. “Ugh! I was hoping you were a secret billionaire who would take us on luxury vacations so we could flex on Chloe. Wait, did she not invite you because she hates us, or does she just hate you?” Chloe returned to the dorm surrounded by her new entourage. We immediately stopped talking and dispersed, either going for a walk or hanging out in other rooms. I put my noise-canceling headphones on and started another practice test, trying to block out the endless fawning over Chloe. This was just obstacle training, I told myself. I absolutely had to pass my Advanced French exam this time! 3 The week flew by. Within that time, practically every student and professor knew about Chloe’s wedding to Liam Sterling. Because she had to attend endless dress fittings and makeup trials, her professors gave her a free pass to skip lectures. Yet, she would purposely show up to class in full bridal makeup and designer gowns, stepping out of a chauffeur-driven car just to “listen to a lecture.” People took photos and posted them to the campus confession page, praising her for being beautiful, rich, and still so dedicated to her studies. A true role model. It was under this circus-like atmosphere that Chloe’s wedding day finally arrived. That morning, a motorcade of over twenty luxury cars—Porsches, Bentleys, Maseratis—pulled onto campus and parked right outside our dorm building. Chloe, accompanied by a flock of bridesmaids, stepped into the lead car like royalty. The students who had caught wind of the spectacle were already crowded outside. They finally got a look at Liam Sterling. He was in his early thirties, looking sharp and professional, maintaining a polished smile while his assistant pulled stacks of red envelopes from the trunk. Three or four boxes of cash envelopes were tossed into the cheering crowd. Some students ripped them open on the spot—the minimum amount inside was two hundred dollars. Occasionally, someone would scream that they got an eight-hundred-dollar envelope. Chloe looked like a princess soaking in the adoration of her subjects. The students who got the cash cheered even louder. The noise was deafening. Chloe was getting married. Today. My classmates had all headed to the hotel reception. I, however, pushed against the crowd and walked back into the empty dorm. From the hallway window, I watched the motorcade slowly inch its way off campus. Harper asked in our dorm group chat if I wanted her to bring me anything back. “If we don’t pack up the leftovers from these rich snobs, it’s a crime against food!” Mia chimed in: “Maybe we shouldn’t even go. Let’s not give Chloe the satisfaction.” My heart warmed, but I texted back: “It’s a five-star hotel, don’t skip a good meal just out of spite. Besides, the Sterling family is paying for it. You have every right to eat it. It has nothing to do with Chloe.” Lily: “What do you mean by that?” “Nothing. I’m going back to my practice tests. I must pass this French exam! If I fail again, I’m doing frog leaps around the track for ten minutes straight!” The others: “Okay, okay, you poor 79-scoring tragic hero.” Ugh! Stop bullying me! Why was French grammar so abusive?! Liam and Chloe’s wedding was excessively lavish. They even had a live stream going. Students back at the dorms who snagged the cash envelopes were watching it online, occasionally screaming about the crystal chandeliers, the dreamy floral arrangements, or the massive diamond necklace around Chloe’s neck. Harper and the girls were bored waiting, so they FaceTimed me, panning the camera around to plan their takeout strategy. They were seated at a table with all the girls from our class, so they didn’t have to be formal. I glanced at the screen. “Skip the king crab, it’s dry. Grab the sliced sea bass over there, the sauce is incredible. Leave the wine, none of us drink that stuff anyway.” “No way, we can sell the wine online,” Lily said seriously. We all burst out laughing. “Lily is out for blood today. The resentment is real.” There were over a hundred tables. The guests included top corporate executives and city officials. Many of my classmates were actively networking, handing out resumes. “Why is this taking so long? If they don’t serve the food soon, it’s gonna get cold.” Mia agreed. “Yeah, I see CEO Sterling talking to his family over there. Shouldn’t the ceremony have started by now?” A giant poster at the entrance said the ceremony would begin at 12:30 PM. It was now past 1:00 PM, and nothing was happening. The MC had been on stage stretching his opening monologue for twenty minutes. Sweating profusely, he finally called up a magician to stall, running over to Liam to ask when they could start. Chloe was standing next to Liam, looking nervously at Eleanor, Liam’s mother. Chloe had gone through all the trouble of setting up a livestream. Making her friends, family, and half the university wait for a delayed wedding was a massive blow to her ego. Her smile was practically twitching. “Absolutely not!” Eleanor Sterling’s voice carried sharply. “Aunt Hazel hasn’t arrived. Serve the food? What are you thinking?” Eleanor wasn’t bothering to keep her voice down, so quite a few people heard her. The Sterling family had a Great-Aunt? People looked around in confusion but saw nothing. Harper whispered into the phone, “Hazel, did you hear that? The Sterling family’s Great-Aunt isn’t here. Chloe’s wedding might literally be stalled.” Mia frowned. “That can’t be right. It’s their wedding. Even if an elder can’t make it, they wouldn’t just cancel the whole thing, right?” A guest at the next table leaned over to gossip. “You don’t understand. The Sterlings are a centuries-old dynasty. They take hierarchy incredibly seriously. I’ve never heard of this Matriarch before, but if she exists, this wedding is on thin ice.” “Oh damn. I guess when you’re that senior, you get to throw your weight around,” Zoe said, worried. “But if the wedding is canceled… does that mean the food is canceled? Are we gonna have to split the bill?!” Our classmates laughed. I looked at the screen, watching Chloe stand awkwardly by the extravagant stage, and said casually, “Maybe it’s not that the Matriarch is throwing her weight around. Maybe she was never invited?” Harper gasped. “Are you insane? Who would dare not invite an elder like that? Honestly, I’m super curious how old this Great-Aunt is. She’s gotta be like, ninety or a hundred, right? If I get a chance, I’m gonna ask her for longevity tips. I wanna live to be a hundred and terrorize six generations of my descendants.” I let out a cold snort. “What are you snorting at?” Harper asked. “I just got three questions wrong on this practice test. Can’t I snort in frustration?” Just then, Liam spoke up on the screen. “Mom, why don’t we just proceed without Aunt Hazel today? We’ll personally visit the estate tomorrow to pay our respects.” Eleanor, a woman with an elegant but imposing aura, sneered. “Have you forgotten the family rules? You want the board of elders to kick you out of the family trust?” “Mom… I mean, Mrs. Sterling, it’s getting so late. Won’t this look bad for the guests?” Chloe said softly, clinging to Liam’s arm. “Stop. Do not call me Mom. If Aunt Hazel doesn’t show, this wedding doesn’t count. If you want to call someone Mom, go out to the street and pick a stranger,” Eleanor glared at Chloe, then turned to the older man beside her. “Uncle Richard, Aunt Hazel still isn’t answering her phone?” Richard sighed heavily. “You know how she is, Eleanor. She never lets us bother her unless it’s an emergency, and she only checks her phone when she feels like it. Should we just drive to the university and look for her?” “The university?” Chloe murmured. “Mrs. Sterling… I’m ranked third in my major, and I’m very close with a lot of the professors,” Chloe offered eagerly. “Should I go ask them to help locate her?” Hearing about her good grades, Eleanor’s expression softened slightly. “I appreciate the thought, but this is a senior family member. We shouldn’t trouble you.” “It’s no trouble at all!” Chloe looked like she was about to cry. Understandably. If this wedding didn’t start soon, she would be a laughingstock. Harper kept the camera pointed at the drama. “Wait, an old professor at our school? Do you guys know any who fit the bill?” After sneezing loudly, I hung up the FaceTime call. A moment later, I pulled out my burner phone from my drawer. I scrolled through dozens of missed calls and finally selected one to call back. I don’t know what Chloe said to Eleanor, but Chloe was the one who answered the phone. Her voice was pitiful and sweet, constantly repeating her name, her major, how good her grades were, and how much she wanted to meet the “Great-Aunt.” “Really?” I said flatly. She paused. “Great-Aunt… your voice sounds so young! Please, if you could just come to my wedding, everything would be perfect. We’re all waiting for you.” After the pleasantries, I got straight to the point. “Is that so?” Chloe said firmly, “Of course! Great-Aunt, should we send a car to pick you up at the university? The hotel is a bit far, we don’t want you to get tired.” I didn’t reply. I changed my shoes, walked downstairs, and called an Uber to the Plaza. I have one major flaw: I’m very easily persuaded. If you don’t invite me, I don’t go. If you beg me to come, I go. I listen to people. Whoever ended up with me was a lucky person. 4 On the way, Harper was giving live updates in our group chat. She said the “Great-Aunt” had agreed to come, and Chloe was acting incredibly smug, taking full credit for saving the day. All traces of her previous panic were gone. “I hope this ancient ancestor has good eyesight and sees right through her ‘pick-me’ act.” “I’m worried the Matriarch is so old she won’t even be able to see straight.” Ugh. Disrespectful. “Hazel, what are you doing? Why aren’t you replying? The MC is doing his opening speech again! I think the wedding is actually starting!” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to reply; I just didn’t want to say anything un-ladylike and ruin our friendship. Thirty minutes later, I arrived at the hotel. The entire ballroom had been rented out by Liam and Chloe. Because I didn’t have an invitation, security stopped me at the door. From fifty feet away, Harper spotted me. “Hazel! Over here!” she yelled, waving wildly. Hearing the noise, Chloe, holding a glass of champagne and looking the picture of elegance, strolled over to the entrance and stopped in front of me. “Hazel, what are you doing here?” I shrugged, feigning helplessness. “I didn’t have a choice. Someone begged me to come.” “Begged you?” Chloe burst out laughing. “Who? Why wasn’t I informed?” Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, dressed in stiff, rented designer clothes, noticed the commotion and came over, looking annoyed. “Classmate of mine,” Chloe explained. “A classmate?” Mr. Jenkins gave me a dismissive once-over. “A freeloader? Just find a seat and sit down. Welcoming the Great-Aunt is the only thing that matters right now. Don’t waste time on useless people.” Mrs. Jenkins nodded vigorously in agreement. Chloe smiled. “Well, Hazel, come on in. Why don’t you sit at that table right by the door? It’s quiet, and no one will notice when you start packing up the leftovers.” “Really? Good thing I brought Tupperware,” I said nonchalantly, pulling a plastic grocery bag out of my purse and giving her a thumbs up. “You’re so generous, Chloe. No wonder you get to marry a CEO.” Mr. Jenkins’s frown deepened. He stood at the door, nervously checking his watch, discussing with his wife if they should go down to the lobby to wait. I sat at the very back table with people I didn’t know and started eating. Twenty minutes passed. Chloe used Eleanor’s phone to call the number again. “Great-Aunt, where are you? Should I come out to meet you?” I stood up from my chair, looked across the massive ballroom at Chloe, and said calmly into my phone, “I’m already here.” Chloe whipped her head around. When she realized it was me, she marched over, her face a mix of shock and rage. “Hazel! Where did you find that phone?! Where is the owner? What did you do to her?!” Wow. The way she was screaming, you’d think I’d kidnapped someone. “This is my phone. Am I not allowed to have a burner?” Chloe looked like she had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Hazel, I know you’re jealous. I know you’re mad that I’m marrying into wealth and you’re not. But you don’t have to resort to this. Tell me where the real owner of this phone is right now, and I’ll write you a check for five thousand dollars.” “Five thousand just to open your mouth? You really have struck it rich, Chloe. Big talk.” Hearing that the phone belonged to the Matriarch, Mr. Jenkins let out a furious roar. “Give me that phone!” He lunged at me, trying to physically rip the phone from my hand. I had trained in Krav Maga; if he wanted a fight, he wasn’t guaranteed to win. But wait. Wasn’t this a wedding? I had to be polite. I let him snatch the phone. But he wasn’t satisfied. “Spit it out! Where is the old lady?! Tell us right now or we’re calling the cops!” Calling the cops on a pre-law student (who was definitely going to pass her French exam)? Trying to talk law with me? I glanced at Chloe and said flatly, “Chloe, do you know what the legal penalty is for strong-arm robbery?” Mr. Jenkins wasn’t deterred at all. Looking at my casual clothes and the plastic grocery bag on the table, he sneered. “You’re trying to talk law to us? Do you even know who my daughter’s husband is?” “I heard your last name is Sterling too? Hah! Good name, wasted on trash. I don’t know how your parents raised you, but today, I’m going to teach you a lesson on their behalf.” … “You think you’re fit to mention my parents?” If I had found this amusing before, now I was just disgusted. Mr. Jenkins sneered. “Why wouldn’t I be? Look at yourself.” He clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore. He reached out to grab my collar to drag me outside. I swiftly blocked his arm, used his momentum against him, and sent him sprawling onto the floor. “You little bitch, you dare hit me?!” Mr. Jenkins cursed as he scrambled up. Harper and the girls, tired of waiting, had walked over. Seeing Mr. Jenkins try to hit me, they immediately exploded. “Who the hell do you think you’re hitting?!” The commotion drew the attention of the entire ballroom. Just as Mr. Jenkins lunged at me again, a loud, panicked voice echoed across the hall. “Aunt Hazel!” Eleanor was practically jogging over from the main stage, looking incredibly distressed. “Aunt Hazel, you’re here! Why didn’t you come straight to me? Are you mad at me?” Her booming voice made my head ring. I covered one ear and sighed. “Eleanor, your voice is still as piercing as ever.” Chloe’s eyes went wide with pure disbelief. “Hazel… you’re the Sterling family’s Great-Aunt?! Holy shit!” Harper screamed, prompting even more guests to stand up in shock. Mr. Jenkins froze entirely, collapsing back onto the floor, his legs trembling. “G-G-Great-Aunt?” I winked at Eleanor, then turned to Chloe. “Great-nephew’s wife… you were asking who invited me earlier. Do you know now?” Chloe’s lips were pressed tight, her face pale and lost. “Great-Aunt… I…” I held up a hand to silence her. I walked toward the front of the stage, Eleanor trailing half a step behind me like an obedient puppy. Along the way, members of the Sterling family looked on in shock or bowed respectfully, murmuring “Aunt Hazel,” “Great-Aunt,” “Matriarch.” To be honest, I hated this. It made me feel ancient. I was a vibrant, beautiful college student! I reached the center of the stage. Someone had already brought out a luxurious high-backed chair. I sat down and said mildly, “Come here, great-nephew’s wife. Let me get a good look at you.”

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My boyfriend loved to test my love for him. He would fake being sick, making me run out in the pouring rain to buy him medicine in the middle of the night. He would deliberately leave hickeys on his neck just to make me jealous. He would even force me to wait three hours in the rain just to show off to his friends. I unilaterally announced our breakup. Yet, he still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. On my birthday, he called me. “Alright, stop being mad. Come to the Starlight Club tonight, I have a surprise for you.” I told him I was busy today, but he didn’t believe me, scoffing: “What could you possibly be busy with?” “I’m getting married today.” 01 I had been waiting downstairs with a cake for three hours. The messages I sent him vanished into thin air like stones dropped into the ocean. Just as I was about to leave, cheers erupted from the apartment upstairs. Ethan and his friends excitedly poked their heads over the balcony, whistling. “Sister-in-law! Ethan said you would wait for him in the rain for three hours! I can’t believe it’s actually true!” “Your love story is so enviable!” “Ethan is such a lucky guy!” They were loud, surrounding Ethan and cheering him on. I stared at them blankly, the colors of everything around me slowly fading to black and white. Only Ethan remained. He had a smirk on his face, looking at me like he was looking at a little puppy that had just earned him some bragging rights. Suddenly, it felt like my chest had been violently ripped open, the cold wind rushing in, freezing and painful. Ethan waved at me. “Chloe, come here.” I looked at him for a few seconds, turned around, and walked into the rain. I had been dating Ethan for five years. From the days when he had nothing, to now, when he had established his own company. I had been the unwavering witness to his transformation from a poor boy to a small business owner. When he closed his first business deal, he held me and cried like a child. “Chloe, I will definitely, definitely treat you well. I will love you forever.” Back then, he spoke with such sincerity. So much so that I believed him without hesitation. I don’t know when he changed. I only know that in my memory, the things he left me with were no longer beautiful. He once faked being sick and made me go out in the middle of the night to buy him medicine, just to test my love. It was the dead of winter, snowing heavily. As soon as I heard he was sick, I rushed out without a second thought to get him medicine. The roads were icy, and I fell four times. When I got back, Ethan stood at the door and gave me a hug. He said, “Baby, you’re the best.” He told me he wasn’t sick, he just wanted to test my love for him. I don’t know what I felt at the time, but the pain from the bruises on my legs made my eyes sting. Another time, Ethan deliberately left hickeys from other women on his neck just to make me jealous. We had the biggest fight in history, but he turned around and posted on Facebook. [My baby really loves me, otherwise she wouldn’t be so jealous.] Over the years, he had done too many absurd things. I was losing count. Passing by a trash can, I smashed the cake in my hands into it. After so many years, Ethan had finally depleted my love for him, bit by bit. 02 Walking in the rain, I was reminded of a rainy night many years ago. At that time, Ethan and I were only sophomores in college. It started raining on my way back from tutoring. As I stepped off the bus, I looked up and saw a boy standing under the dim streetlight. He was holding an umbrella, waiting for me. The moment he saw me, he ran over with a smile. He pulled a baked sweet potato from inside his jacket and shoved it into my hands: “It’s still hot, eat it quickly.” That kind of blatant, passionate affection, it was the first time I had ever felt it. But it had only been five years. The person was the same, but everything else had changed. Actually, I had been disappointed for a long time. I just clung greedily to the beautiful moments he once gave me, which was why I kept holding onto a sliver of hope. What if? What if he changed back? The facts proved that it was just my wishful thinking. From the moment he started treating my kindness towards him as his bragging rights, the love between us had already mutated… Today was his birthday, and I originally wanted to have a serious talk with him. About us, about our future. Ethan didn’t give me that chance; he used three hours to make me face reality. There was no future between us anymore. Thinking about it that way, those three hours were actually quite worth it. Before walking out of their line of sight, I heard them talking. “Sister-in-law seems mad.” “Should you go coax her, Ethan?” Ethan’s casual voice rose slightly: “No need, she’s just throwing a tantrum.” “After all these years, I’m used to it. It won’t be long before she comes back on her own.” He was very confident. He felt that since he was successful now, even if I was stupid, I wouldn’t give up on a catch like him. But I would not be coming back. Ethan, I don’t want you anymore. 03 That entire night, Ethan didn’t call me once. The next morning, I stood downstairs and watched him leave for the office before returning to the apartment we shared. I left him a letter. I didn’t even need to pack any luggage, just my ID and passport. When I pushed the door open to leave, I couldn’t help but look back one last time. This was the apartment Ethan and I rented after graduation. At the time, it was just a bare concrete box. We decorated it ourselves, picked out furniture together, hung decorative lights together. Later, when we had money, we bought this apartment. The apartment was very small, but we never moved out. Every little detail here held our memories. Now, those memories felt like a joke. On the day I boarded the plane to leave Seattle, I changed my SIM card. I left everything related to Ethan behind in that city. Years later, I finally returned to Los Angeles. The taxi was stopped at the entrance of the prestigious Oakwood Estates: “This is a private residential area. Unauthorized entry is prohibited.” I rolled down the car window: “Uncle Charles, it’s me.” The elderly security guard looked at me with wide eyes, head lowered: “Miss! Miss, you’re finally back!” “…” There weren’t many people in the sprawling estate. So I knelt in the courtyard for an hour before someone quietly brought me a cushion. “Dad, I really know I was wrong.” My father, his hair already turning gray, lay in a rocking chair with his eyes closed. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I can still remember how fiercely determined you were when you left home for that poor boy.” “Your mother tried so hard to persuade you, but you wouldn’t listen to a single word.” “I hit you, I scolded you, but what was the result? You said you wanted to sever your ties with me…” “Dad.” My tears couldn’t be held back anymore, spilling out: “I regret it.” “From now on, I will do whatever you tell me to do.” The rocking chair stopped moving. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at me. “Since that’s the case, you should go ahead and hold the wedding with Liam first!” I froze for a moment. “Liam?” That unfamiliar name dug out memories I had almost forgotten. The Sterling family and my family were old friends. I was engaged to Liam when I was eighteen. Back when I was so fiercely determined to leave Los Angeles for Ethan, before I left, I specifically went to apologize to Liam and asked him to step forward and break off the engagement with me. What did he say back then? He said: “Growing up, when have I ever denied you anything you wanted?” So I naturally assumed that the engagement between him and me was no longer valid. I looked up, confused: “Liam, isn’t he married yet?” By my calculations, he should be thirty by now. “Who would he marry if you weren’t here?” My mom came out from inside carrying a fruit platter, put it on the table, and glanced at me: “Aren’t you going to stand up? Kneeling there is in the way.” I stumbled to my feet. I heard my mom say: “Since you’re back, the first thing you need to do is hurry to the Sterling family to apologize, and while you’re at it, go get the marriage license with Liam.” 04 When I went to the Sterling family, Liam wasn’t there. I heard he was abroad negotiating a project. The elders of the Sterling family were very happy to see me. This was quite different from the scene I had imagined; there were no cold stares or sarcastic remarks. “I heard you went abroad to clear your head these past few years. Now that you’re back, I assume you won’t be leaving again for a while?” I nodded in a daze: “Yes.” Auntie Sterling took my hand: “Back then, our Liam broke off the engagement with you without explanation. That was indeed inappropriate of our Sterling family. Your Uncle Sterling has already disciplined him, and we can understand you running abroad to clear your head.” “So now, about your marriage with Liam…” I felt so ashamed I wanted the ground to swallow me whole: “I’ll leave it entirely up to the elders of both families.” After leaving the Sterling house, I called Liam. It didn’t take many seconds for him to answer. Liam’s voice hadn’t changed much; it was still as calm and collected as ever, deep and magnetic: “Hello?” “Liam, it’s me.” Facing Liam, I felt very guilty. “I didn’t expect the engagement between us to still be…” I paused: “I thought you’d mind being entangled with someone like me, I’ll figure something out as soon as possible, to see if there’s a way to resolve this in the most peaceful…” He interrupted me before I could finish. “Mind what?” He said: “It’s not like you committed murder or arson. You just had a rather unpleasant relationship with someone else, that’s not a stain on your character.” “When is the wedding date?” He changed the subject so fast, I couldn’t react. “It hasn’t been set yet… but both sets of parents are very anxious.” “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Until the call ended, I was in a daze. Actually, kids from families like ours should have realized early on that our marriages are not in our own hands. Understanding it is one thing; accepting it calmly is another. I thought, I should learn from Liam on this point. Liam returned half a month later, and on the day he returned, he brought gifts to Oakwood Estates. He had become more mature and reserved, speaking mildly and modestly to my dad, and he effortlessly made my mom happy without showing off. No wonder they liked him so much. I watched him from the side, and the moment his gaze shifted to me, I looked down and took a sip of tea. My wedding with Liam was set for May 5th. That day was also my birthday. While getting my makeup done in the morning, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. “Hello?” “Holy crap, this number really is you!” The voice sounded exactly like Ethan’s friend, Kevin: “Sister-in-law! I finally found you!” “Sister-in-law, where have you been hiding this whole time? Ethan’s been going crazy!” I didn’t know how he found out about this number. I just frowned slightly: “Stop contacting me, he and I have already broken up.” Suddenly, there was a commotion on the other end, and someone else took the phone. “You just left me a letter and unilaterally proposed a breakup, I didn’t agree, so it doesn’t count!” It was Ethan. “Chloe, what exactly are you mad about this time? Is it just because I made you wait in the rain for three hours?” “Is such a trivial thing worth running away from home over?” I listened in silence, too lazy to even argue with him. He made me realize once again that my decision to leave was absolutely correct. “OK, I apologize.” Ethan’s voice softened: “Baby, don’t be mad, okay? I just felt insecure and wanted to test your love for me, please don’t be mad.” “Today is your birthday, I prepared a surprise for you at the Starlight Club, could you please come over?” There were cheers from men and women in the background. “Sister-in-law! Ethan’s going to propose to you!” “Whoa~ So romantic!” “Get lost!” Ethan laughed and scolded: “If you say it out loud, it’s not a surprise anymore!” Listening to the noise over there, my head throbbed, and I couldn’t help but rub my temples. The makeup artist was startled and hurriedly asked: “I’m sorry Miss Davis, did I hurt you?” “No, keep going.” “Okay Miss Davis, I will definitely make you the most beautiful bride in the world today!” On the other end, Ethan froze: “Chloe, what are you doing?” I was silent for a few seconds, then said word by word: “Ethan, I’m getting married today.” There was no sound on the other end, and just as I was about to hang up, Ethan suddenly laughed. “Chloe, you’ve learned from me, haven’t you? Are you trying to make me jealous too? You almost had me fooled.” His tone was deliberately light. I suddenly felt a sense of relief. Maybe I had figured it out, I would never have any entanglement with him again in the future. “I’m not fooling you, we got the license last month, holding the wedding today.” I also smiled: “I won’t invite you for drinks, it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to come, my husband probably wouldn’t be happy either.” “Chloe!” Ethan’s voice suddenly spiked: “Are you done making a scene or not! You…” I hung up the phone, pulled out the SIM card, and threw it in the trash. The makeup artist was also frightened by me and didn’t move for a while. I faced the mirror and smiled at her: “Sorry about that, please continue.” 05 My wedding with Liam was held in a church in Los Angeles. The scene decoration didn’t look like a standard assembly line job; it was clearly done with care. I couldn’t help but ask an assistant: “Which company did this? It’s quite nice.” The assistant replied in a low voice: “Miss Davis, this was personally designed by Mr. Sterling.” “Ah…” I was stunned. I didn’t expect Liam to be so attentive to this arranged marriage. There was someone guiding me all the way on what to do and how to do it. I just walked into the hall in a daze like that. Liam, wearing a crisp suit, had his back to me. At the priest’s signal, he turned his head and looked over. With the cheers of the crowd filling my ears, I gazed at Liam from afar. Was I seeing things? The smile in his eyes actually seemed quite sincere. Perhaps I should learn from him and perform my superficial duties to the extreme. I adjusted the expression on my face, was led forward by my father, until I placed my hand in Liam’s warm palm. The wedding proceeded very smoothly, except after the ceremony ended, we were dragged around by our parents to socialize with numerous uncles and aunties. My legs were almost worn out from all the walking. It wasn’t until 11:00 PM that we finally returned to the bridal suite. It was a small villa, the surrounding environment was very nice and quite peaceful. I went off on my own to shower and remove my makeup. By the time I finished and came out, it was already midnight. Liam was sitting on the sofa in his pajamas, his hair not completely dry, a few stray strands falling across his forehead. This was quite different from his usual meticulous, elite appearance, making him seem… much more approachable. I saw him looking down at a tablet and instinctively said: “Still working this late?” Liam’s gaze shifted from the tablet, and he looked up at me: “I’m not working, I’m waiting for you.” Liam and I really weren’t very close, and we rarely chatted. While I was wondering why he was waiting for me, I saw him put down the tablet in his hand, get up, and walk towards me. “It’s getting late.” I nodded: “Yes, it is late.” So? Liam: “Time for bed.” In my momentary distraction, Liam had already pinned me against the wall, his hand resting on the back of my head, forcing me to look up at him. I was bewildered by his sudden action. Before I could react, I felt the change in the mature male body pressing against me from the front. The air around us began to grow thick and scorching. My thoughts slowed down. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been touched by a man in a long time, maybe it was because Liam’s body was truly top-tier, or maybe it was because his gaze was too intense. I found myself inexplicably reaching out to wrap my arms around his neck. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” He and I got married today, our identities were as legal as they could possibly be. We hadn’t signed any prenuptial agreements, and I definitely didn’t plan on being celibate forever. Now that there was such a man here to pleasure me, I couldn’t really resist. In just a few seconds, I convinced myself. We’re both just getting what we need. We’re all adults here. We stumbled into the bedroom all the way. I don’t even know where the robes on our bodies were thrown. I originally thought Liam was the ascetic, aloof type, or at worst, someone who was secretly wild but outwardly proper. But who knew he didn’t even pretend, directly exposing his truest self and desires to me. The chandelier on the ceiling wasn’t lit, but it kept swaying before my eyes… The moment my thoughts drifted to the clouds, I couldn’t help but take a bite of Liam’s shoulder. He let out a muffled groan, then chuckled softly. “Chloe, why do you still love biting people so much?” I didn’t hear that sentence clearly; I was already not quite lucid by then. I don’t know how many times I bit him, I only know that when I woke up the next day, Liam had his back to me, getting dressed. The exposed muscles on his back were well-proportioned and attractive; they would look even better if you could ignore the red and purple bite marks. I silently buried my head under the covers and began to pretend to be asleep. Liam finished dressing, walked straight over, and patted my head through the blanket. “I know you’re awake, if you don’t want to get up, don’t. I’m heading to the office first, remember to eat when you get up, and if you feel uncomfortable anywhere, give me a call.” He said all of this unhurriedly. His voice was still a bit hoarse. It wasn’t until the sound of the door closing rang out that I slowly poked my head out from under the covers. Lying flat on my back on the bed, I stared blankly at the large chandelier above. This was really not what I had expected… 06 My relationship with Liam actually drew much closer after that night. He would come back at night to have dinner with me, listen to me gossip about the wealthy elite circle, and occasionally respond to me. And I would accompany him to various galas and cocktail parties, playing the role of an elegant wife by his side. As a bedmate, Liam was even more qualified. He didn’t have the habit of messing around outside, got regular health checkups, was healthy, rigorously selected by the Davis family, and always guaranteed. I became more and more satisfied with this arranged marriage. My parents also noticed my changes. “Chloe, it’s been a month since you got married, you seem to have gained a little weight, and your complexion is much better.” My mom smiled: “It shows that Liam knows how to care for people.” “They say loving someone is like raising a flower, you can tell at a glance if the flower is raised well.” Speaking of this, my mom changed her tone and sighed: “Looking at how haggard you were when you suddenly came back before, it broke my heart just looking at you.” My strong smile froze for a moment. “Tsk, I was in such a good mood.” My dad was still very quick at changing the subject: “Now that you’re married, you should settle down. How about this, come intern at the company next month, familiarize yourself with the company business.” He had the final say, arranging my future work. When I got home that evening, Liam was just heading to his study. He was meticulous in his work, sometimes staying in the study until midnight. He asked me: “Have you eaten?” “Yes?” I politely asked back: “And you?” “No.” I paused: “It’s so late… I sent you a message saying I wouldn’t be back for dinner.” Liam nodded: “I saw it, but because you weren’t here, I didn’t have much of an appetite.” What he said was a bit intriguing, and I stared at him for a few seconds without speaking. Liam walked into the study, paused, and turned to look at me: “Do you need something?” I looked away, pretending nothing had happened and picked at my nails: “Nothing much, my dad said he wants me to help out at the company. I’m planning to buy an apartment near the company, it’s too far from here, commuting isn’t very convenient.” “Then buy one.” Liam said: “Let me know when you decide on the location, I’ll have someone set it up. We’ll need to buy another set of the things we’re used to using.” Huh? We… us? I jerked my head up: “Are you moving there too?” Liam looked at me, his tone flat: “We’ve only been married for a little over a month, and you want to separate from me already?” But I actually detected a hint of grievance in that flat tone? “That’s not what I meant… If you want to move there, fine.” “Then it’s settled.” Liam smiled: “Get some sleep, wife.” Me: “?” Until he closed the study door, I was still a bit dizzy. Did Liam take the wrong medicine? Before going to work at the company, Liam and I moved into an apartment nearby. I didn’t buy a very big one, since it was just the two of us living there, and he wouldn’t be there every day, so buying a big one would be a waste. My dad didn’t publicly reveal my identity at the company, he just had me work as a small assistant by his side, teaching me by example every day, assigning me a ton of tasks. He was seriously grooming me. Once I got busy, the days flew by. In the blink of an eye, half a year had passed. In early winter, an unexpected guest arrived at the company. Kevin. When I walked past the General Manager’s office with documents, he chased right after me. “Sister-in-law?” Kevin looked at me in confusion: “Why are you here?” I didn’t expect to run into him here either, and smiled politely: “I work here, and also, I’m not your sister-in-law.” He was a bit embarrassed: “Sorry, I misspoke.” He was also an executive at a company, and was probably here to talk business today. I didn’t say much to him, walked straight into the elevator, and headed to the top floor. Kevin stood there for a few seconds, then turned and went inside. He asked the manager: “What’s the position of the young lady who was just here at your company?” “Chairman’s Assistant.” The General Manager was confused: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing.” Kevin thought for a moment and asked: “Do you know what her husband does?” The General Manager was taken aback and turned to look at his secretary. The secretary said: “Assistant Davis doesn’t seem to be married yet, right? I’ve never heard her mention her husband…” The first thing Kevin did when he left the company was to call Ethan. “Ethan! Guess who I ran into today?!”

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I confessed my love to him in French and even called him my boyfriend. The very next day, I transferred schools. Rumor had it, the school’s most popular guy went crazy looking for me. When we finally crossed paths again, it was at my French professor’s house. He turned out to be my professor’s son!!! The former golden boy gritted his teeth and said, “Long time no see, girlfriend.” 01 I had a secret crush on Noah for two years. Not long after he transferred into our class, I found out I had to transfer to another school. Carrying that regret, on the day I was leaving, I took advantage of the noisy basketball court. Gathering all my courage, I yelled: “Noah, Je t’aime.” It’s French. It means I love you. Noah, who had just sunk a three-pointer, froze. He shot me an inquisitive look. Like a thief, I quickly put away the phone I was using to secretly record him. Pretending to be perfectly calm, I gave him a thumbs-up and mouthed, “Go team!” Noah stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly a smile spread across his face. That smile seemed to possess some kind of magic, as if he saw right through me, making my heart skip a beat with a guilty conscience. 02 Soon, it was halftime. Noah tossed his basketball aside and walked straight over, sitting down right next to me. He leaned back casually, looked at me, and smiled. “What did you just say?” I nervously swallowed a gulp of non-existent saliva and bluffed: “I said, ‘Go team!’” A suspicious gaze landed on my face. He crossed his arms and studied me with a playful arrogance. “That’s not what I heard.” My chest tightened, but I argued back: “It was, I swear. I just said it in French.” There was a moment of silence. I cast a sideways glance at him. He looked thoughtful, a fleeting, barely noticeable glimmer of mischief crossing his face. He smirked. “Sounds nice.” Confused by the sudden compliment, I blinked. “Huh?” His smile deepened, and he slowed his speech. “I said, that French phrase sounds really nice.” Remembering what that French phrase actually meant, my cheeks instantly burned like fireballs. I opened and closed my mouth for a long time, but couldn’t get a single word out. 03 Noah, however, seemed inexplicably delighted, the smile reaching his eyes. He pointed at the basketball court, raising an eyebrow. “Emma, how about this: every time I score a point later, you use that French phrase to cheer for me. Okay?” “What?” My eyes went wide, my brain practically smoking. Every time he scored, I had to yell “I love you”? No, no, no, I still needed to show my face in public. Seeing me speechless, he decided for himself: “Let’s consider it your contribution to class spirit, yeah?” Then, without waiting for an answer: “It’s settled then.” And he jogged back onto the court. I sat there, dumbfounded. Contribution to class spirit, my foot. Right now, I didn’t care about the class at all; I just wished he would miss every shot. After all, I was a timid rule-follower. I only dared to do things secretly, like harboring a crush. I absolutely did not dare to yell it out loud, even in a foreign language. But things rarely go as planned. He hadn’t been back on the court for more than a few minutes before he sank another three-pointer. He smugly waved at me, signaling me to deliver that special “cheer.” My attempt to play dead failed, so I timidly mouthed the words. He didn’t seem satisfied. While dribbling the ball, he ran over to my side of the court. With a wicked grin, he said, “Emma, you haven’t cheered for me yet.” I was riding a tiger and couldn’t get off. I glanced around nervously, then reluctantly muttered in a low voice: “Noah, Je t’aime.” Only then did he jog away, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Leaving me alone, blushing furiously, a complete mess. Noah seemed to have gained some sort of divine power. He played with even more swagger, sinking shot after shot. I shouted “Noah, Je t’aime” so many times I went numb. 04 I barely survived until the end of the game. I grabbed my backpack and bolted. But I had only reached the school gates when Noah caught up to me. He said I worked hard cheering for him, so he absolutely had to buy me boba. He basically dragged me to the boba shop. Thinking about how I wasn’t really “cheering” for him at all, I blushed and pulled out my phone, rushing to pay the bill. But the screen wouldn’t turn on. I realized my phone had died. The embarrassment hit me, and I felt another wave of heat wash over me. Noah chuckled, paid the cashier, and thoughtfully poked the straw into my cup for me. “Since when do girls pay when guys are around?” I awkwardly muttered a thank you. Noah shook his head, lowered his eyes, and looked straight at me. “Emma, we’re friends now, right?” I paused, then raised my boba cup to clink against his. “Of course.” He seemed to think for a moment, then smiled and asked, “So, how do you say ‘guy friend’ and ‘girl friend’ in French?” Guy friend and girl friend? Boyfriend and girlfriend? I chewed on a boba pearl and answered without thinking: “Girlfriend is petite amie. Boyfriend is petit ami.” “Oh.” He looked as if he’d just had a profound realization. His smile vanished, replaced by an earnest, questioning look. “So, you are my petite amie, and I am your petit ami, right?” I choked on a boba pearl and coughed violently, nearly dying right there. The current state of our relationship definitely did not warrant those two words. Those words are exclusively for romantic partners. We were just ordinary friends. I was just about to correct him when a wicked thought flashed through my mind. He didn’t understand anyway, and it perfectly satisfied my unspoken, selfish desire. So, ignoring the loud banging of my own conscience, I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah’s eyes crinkle in a smile. He looked absolutely elated, as if he had just won the lottery. Suppressing my shyness, I couldn’t help but smile along with him. 05 The early autumn wind whistled past, carrying the sweet scent of blooming osmanthus. Under the oak tree by the bus stop, our wind-filled, uniform-clad silhouettes were stretched long by the setting sun. Looking at the shadows merging on the ground, my heart raced. Noah seemed to suddenly remember something. He pulled a notebook from his backpack and handed it to me. “I just jotted some things down. If you need it, take it.” I took a look. It was full of detailed explanations and diagrams for the calculus problems I couldn’t solve. My jaw dropped in surprise. “How did you know I needed this?” I saw the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Uh, just thought it might be useful.” I clutched the notebook to my chest, incredibly grateful. “This is so useful. I love you to death.” I was so excited that the phrase “I love you to death,” which I used constantly at home, just slipped out. We both froze, instantly turning red. “T-that, I misspoke,” I hurriedly explained. “Oh,” Noah replied flatly, his tone unreadable. But when he suddenly turned his head and gave me a smile, I thought I caught a glimpse of deep affection. When the clouds were painted a fiery orange, my bus home finally arrived. Noah walked me to the door of the bus. I sat by the window and waved goodbye. He waved back. “See you Monday, petite amie.” See you Monday, girlfriend. I pressed a hand to my chest to keep my heart from leaping out. I was so nervous I didn’t know where to look. Remembering he didn’t understand anyway, I forced myself to nod calmly. “Oh, okay.” Noah seemed thrilled, a smile lingering on his lips. Honestly, I was thrilled too. As the bus pulled away, I could no longer hide the joy bubbling inside me. In a place he couldn’t see, I broke into a massive, goofy grin. By the time I realized we probably wouldn’t actually be seeing each other on Monday, the bus was already far away. 06 As soon as I got home, I rushed to plug in my phone, thinking I needed to add Noah on Snapchat first. I needed to give him a proper goodbye. But before my phone even turned back on, my mom snatched it away. “Leave it here to charge. Your aunt wants to take us out to a farewell dinner, let’s go.” I reluctantly followed my mom to the restaurant. My parents had always worked out of state. I grew up living with my grandparents. Now, my mom finally got a job transfer back to their home office so she could take care of me, and everyone was celebrating. But I was the only one distracted, my mind entirely on Noah. I ate that meal feeling like a year had passed. I finally made it through the dinner. When we got home, I tried to grab my phone again, but my mom stopped me. “Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow. We have to be up by 5. Hurry up and get ready for bed.” I was anxious and tried to beg, but it was useless. I had no choice but to angrily comply. It wasn’t until we landed in our new city the next day that I finally got my phone back. But then I discovered… my Snapchat account had been deleted. The phone number I was using was registered under my grandmother’s name. Since I was moving away with my mom, my grandma had canceled that line. Afraid my account might get hacked and used for scams, she was very cautious and had my aunt log in and delete the associated Snapchat account too. My Instagram was also linked to that number, and I always logged in via SMS code. I had completely forgotten the password. Now, everything was gone. … I threw myself onto my bed in despair. “Mom, why did you guys cancel my number without telling me?!” My mom looked innocent. “I wasn’t involved! But Grandma said she already messaged your teachers and confirmed there was nothing important going on, so she felt comfortable canceling it. She also said she posted a goodbye message on your story for you. She said you should just focus on your studies.” I wanted to cry but had no tears left. Gee… thanks, Grandma. Hearing me complain about losing contact with my friends, my mom warned me that academics were the priority, and strictly limited my phone usage. Thinking about how my crush, which was so close to being reciprocated, was crushed in the cradle just like that, I was heartbroken. But I knew my mom was strict, especially about high school dating. I knew resistance was futile, so I helplessly accepted my fate. 07 After that, I was busy adapting to a new school, new teaching styles, and new classmates. I temporarily shelved the idea of contacting Noah. I didn’t have the time, nor the means. When I finally calmed down and thought about it, even if my feelings were reciprocated, it wasn’t the right time to date. Not only were we thousands of miles apart, but we were also in the highly stressful junior year of high school. Everything pointed to the fact that a temporary separation was the best outcome. But naturally, I felt regretful that I couldn’t give him a proper goodbye. However, this was the only way for now. I could only wait until after graduation to contact him again. If possible, then… With a thousand thoughts running through my mind, I sighed and muttered to myself, “Let fate decide.” After moping for a few days, I adjusted my mindset and threw myself entirely into studying. For Christmas that year, I traveled out of state with my mom to reunite with my dad, so we didn’t go back to my hometown. I had essentially lost all contact with Noah and my old friends completely. 08 Six months later, I got into my dream university and finally regained my phone freedom. With my grandmother’s help, I finally managed to contact my old best friend, Maya. After catching up on family gossip and crying over how much we missed each other, Maya brought up Noah. “What did you do to him? He went crazy looking for you. He cornered me every day asking for your contact info. I told him I didn’t have it, but he wouldn’t believe me. Finally, I showed him your deleted Snapchat profile, and he reluctantly accepted it, but he cursed you out, calling you a liar.” I felt a pang of guilt and deep apology. After all, in the internet age, disappearing without even a “goodbye” is pretty messed up. But I was also curious. Was our friendship, built on a single boba tea, really worth him going crazy trying to find me? “Did he mention why he was looking for me?” “No, but he did ask about which colleges you were aiming for. He was pretty depressed for a while. I almost thought you two had dated. Later on, he started dating a girl from another school. Her name is Chloe. He was super into her. I heard he even got custom-made bracelets with her name engraved on them.” My expression froze. The words “Can you help me get his contact info?” died in my throat. I couldn’t hide the disappointment welling up inside me. I gave a flat “Oh.” “Right, Noah told me before that if I ever got your contact info, I should tell him immediately…” “Don’t tell him. We weren’t that close anyway.” He probably only said those things when he didn’t have a girlfriend. Now that he had one, reconnecting with him was pointless. After all, my intentions toward him weren’t pure. I didn’t want to use the excuse of being “just a friend” to peek into someone else’s happiness and just add to my own misery. Since we missed our chance, let it go. Cutting off all contact completely was the smart decision. Even though my heart ached and I envied that girl named Chloe, I was, after all, only Emma. 09 Maya then started talking about her new boyfriend and asked if I was seeing anyone. I answered absentmindedly, “Yeah, a few guys.” Not caring about Maya’s screams on the other end, I made an excuse and hung up. My long-held hopes had fallen through. I sat on the balcony of my dorm, staring blankly. I opened an app and ordered a six-pack of beer, mourning my long-lost crush. While I was half-drunk, my roommate Mia came back. She looked totally lovesick. She grabbed me and started shaking me. “Emma, Emma! I saw the French professor’s son today. He is so handsome. His posture, his face… He should still be in the professor’s office right now. Let me take you to feast your eyes.” She couldn’t stop praising him. I scoffed and slapped her hand away. So what if he’s handsome? Can he be more handsome than Noah? I’ve never seen anyone better looking than him. Seeing that I was unmoved, she finally noticed the empty beer bottles next to me. “What’s wrong with you?” “Heartbreak.” “What?! With who? When?” She fired off three questions in terror. “It was a crush.” I told her about my crush that almost blossomed into a relationship. After listening, she also felt a sense of regret. “You were so close, if only you hadn’t transferred. Sigh… it’s in the past. Crushes are like that, regrets are normal.” As she spoke, she popped open a beer too. “It’s fine, I’ll introduce you to someone else. How about the professor’s son? He is absolutely your type.” I rolled my eyes at her and said sarcastically, “Why don’t you introduce me to the university president’s son, or all the hot, smart guys at our school while you’re at it?” Her eyes lit up. She threw her arm around me and patted her chest, guaranteeing: “I will! I definitely will. Leave it to me.” I let out a “Tch,” not taking her seriously at all, assuming she was just joking. I went about my business, washed up, and went to sleep. 10 The next evening, I went to a meeting for the Translation Club. The upperclassmen kept casting pitying glances at me. After some simple consolations, they started aggressively praising our club president, Liam. Only then did I realize that Mia had gotten totally drunk again. Not only had she spilled the beans about my “heartbreak,” but she had also taken my drunken joke from the night before as my actual standard for a partner, and was actively recruiting boyfriends for me in the club. In the end, everyone agreed that President Liam fit my criteria perfectly, and they started trying to set us up. President Liam was not only the president of our Translation Club, but also the nephew of our French professor. He had great grades and was very handsome. It’s just that his personality was a bit too mature and serious. He always gave off a “parental” vibe. He felt like an elder in my family. I only had respect for him, no sparks whatsoever. So, I rejected the idea without a second thought: “Guys, stop joking around. Liam and I are like brother and sister.” As I spoke, I looked over at Liam, signaling him to back me up. But he didn’t say a word, and he actually blushed. After a few seconds of confusion, I panicked. Could he actually… Seeing Liam’s silence, the crowd got even more excited. “The president is silently agreeing! Little Emma, you should seriously consider the president. We’re waiting for your answer.” “Yeah, yeah! We’re waiting for you to become the club’s First Lady.” My head was pounding. I didn’t know how to defuse the situation, so I just glared at Mia, that drunkard. Just then, there was a knock on the door. The French professor stood outside, smiling brightly. “I’ve been listening for a while. You guys are so lively.” The troublemakers, never ones to shy away from drama, added fuel to the fire: “Professor, you’re just in time! Emma is heartbroken and looking for a boyfriend. We think the president is a great match, so we’re shipping them.” “The president is your nephew! If they get together, Emma will be your niece-in-law, Professor!” Hearing this, the professor chuckled. “That’s a nice thought. I really adore Emma. But you can’t force matters of the heart. Plus, Emma just had her heart broken, so keep the jokes within reason.” The professor heard everything! I felt so humiliated…

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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 🔍 search for “416062”, and watch the full series ✨! #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 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “416078”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

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.”

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