Category: English

For five years, I was Sebastian Croft’s mistress. Then, I finally got the promotion. The woman who once screamed herself hoarse, calling me a shameless homewrecker, signed the divorce papers with the stillness of a stagnant pond. Before she left, she asked me a single, weightless question: “Do you believe in karma?” I laughed. If karma was real, I wouldn’t be sitting here, about to become the next Mrs. Croft. She had no one to blame but herself. She’d let herself become a bitter, washed-up housewife, incapable of holding on to her man. Once I had the title, I never slacked. I was relentless with my fitness, my skincare, my regular beauty appointments. Seven years into our marriage, Sebastian was still completely captivated by me. Even the two children she’d left behind, Aaron and Anna, now clung to me, their birth mother a distant memory. I always believed that karma was just a curse whispered by losers on their way out. Until today. From the leather of Sebastian’s belt, I found it. A single strand of bubblegum-pink hair, curled and caught near the buckle. 1 Sebastian always loved my long, straight black hair. Back when we were first together, whenever he was stressed, he would bury his face in it. The faint scent was enough to calm him. He despised what he called “tacky, artificial” hair colors. So, from the moment I was with him, I babied my hair, never daring to dye or perm it. For twelve years, it remained a flawless sheet of black silk. But this strand of hair—a pale, chemical pink—was tangled right where his belt would press against his waist. I could almost picture the position that put it there. “What’s wrong? You’ve been standing out on the balcony forever.” His voice was a low murmur behind me. “It’s windy. You’ll catch a cold.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder in that familiar, possessive way. Then he saw the hair pinched between my fingers. Sebastian froze for a fraction of a second. The next moment, his long, elegant fingers deftly flicked the pink strand away. It fluttered to the ground, disappearing into the dusk. “Let’s go back inside. It’s cold.” He acted as if nothing had happened. I remained still, waiting. The silence stretched, but no explanation came. “Don’t you have anything you want to say to me?” I finally asked. Sebastian paused, seemingly surprised I would press the issue. He studied me for a long moment, his tone still infuriatingly casual. “Must have gotten caught on me during a dinner meeting.” “Accidentally?” This wasn’t the first time. I’d smelled perfume on his collar that wasn’t mine. I’d found a tube of hot pink lipstick wedged in the passenger seat. I knew the kind of world Sebastian moved in; there were always women trying to claw their way up. But their attempts were usually so pathetic, so low-class. Sebastian was above that. But now, the evidence was right in front of me, impossible to ignore. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “It seems so easy for trash to get close to you.” “Tsk.” The word “trash” seemed to strike a nerve. He looked down at me, a faint, mocking glint in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Don’t forget where you came from.” 2 I froze, the words hitting me like a physical slap. My face burned. I looked up at him in disbelief, but all I saw was his cool, condescending gaze. In the beginning, we had fallen together. But now, it seemed I was the only one who came out covered in mud. “Victoria, don’t make a scene.” Sebastian leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, but his words were ice. “Isn’t it enough to just be Mrs. Croft?” He let me go and walked away without a backward glance. On the table, the candles on our seventh-anniversary cake still flickered. He’d been on a business trip overseas; we hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. I’d begged for days, and he’d finally postponed a major project to come home for me. A gust of wind swept across the balcony, making the flames dance wildly, threatening to extinguish them. My phone buzzed. It was a message from the private investigator I’d hired a few days ago. Mr. Davies:[Ruby. 23 years old.] [Hired at H Corp three years ago, no interview. Position: Executive Secretary.] [Ms. Vance, H Corp is a subsidiary of Croft Industries.] [Current residence is in the villas over in Eastwood. Phone number xxxxx.] My finger dialed the number before I even consciously decided to. A cheerful, upbeat ringtone filled the silence. I stopped breathing. It was a matching version of Sebastian’s own ringtone. When we first started dating, I had begged him to use a matching one with me. He indulged my every other whim, but on that, he refused. His reason: “Darling, this number is for business, too.” He’d bought me a closet full of limited-edition bags to make up for it. Now, a sweet, feminine voice sang through the phone, over and over. A burning jealousy seared its way up my throat. My fingertips trembled as the call connected. I said nothing. Neither did she. After a few seconds of silence, a soft laugh came from the other end. Ruby’s voice was confident, as if she’d been expecting this all along. “Well? Finally couldn’t take it anymore?” That tone, those words. They were so familiar. Eight years ago, when his ex-wife, Eleanor, had found me for the first time, she’d stormed in, screaming, and slapped me across the face. I had looked at her, then, and smiled. “Losing your composure, Mrs. Croft?” “This look on your face… it’s truly ugly.” “No wonder Sebastian wouldn’t even show me a picture of you.” Eleanor had shaken with rage, the loose skin on her face and body trembling with her. Remembering that twisted, aging face, I glanced down at my own reflection in the dark screen of my phone. My skin was still firm, meticulously maintained. Even in my late thirties, I was flawless. I took a deep breath, my voice steady. “So you were waiting for me? Then let’s talk.” Ruby had clearly wanted to provoke me. My calmness seemed to bore her. “Fine by me.” See, Eleanor? There’s a difference between one Mrs. Croft and another. Even when faced with the same betrayal, I, Victoria Vance, can handle it so much better than you ever could. 3 Unlike Eleanor, who had come at me like a cornered animal, all rage and reckless words, destroying the last shred of pity Sebastian had for her, I came prepared. I had a spa treatment beforehand. I wore the latest haute couture dress. I chose the location: a quiet, atmospheric café. The PI’s file was thorough. Ruby’s life was an open book. She’d latched onto Sebastian when he gave a lecture at her university. She was aggressive. Poor family, a father with a gambling problem who’d done time. She’d had a rebellious phase in high school, running with a bad crowd. Even more low-class than I imagined. But even with all that information, when her face appeared across the table from me, I was stunned. She was an eight-point ringer for Eleanor. She even had the same faint beauty mark under her eye. In my mind, I saw the knowing looks from the guests at my wedding. I heard Sebastian’s friends, who used to privately call me “Little Eleanor.” After the wedding, I had consciously dressed in a style completely opposite to hers, desperate to escape that shadow. But this girl… she looked more like Eleanor than I ever had. A wave of absurdity washed over me. It couldn’t be. Ruby crossed her arms and waved away the waiter. “Just a glass of warm milk, please.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Cat got your tongue? You’re the one who wanted to talk.” She wasn’t even wearing makeup. Her face was bare, her skin glowing under a simple, loose-fitting cotton sundress. Even her pink hair, a color that should have looked garish and washed-out without a full face of cosmetics, looked effortlessly chic on her. I glanced at my own reflection in the window, at the face that required a full application of makeup to look this perfect. My fingers tightened on my clutch. I pushed the prepared credit card across the table. “There’s five million on this. It’s enough—” Enough for her to lift her entire family out of the gutter. Ruby laughed. “Are you kidding me, Grandma? Is that what you give to beggars?” “Do you have any idea how much Sebastian gives me a month?” For seven years, Sebastian had kept me in a gilded cage. “All you need to do is be happy and be Mrs. Croft,” he’d once said. I rarely got involved in his business, aside from major galas. I knew nothing of the company’s finances or assets. I fought to keep my composure, ignoring the taunt in her eyes. “How long do you think a relationship like yours can last? Ambition is fine, but in this situation, it might not be a good thing.” Ruby burst out laughing. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes, looking at me as if I were a clown. “Oh, that’s rich… hahaha.” “Victoria, have you forgotten how you became Mrs. Croft in the first place?” After a moment, she straightened up, her hand gently resting on her stomach. “And besides… I’m not like you.” 4 No makeup. The dark roots of her hair showing. The glass of milk. And under the loose cotton dress, a barely perceptible swell. My head spun. No… it’s not possible. Seven years ago, in my first month as the new Mrs. Croft, I had gotten pregnant. When I joyfully told Sebastian, he had looked at my stomach, his expression gentle, but his voice was absolute. “Darling, I don’t want to hurt Aaron and Anna.” “They’ve already lost their mother. I don’t want them to have another reason to hate me.” Aaron and Anna. His twins with Eleanor. Divorcing her, he felt his only failure was to his children. He didn’t want another child with me. After the chemical abortion, as I lay in the hospital bed, Sebastian had promised me, “Aaron and Anna are your children now. Our children.” For seven years, I had honored that promise. I never dared to dream of having a child of my own. And now, Ruby was pregnant. Her sharp laughter was like a poison-tipped needle, stabbing into my heart. The pain was so intense I could barely sit upright. The next thing I knew, the warm milk had been thrown all over her. “Victoria! How dare you!” she shrieked. I looked down at my trembling hand, the empty glass rolling off the table and shattering on the floor. “Get in here! Slap her!” The door to our private room burst open. A large, imposing man stepped inside. When his eyes met mine, he flinched. It was Alex, Sebastian’s personal bodyguard. He had been assigned to me when we first got together. He’d been reassigned four years into our marriage, right around the time Sebastian met Ruby. Four years… The pieces clicked into place, forming a tight, painful knot in my mind. “What are you waiting for? Hit her!” Ruby screamed. The bodyguard hesitated. “Maybe… we should inform Mr. Croft first…” “Alex, are you disobeying me now?” Ruby sneered. “What did Sebastian tell you when he assigned you to me?” I looked up at Alex. He was Sebastian’s most trusted man, with him for over a decade. He knew Sebastian better than I did. What Sebastian valued, Alex valued. His hesitation gave me a sliver of insane hope. I grabbed my purse and stood, my head held high, ready to walk out. But a hand blocked my path. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Croft.” A stinging slap sent me reeling to the floor, my cheek burning. The world went blurry, the sounds around me distorted. I clutched my face, trying to clear my head. Then, Ruby’s phone rang. A familiar, gentle voice filled the room. “Why aren’t you at home? Where did you run off to now?” “Oww,” Ruby whined, her voice thick with fake tears. “It hurts.” Sebastian, who was supposed to be in another country for the rest of the week, appeared in less than half an hour. He meticulously checked Ruby from head to toe, ensuring she wasn’t burned. Only then did his expensive leather shoes turn towards me. “You promised me,” I whispered, looking at his face, searching for a trace of guilt. “You said you wouldn’t have any more children.” Sebastian looked down at me, his eyes cold, as if observing an insect. “I told you,” he said, his voice a soft, terrifying echo of his once-tender tone, “to behave.” “Victoria, if you can’t control yourself… I’ll have to send you to a hospital.”

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On my wedding anniversary, I slapped my sister Summer and she miscarried. Everyone called me a monster. “You must pay for what you’ve done.” My husband Tom and my parents forced me to sign divorce papers, then sent me to a detention center. I was released on Tom and Summer’s wedding day. I didn’t make a scene. I took a train and vanished. … Seven years later. We met outside a rural ER. Tom was there with his wife, who was threatening to miscarry. I was the doctor on duty. “Audrey?” He froze, eyes locking on the scar across my palm. “You…” He trailed off under my calm, detached gaze. “Family, wait outside.” My voice was professional, empty. After the emergency, I explained the aftercare. Tom nodded, distracted. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you come home? We were worried.” A child’s voice cut in behind me. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” Tom stared at the little face—so like his own—and his eyes reddened. “Is she…” 1 Just then, a nurse called for me. I gave Tom a polite nod, took my daughter’s fair little hand, and quickly left. “Mommy, who was that uncle just now?” My daughter looked back curiously. My voice was flat. “A patient’s family member.” “He seemed to be crying, and he kept looking at us.” I didn’t stop walking. “You saw wrong.” The nanny who usually looked after my daughter had an emergency, so I had no choice but to bring my daughter to the hospital. Thankfully, the nanny just called me. Her task was done, and she would be right over to pick up the child. That evening, emergencies kept coming in. I was busy until late into the night before I finally dragged my tired body back to my office. I hadn’t expected Tom to be waiting at the door. I frowned slightly. “Mr. Robbins, is there anything else?” The overly formal address made Tom falter for a moment. “Mr. Robbins, rest assured, Mrs. Robbins’s condition is not serious. After observing her overnight, if there are no issues, she can be discharged tomorrow morning.” My tone was no different from how I spoke to other patients’ families. Perhaps the words “Mrs. Robbins” struck a nerve. I clearly saw Tom’s eyes redden, emotions churning. It was as if he had a thousand words to say, but his lips quivered twice, and in the end, he only managed to say two words in a muffled voice: “Thank you.” “If Mr. Robbins has nothing else, I’m going off duty. If you need anything, you can find other doctors on call.” I nodded slightly, turning to leave. As I passed the nurses’ station, a young nurse gossiped, grabbing my arm. “Dr. Sterling, was that Mr. Tom Robbins, the most famous lawyer in Southwood?” I nodded. “Yes.” “I heard Mr. Robbins has never lost a case since he started practicing. He’s known as a legend in the entire legal world.” “Handsome, gentle, and wealthy. Mrs. Robbins must be so happy. I heard they came this time to pray for the baby in Mrs. Robbins’s belly.” As the young nurse spoke, her eyes were filled with undisguised admiration for Tom and undisguised envy for Mrs. Robbins. I smiled, saying nothing. The current Mrs. Robbins was indeed very happy. She had a loving husband, doting parents, and a baby on the way. She truly had everything. Almost no one knew she was the mistress who took the wife’s place. My phone vibrated, bringing me back to reality. [Sorry, an emergency came up at the company. I’ll be late picking you up.] I subtly curled my lips and replied: [You go ahead. I’ll take a cab home.] Almost immediately after I sent the message, I received a reply: [Be careful on the way. Remember to text me when you get home.] Putting my phone away, I noticed that snow had started to fall outside at some point. I waited for a long time, but my ride-sharing app remained unanswered. “Beep beep!” A car horn sounded behind me. A black Porsche Cayenne slowly pulled up beside me. I recognized it as Tom’s car at a glance. Only because his license plate number was my sister Summer’s birthday. And my birthday was only one day after Summer’s. The passenger window slowly lowered, revealing Tom’s sharply defined jawline. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” Looking at the ride-sharing app still spinning, I only thought for a few seconds before opening the back door and getting in, then stating my apartment complex’s name. I was truly tired today and wanted to get home to rest early. And with the sudden change in weather, the scars on my palm and abdomen were aching and itching. Since there was a ready car, why not take it? Tom had a strong sense of territory. I once wanted to put a small ornament in his car, but it wasn’t allowed. Now, the car was filled with Summer’s favorite gardenia scent. Everything in sight was Summer’s favorite pink decor. Seeing me sitting in the back, Tom gave a self-deprecating smile. “Are you really treating me like a chauffeur?” My voice was flat. “Just didn’t want your wife to misunderstand.” The words “your wife” acted like a mute spell. Whatever Tom wanted to say next was swallowed back. The car plunged into a suffocating silence. 2 I said no more, turning my head to look out the window. The changing light outside flashed, and in a daze, I found myself recalling that day seven years ago. The darkest day of my life. It was my third wedding anniversary with Tom. I, away on a business trip, had flown back overnight, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I accidentally stumbled upon Tom and my sister Summer’s affair. They were in my marital home, on my marital bed, engaged in passionate lovemaking. Both were so engrossed that they didn’t notice me standing at the door for a long time. Until Summer inadvertently turned her head. “Audrey!” Summer’s eyes widened, and she shrieked. I thought Tom, caught in the act, would at least be ashamed, if not panicked. But I was wrong. Tom didn’t rush to explain himself to me. Instead, he gently covered Summer with the blanket, hiding the glaring, intimate marks on her body. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” Tom, far from feeling guilty, spoke with a tone of blame. At that time, my temper was fiery, unable to tolerate even a speck of dirt. In that instant, resentment and fury almost burned away my sanity. I became hysterical, like a madwoman, attacking them with the most venomous words, smashing everything I could in the room. The room was a mess. Summer, terrified, cowered behind Tom, trembling. “Audrey, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. Tom and I just couldn’t help ourselves.” Summer’s voice was distinctly tearful. At that moment, her eyes were misty, like a delicate white lotus, innocent and helpless. She was completely different from the passionate, uninhibited woman in bed just moments before. Tom protectively shielded Summer behind him, looking at me with condemnation. “You scared Summer!” “Look at you now. What’s the difference between you and a madwoman?” I also felt like I was insane. I sent photos and videos of Summer and Tom to the family group chat. I wanted everyone to see their ugly faces. Who knew, just as the video was sent, my parents’ scolding calls came in. “Audrey Sterling, have you gone mad?” “Quickly recall those photos and videos! If others see them, how will Summer ever show her face again?” My parents had always favored Summer, ever since she was abducted on the street as a child. She wasn’t found until she was eighteen. To make up for years of absence, my parents were exceptionally indulgent and doting towards her. They even demanded that I always defer to my sister, and that Summer should always come first. Even our birthdays, because mine was only one day after Summer’s, my parents insisted that I celebrate a day early with her. But the birthday cake always had only Summer’s name on it. But I never expected that even in this matter, my parents would unconditionally defend Summer. “You and Tom should divorce.” My sister was having an affair with my husband behind my back. My parents not only didn’t blame her but forcefully demanded that Tom and I divorce. “Why?” I questioned unwillingly. Summer was clearly the one at fault, so why should I give my husband to her? My parents’ bias had no bounds. My chest felt crushed by a huge rock, making it hard to breathe, almost suffocating. “Summer is your sister. As an older sister, you should defer to her.” Apparently dissatisfied with my obvious question, Mom frowned, her tone extremely impatient. I instinctively looked at Tom, at the man I had once loved more than life itself. However, Tom just looked at me coldly, with no intention of explaining anything. Summer leaned weakly into Tom’s arms. “Audrey, Tom doesn’t love you anymore. We’re truly in love. Please, let us be.” “So you know he’s your brother-in-law?” “Do you have any sense of propriety or shame?” Enraged, I slapped Summer hard. 3 Summer swayed, hitting a nearby coffee table. “Ugh—” Summer cried out in pain, clutching her lower abdomen, her face a mask of agony. “Summer!” Tom’s expression changed abruptly. “My stomach, my stomach hurts so much.” Summer’s face was ashen, her voice trembling. Tom scooped up Summer and rushed towards the hospital. As he passed me, his eyes were as fierce as if I had committed some heinous crime. But I knew perfectly well that Summer had clearly thrown herself against it. It was then that I realized Summer and Tom had been secretly involved for a long time and that she was already pregnant. After several hours of treatment, the child still couldn’t be saved. “Are you satisfied now?” Father’s face was flushed red, furious. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. This slap, Father used all his strength. My cheek burned, and my eardrum buzzed. However, the physical pain was less than a fraction of the pain in my heart. Everyone blamed me for causing Summer to lose her child, forcing me to kowtow and apologize to Summer. Of course, I wouldn’t agree. The consequence of my stubbornness was that Tom and my parents successively pressured the hospital where I worked, revoking my eligibility for promotion. My imminent promotion thus fell through. They even used this as leverage, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Subsequently, I was collectively sent to a detention center by the three people closest to me. “If you do something wrong, you must accept the punishment.” “We’ll pick you up when you realize your mistake.” I smiled bitterly in my heart. Home? What home did I have left? The moment I discovered Tom and Summer’s affair, my home was gone. Once inside, I was maliciously targeted. I ate stale food and drank swill. I also frequently suffered unprovoked beatings… While I was being tortured to the point of wishing for death, my husband and my parents were traveling abroad with my sister. It wasn’t until a month later, when they returned, that they heard I had almost died inside. After a full eight hours of emergency treatment, I was pulled back from the brink of death. When Tom and my parents rushed to the hospital, I had already been sent back to my room. However, seeing me on the bed, emaciated and unrecognizable from the torment, Tom’s first words were: “Do you realize your mistake now?” “Don’t forget you still owe Summer an apology. Use this time to recover and think about how you’re going to apologize to her. Because of you, Summer has been very upset and almost suffered from depression.” Tom’s voice was cold and hard, his tone so indifferent as if I were just an unimportant stranger. They say there’s no greater sorrow than a dead heart. If my heart died when Tom and my parents sent me to the detention center, then after hearing Tom’s words just now, my heart died even more completely. In that moment, I lost all desire to argue. My tone was flat, devoid of any emotion: “I realized my mistake!” I was wrong. Wrong for being blind in love, falling for a cold-hearted, ruthless man like Tom. Wrong for foolishly expecting love from my parents, even knowing their blatant favoritism. Tom occasionally glanced at me through the rearview mirror, several times appearing to want to speak but stopping himself. It wasn’t until the car stopped at the entrance of the apartment complex that I opened the door, got out, and politely said, “Thank you.” Just as I turned to leave, Tom finally couldn’t help but call out, “Audrey!” I stopped, turned around, and quietly waited for him to continue. “Why are you living in a place like this?” “These past few years, have you… not been doing well?” Tom spoke while looking around the neighborhood. The lights were dim, the rickety iron gate rusty. The building exterior was mottled and dilapidated. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice hoarse: “Do you want me to help you…” “No, I’m doing very well. Thank you for your concern.” I didn’t understand. The man who had been so cruel and heartless towards me, who forced me to divorce him and sent me to prison, why was he now acting so genuinely concerned?

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“Garret, that woman’s face, after getting burned saving Lyra… it’s going to be so grotesque to look at.” Outside the hospital room, the brother’s jest was entirely undisguised. Garret Winters exhaled a puff of smoke, his voice dripping with undisguised disgust. “Ghastly. One look is enough to make me sick.” “If it wasn’t to ensure Lyra’s safe escape, why would I lie and tell her to rush into the fire? Once Lyra’s tour is over, a fat check will be enough to send that woman away.” The agonizing pain of changing the dressings on my severely burned back couldn’t compare to Garret Winters’s flippant words at that moment. I touched the blood seeping through the bandages on my face, forcing back tears. To save his beloved, I became this? I pulled out the IV needle from the back of my hand, dragging my injured body towards the heavily guarded, exclusive ward of the Sterling Corporation at the top floor of the hospital. The two well-dressed bodyguards at the door, seeing my appearance, immediately turned red-eyed. They straightened their backs and bowed deeply. “Chairman, the Young Miss has been found!” I leaned weakly against the wall, my voice cold. “Dad, take me back to the estate. It’s time for the Winters Group to disappear.” 1 The hospital room door was violently pulled open from the inside. My father, Chairman Sterling, rushed in. The moment he saw me, this decisive titan of the business world, the chairman of the Sterling Corporation, his eyes instantly welled up. Father extended his hands. They trembled uncontrollably, wanting to touch me, yet afraid to. I was draped in an oversized hospital gown, and the blood and bodily fluids seeping from my back had soaked through the fabric. Half of my face was wrapped in bandages, revealing only one eye. “Iris…” Father’s throat emitted a hoarse sound. “Who did this?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Excessive blood loss coupled with a severe infection made my vision begin to blacken. My legs grew weak. I fell forward. Father caught me in his arms. The place where he touched me was scalding hot with blood. The chief bodyguard beside him, eyes red, clenched his fists. “Chairman, I’ll go cripple that beast!” Chairman Sterling gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead. “Summon the top global medical team, now!” I completely lost consciousness. In my delirium, the thick smoke from the fire again filled my nostrils. When the beam crashed down, Garret Winters had grabbed my shoulder and violently shoved me into the inferno. Using that recoil, he tightly shielded Lyra and rolled out of the burning building. Flames licked at my back. The smell of burning flesh filled my mind. I convulsed in pain, suddenly opening my eyes. I saw the ceiling of the Sterling Private Hospital’s exclusive ward. The wound on my back had been cleaned and covered with top-grade burn dressings. But that piercing pain still crept upwards through my bones. Father sat by the bed, his eyes red. Seeing me awake, he immediately stood up. “Iris, does it still hurt?” I shook my head. My phone screen lit up. It was a message from Garret Winters. I stared at the familiar name for a second. I reached out and tapped it open. Two voice messages popped up. I tapped the first one. Garret Winters’s impatient voice echoed in the room. “Amy Winters, where have you gone?” “Lyra’s appetite isn’t good tonight. She wants the dried scallop porridge from that old establishment in South City.” “Your injuries aren’t serious. Stop pretending to be dead in bed and go buy a serving and send it to room 802.” Father’s face darkened, his fists clenching. I expressionlessly opened the second message. “And.” “Wear a hood when you come. Cover that face of yours.” “You’re ghastly now. Don’t scare Lyra.” The voice messages finished playing. The room was silent. I looked at the screen, my eyes devoid of any ripple. Something in my chest was completely empty. I removed the SIM card from my phone. With both hands, I snapped the card in half and threw it into the trash can. I threw back the covers, propping myself up on the edge of the bed, trying to stand. Father pressed down on my shoulder. “You have severe full-body burns. The doctor said getting out of bed now could be life-threatening!” I looked up, meeting my father’s eyes. “Dad, I need to go downstairs.” “The jade pendant my mother left behind, I left it in room 802.” “That is the symbol of the Sterling Corporation’s matriarch.” “I must retrieve it myself.” Chairman Sterling stared at me for a long time. He released his grip. Turning, he took a black cashmere trench coat from the hanger and draped it over my shoulders. “Go.” “I’ll be right behind you.” I pulled the trench coat tighter, dragging my heavy legs, step by step, out of the exclusive ward. The elevator display at the end of the corridor flickered, stopping on the eighth floor. 2 The eighth-floor general ward area reeked of disinfectant mixed with cheap perfume. I walked to the door of room 802, which used to be mine. Laughter emanated from within. I raised my hand and pushed the door open. The bed sheets had been changed to pink silk, Lyra’s favorite color. Lyra, wearing a silk nightgown I had just bought but hadn’t had a chance to wear, leaned in Garret’s arms. He was peeling a grape, feeding it to her. Hearing the door open, both turned simultaneously. Seeing my face, wrapped in bandages and oozing blood, Lyra shrieked, startled, burrowing deeper into Garret’s embrace. “Garret, it’s terrifying! Why does she look so horrifying?” Garret abruptly stood up. The grape in his hand fell to the floor, crushed under his foot. Garret strode over, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Amy Winters, why are you running around? Don’t you know you’re ghastly right now?” “Didn’t I tell you to wear a hood? If you scare Lyra, can you afford the consequences?” I ignored him. My gaze swept past his shoulder, fixing on the jade pendant hanging around Lyra’s neck. Its edge was slightly blackened by the smoke from the fire. Engraved on it were my mother’s name and the Sterling family crest. I took a deep breath, my voice hoarse. “Give me back my property.” Lyra instinctively covered the jade pendant on her chest, her eyes instantly reddening, tears welling up. “Garret, this is the vintage necklace you gave me yesterday. I love it so much. Why is Amy trying to snatch my things?” Garret frowned, his eyes filled with disgust. He shoved my shoulder. “It’s just a broken piece of stone. It’s your honor that Lyra took a liking to it. I’ll transfer the money to you, just don’t make a scene!” Garret’s push was forceful. I was already weak, and with that shove, I stumbled backward, hitting the doorframe hard. The newly stitched wound split open. Blood gushed out, staining the hospital gown under my trench coat, dripping onto the floor from the hem. Drip. Drop. The hospital room filled with the scent of blood. Garret saw the bloodstains on the floor, showing no sympathy whatsoever. Instead, he covered his nose, recoiling a large step back in disgust. “How unlucky! She’s ruined the floor!” “Amy Winters, are you sick? Are you deliberately running to Lyra just to play the victim?” Lyra sat up from the bed. She tugged at Garret’s sleeve. “Garret, don’t blame Amy. She must be upset, being like this. Even if she used to serve us like a maid at home, it’s normal for her to have a bad temper now that she’s disfigured.” I leaned against the doorframe, cold sweat drenching the few remaining strands of hair on my forehead. I looked at Garret Winters. “That’s my mother’s relic. Hand it over.” Garret sneered. “You, an orphan who doesn’t even know who her parents are, where would you get relics from?” “I think your brain got burned, and you’re obsessed with money.” Garret stepped forward, grabbing my collar. “Apologize to Lyra immediately, then get out and clean up the blood on the floor!” Noises of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. 3 Several people entered from outside the door, all friends Garret usually associated with. The one in front even carried a fruit basket. Seeing me, covered in blood and leaning against the doorframe, they paused, then burst into laughter. “Well, Garret, old man, the wife’s look is quite unique, isn’t it? Halloween came early? With her face wrapped up like a mummy, aren’t you afraid of nightmares when the lights are off at night?” Garret released my collar, clapping his hands as if to shake off something dirty. “Don’t even mention it. Bad luck. I sent her to buy a bowl of porridge, but she had to come here and scare Lyra.” One of them walked to the bedside, putting down the fruit basket. He gave Lyra a fawning smile. “Sister Lyra, you’ve been startled. The wife is also clueless, she should stay in her room after disfiguring herself. What’s she doing wandering around?” Lyra lowered her head, looking utterly wronged. Lyra picked up a freshly brewed hot tea from the nightstand. “Amy, don’t be angry. Have some tea to warm yourself up.” Lyra’s foot suddenly tripped. The scalding hot tea, along with the tea leaves, splashed directly onto my bleeding shoulder and chest. I let out a cry of pain. Piercing agony instantly shot through me. The hot water scalded the freshly torn wound. I grunted, my legs giving out. I fell to one knee on the floor, cold sweat pouring from my body. Lyra shrieked, the empty cup in her hand falling to the floor and shattering. “I’m sorry, Amy, I didn’t mean it. You were staring at me earlier, I was so scared I couldn’t hold it steady…” Lyra cried, throwing herself into Garret’s arms. Garret embraced Lyra protectively, patting her back. He turned, his eyes dark and menacing, staring at me. Garret raised his foot, kicking the IV stand next to me. The metal stand toppled, striking my back. I was knocked to the floor. “Amy Winters, how dare you scare her! Are you trying to die?” I lay on the floor, my nails digging into the tiles. Blood and tea mixed, spreading across the floor. I looked up at the man I had once loved with my life. I watched him trample my dignity and my flesh underfoot for another woman. I coldly uttered two words: “Divorce.” The hospital room fell silent for a moment. Garret stared blankly, then chuckled in anger. “Divorce?” “Amy Winters, what do you have to divorce me with?” Garret pointed at me condescendingly. “You’re an orphan with no parents, no decent job. Without me, you can’t even afford the medical bills for these severe burns!” Someone next to him chimed in. “Exactly, Amy, old man. Garret is a CEO worth hundreds of millions now. If you leave him, with your ghastly face, no one would even give you a dime if you begged on the streets!” Garret walked up to me, his dress shoe stepping on the blood-stained hem of my coat. “Apologize to Lyra on your knees right now. Beg her forgiveness for scaring her. Otherwise, I’ll stop your medication immediately and leave you to rot in the streets!” Garret bent down, reaching for my hair. 4 I suppressed the agonizing, tearing pain in my back, supporting myself with my blood-soaked hands on the tiles, slowly standing up. I slapped away Garret Winters’s outstretched hand, a cold sneer on my lips. “Make me kneel? Can you even handle it?” I stared intently at the jade pendant on Lyra’s neck. “That pendant bears the name of the Sterling family’s matriarch.” “Doesn’t Lyra fear shortening her lifespan by wearing it?” Hearing the words “Sterling family,” the people in the room froze for a moment. Then, they burst into even louder laughter. One person bent over, laughing. “Sterling family? The corporation that controls the global economic lifeline?” “I can’t anymore! The wife’s brain is really fried!” “If you’re the Young Miss of the Sterling Corporation, then I’m the richest man in the world!” Lyra hid behind Garret, timidly speaking, “Garret, is Amy having a mental breakdown? Maybe we should send her to a mental institution. It’s too dangerous to leave her out here.” Garret lost his patience. His face livid, he strode up to me, grabbed the few remaining strands of unburned hair on my head, and forcefully pushed my head down. “Today, I’ll teach you what discipline means!” A loud crash. The solid wooden door of the hospital room was kicked to splinters from the outside. Wood chips flew. The people nearby shrieked in fear, covering their heads and crouching down. Two rows of bodyguards in black suits and Bluetooth earpieces surged in, instantly sealing off the entire room. The air in the room solidified at that moment. Lyra’s legs went weak with fear, collapsing onto the floor. Garret’s hand, clutching my hair, froze in mid-air. His face was ashen, his body trembling. Heavy, authoritative footsteps sounded from the corridor. One step. Two steps. Father, in a tailored suit, wore the crest pin of the family patriarch on his chest. He stepped over the shattered wood, striding into the room. An aura of immense power emanated from him. Father’s cold, stern gaze swept across the room, finally settling on Garret’s hand, still clutching my hair. Father spoke each word distinctly, his voice echoing through the room. “Who did you call a low-bred bastard?”

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When I had a miscarriage after a car accident, Liam Lennick was picking up his ex-girlfriend’s child. Seeing me bleeding profusely on the ground, he merely covered the little girl’s eyes, saying with utter disgust, “Lexi, don’t look. It’s absolutely filthy.” That night, a thunderstorm raged. His ex-girlfriend cried on the phone, and he didn’t hesitate to drive to her house. The next day, I signed the divorce papers and called my lawyer. “I’m certain about the divorce. Let’s proceed with the asset division.” 1 “Liam, I’m scared…” A woman’s faint sobs drifted from the balcony. Liam Lennick lit a cigarette, his handsome brows furrowed. Even with the storm raging outside, he preferred to stand on the cold, damp balcony, talking to another woman on the phone. “Just wait, don’t be afraid, I’ll be there soon.” He quickly hung up, stubbing out the cigarette. Coming in from the balcony, he saw me lying weakly in bed. He said coldly, “Audrey, stop faking it. The doctor said you only have a few scrapes, why are you pretending to be dead?” I lowered my eyes, my fingers curling weakly. Yes, my legs had scrapes. But the miscarriage, that was a child truly lost. I had only half-finished speaking on the phone when he impatiently cut me off. “Anyway, it’s fine as long as you’re okay. I’m still driving.” From the other end of the line, a girl’s cheerful voice could be heard asking, “Uncle Liam, is this mousse cake for Mom?” Before the man could answer, he hung up with a series of beeps. The words, “I had a miscarriage,” remained stuck in my throat, unspoken. Mousse cake, it must be very sweet. This morning, when I found the customized mousse cake on the table, I naively thought it was a gift from him to end our months-long cold war. But he just slapped my hand away. “Who told you to touch it? This is for a friend.” It wasn’t for me. It was for that “friend.” And who could that friend be, if not his divorced ex-girlfriend? When we first started dating, he knew I loved mousse cake. He would insist on buying from the most expensive shop in the city every day. After almost a month, I finally got tired of it and asked him to stop. He dotingly licked the cream from the corner of my mouth, pinching my cheek. “I have money to buy it, are you afraid of getting fat? I’ll love you even if you weigh 200 pounds.” Five years into our marriage, I rarely ate sweets, only to maintain my figure, so he wouldn’t change his mind. But if he didn’t love me anymore, would he care if I got fat? Now, let alone mousse cake, he would find it too much effort even to brew me a bowl of medicine. My thoughts returned to the present. Liam’s tone was still impatient. “Also, Lexi is just a child. You were bleeding so much. What if she saw it and got scared?” I endured the pain in my lower abdomen, a faint smile on my lips. “Yes, it’s a shame you’re not Lexi’s father, otherwise you’d probably want to kick me a couple more times.” Liam walked to my bedside. He forcefully swiped the bowl off my nightstand. The bowl shattered on the floor, spilling the medicine the doctor prescribed for my miscarriage. He suppressed his anger. “Audrey, don’t push your luck.” I continued to smile at him, saying coolly, “Mr. Lennick, aren’t you leaving?” Liam paused, surprised. “What?” “The thunder is so loud, your friend must be truly terrified.” The anger on Liam’s face flickered. Finally, he gave a sinister laugh. “Audrey, if you weren’t injured, I’d rip your mouth off.” I didn’t respond. But as he opened the door to leave, he coldly added, “Don’t wait up for me tonight. Just close the windows tightly when it thunders.” Yes, I used to be afraid of thunder too. Hiding in his arms would only lead to him pushing me away and calling me melodramatic. Yet, on this stormy night, Lisa Harris would receive his tender, whispered comfort. 2 The next day, when I arrived at the office, the atmosphere was strangely odd. As I went to get coffee, I overheard two young women whispering in the breakroom: “Mr. Lennick is too much. He berated and fired the assistant Ms. Lennick assigned, then brought someone else in.” “Yeah, Ms. Lennick’s protégé had excellent qualifications and capabilities. He was definitely better than that woman who can’t even use Excel.” “I heard that woman is divorced with a child, but she’s Mr. Lennick’s ex-girlfriend, so she didn’t even need an interview to start work.” “Ex-girlfriend? Even an ex-girlfriend shouldn’t be like that! Business is business, personal is personal. Ms. Lennick and Mr. Lennick have been married for five years, and she’s never been as shameless as that woman!” My hand, holding the cup, suddenly lost its grip. The cup clattered to the floor with a thud. It didn’t shatter, but the coffee spilled everywhere, filling the air with its bitter aroma. “Ms. Lennick!” The two interns finally noticed me, their faces sheepish. Their eyes, however, betrayed pity and sympathy for me. In that moment, I felt a faint ache in my abdomen again. I smiled softly, waving them off. “I’m fine. You two go back to work.” Back at my desk, I opened my alt account on social media. Lisa Harris had posted a side profile of a man, clearly looking serious at work. The caption read: “First day working with the big boss, made a small mistake but got spoiled by him! Thanks, big boss!” Liam Lennick replied below: “Work hard, and there’ll be a reward after work.” I casually ‘liked’ the post. Right after, Liam called. I answered. “Audrey, there’s a small issue with Mr. Miller’s client. Go handle it.” My tone was flat. “Isn’t Charles supposed to handle client relations? Did he mess up?” His voice on the other end was slightly annoyed. “Why so many questions? Charles was as dense as a brick, so I fired him. He dropped his work halfway and left, so aren’t you supposed to clean up his mess?” I scoffed. Whose mess was I cleaning up, exactly? More like cleaning up that woman’s mess. My heart felt heavy. I almost impulsively wanted to run into his office and confront him, but the thought of seeing that woman in his office filled me with irritation. I replied calmly. “Liam, I don’t feel well. I want to go home.” He paused. He probably hadn’t expected a strong woman like me, who would stay at her desk even with a fever or stomach ache, to say she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home. He let out a cold snort. “It’s just a minor car accident, a few scrapes. Still being melodramatic! Don’t you want that big contract from Mr. Miller?” I softly hummed. “No, I don’t. Money isn’t as important as my health.” “Audrey!” I hung up. At the same moment, Liam angrily kicked open his office door. I had already packed my bag and was ready to leave. Liam strode to my desk, questioning coldly, “Did I give you permission to leave?” “Mr. Lennick, I’m also a director. Why can’t I leave when I’m not feeling well?” Suddenly, numerous eyes focused on us. Liam felt his pride wounded. He pulled me into his office. From a corner, a woman’s surprised gasp. “Mr. Lennick, what’s wrong?” I looked at Lisa Harris, forcefully pulling my hand free from Liam’s grip. Liam’s voice softened. “Lisa, please step outside for a moment. I need to speak with Director Lennick.” Lisa’s eyes darted between us. She slowly walked to Liam’s side, clinging to his arm like a delicate bird. “Oh, Liam, don’t be angry! If Director Lennick has a work problem, we can solve it later! If she’s not feeling well, just let her go home and rest. The company won’t be without people if she’s gone…” Liam’s expression softened considerably at her sweet voice. Ignoring my presence, he playfully flicked Lisa’s nose. “You, you’re just too soft-hearted.” Then, turning to me, his face hardened again. “Since Assistant Harris is making excuses for you, then get out.” On the way home, I bought a mousse cake. Sitting in the car, I ate the cake bite by bite. The cake was indeed sweet, slowly neutralizing the bitterness in my heart. It turned out that the cake I bought for myself was just as sweet. But it was a truth I only understood now. 3 When I returned home, it was already late. Liam still wasn’t back. My mother, however, called. Her voice was as warm as ever. “Audrey, how are you and your husband doing these days?” I looked at the document in my hand, momentarily speechless. It was a divorce agreement. Her voice on the other end was still filled with warmth. “I wonder if you two will come visit us for the holidays this year. I’ve prepared so many of your favorite dishes!” “And also, when will you give me a grandson or granddaughter? Your father and I are so bored staying at home all day. How wonderful it would be to have a grandchild…” Suddenly, my nose stung. Neither a grandson nor a granddaughter. The child’s father would rather save another woman’s child than his own. It was that child’s misfortune not to come into this world. But perhaps it was for the best; if he came into this world, he would have to compete with other children for his father. Better not to come at all. “Mom, if I get a divorce, will you blame me?” Mom was silent for a long while. Finally, she asked cautiously, “Did you two argue? Spouses fight, but they always make up…” “No, there’s no turning back this time. Mom, will you blame me?” Mom sighed deeply. “I won’t blame you. All I want is for you to be happy. If you’re not happy, what’s the point of being married?” I laughed then. Tears streamed down my cheeks, wetting the dimples formed by my smile. “Okay.” I signed the divorce agreement and called my lawyer. “I’ve decided to divorce. Let’s proceed with property division.” As soon as I hung up, Liam called again. “Audrey, I’ve been drinking. I can’t drive. Come pick me up!” He bossed me around as if I were his personal assistant. Just bear with it a little longer, Audrey. From the other end of the line, there was another sickly sweet female voice. “Liam, it’s all your fault! Lexi hasn’t been picked up yet. She must be so scared…” Liam apologized to her, then said to me coldly, “Pick up Lexi on your way. It’s on your route anyway.” I softly said okay. At the school gate, I picked up Lisa Harris’s child. She sat in the passenger seat, expressionless, too mature for a child. “You’re Uncle Liam’s wife, aren’t you?” Lexi asked, feigning casualness. I smiled, counter-questioning, “Why, do you want to be Uncle Liam’s child?” The underlying meaning: Do you want Lisa Harris to be my husband’s wife? Lexi choked for a moment. I lightly tapped the steering wheel. “Kid, you’re not as smart as your mother. At least your mother is better at pretending to be dumb, and men just love to depend on their dumb women.” Lexi looked a bit embarrassed and raised her voice. “So what? Uncle Liam likes my mom!” I narrowed my eyes. “Kids are just naive. Liking someone doesn’t put food on the table.” I thought of the divorce agreement, where the property division was crystal clear. If we divorced, I wouldn’t lose out. On the contrary, Liam would lose both wealth and people. Lexi pouted, annoyed for the entire ride. I didn’t bother arguing with a child and had her wait in the lobby outside the private room. Just as I reached the door of the private room, I heard Lisa Harris’s sweet, soft voice. “Liam, you have a sensitive stomach, drink less…” Liam’s voice was deep and hoarse, a lazy, drunken chuckle. “What, you’re worried about me? Kiss me, and I’ll stop drinking.” Liam had Lisa sit on his lap. Seeing her shyness, he laughed and leaned in to kiss her lips. The two lingered for a long time before finally separating. I pushed the door open, startling both of them. Liam’s face was annoyed, but he didn’t push Lisa, who was still nestled against his chest, away. The private room was dimly lit. I placed the divorce agreement on the table in front of him. “A small company project. Just sign it.” Liam was somewhat drunk, his handsome brows tightly furrowed. He took the pen from my hand, signed it casually without even looking. “So annoying. Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow at the office for me to sign it?” As I was leaving, Lisa called out to me. “Thank you, Director Lennick, for picking up Lexi for me. Usually, Liam… Mr. Lennick helps with pickups and drop-offs, but today he had to discuss business, so I troubled you.” Her words sounded like a wife thanking her subordinate for helping with her child. Lisa knew I was Liam Lennick’s wife, yet she deliberately spoke with such subtle malice. But my heart was already calm. From this moment on, I was no longer Liam Lennick’s wife. I was free. “Ms. Harris, I hope you enjoy the trash someone else didn’t want.” I pretended not to see her ashen face and turned to leave.

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It was my birthday night, and my wife, who worked for a highly sensitive agency, wired me five thousand two hundred dollars. “Happy Birthday, darling. Got called in for an urgent overtime shift. Can’t celebrate with you tonight.” The moment I saw that message, I watched her and her adoptive brother, Kyle Jensen, walk arm-in-arm into the agency building. “This is the last time I’m indulging your whims.” I heard her say. “Next year, no matter what, I’m celebrating my husband’s birthday.” Kyle Jensen, her adoptive brother, laughed, holding up a box of ultra-thin condoms. “Our first time was in the company conference room, wasn’t it?” “So our last time should end in the same place.” I clenched the coffee cup in my hand, my knuckles white. Then, I sent an email to every employee except Kyle Jensen. “Urgent notice: Client requires early contract signing.” “Meeting in the company conference room in twenty minutes.” If they liked thrills so much, I’d give them a show they’d never forget. … “Hey, can you remotely activate the conference room camera from the backend?” “Of course, I want to record this historic moment.” “Good. Please connect it to my phone.” I hung up, my teeth gritted, and opened the app on my phone. The hot zone where Olivia Sterling and Kyle Jensen were getting intimate was the very center of the large conference table, directly beneath the camera. “Liv, what do you think your husband would do if he knew?” Kyle’s voice, smug and taunting, filled my ears. “That every birthday gift you gave him, I’ve tried on and stretched out beforehand?” “Would he be so humiliated he wouldn’t know where to hide?” Seeing the brand and style of the underwear Kyle was wearing—identical to the ones Olivia had given me for years—my stomach churned, and I nearly vomited bile. Olivia and I had been married for six years. Every year on my birthday, she’d be absent for one reason or another. I’d always assumed it was due to the sensitive nature of her job. But it never once crossed my mind that each time I blew out candles alone, wishing for us to grow old together, she was hiding on the conference table with Kyle, committing acts of betrayal against our marriage. The cold wind made me shiver uncontrollably. Then, a colleague’s voice from behind startled me. “Mr. Davies, the social media influencer you asked for has arrived.” “With this live broadcast, the public will be able to witness our successful strategic partnership with UnityCorp. This will undoubtedly be a huge boost for our company’s future development.” I smirked, taking the bottled water my assistant offered to rinse my mouth. “To ensure our employees aren’t uncomfortable, keep the cameras hidden.” “The live broadcast will officially begin in fifteen seconds. No matter what happens midway, it must not stop.” After making all the arrangements, I led the entire staff to wait for the company’s two major shareholders: Olivia’s father, Mr. Sterling Sr., Kyle’s adoptive father, and my mother. Seeing them arrive with the client, I personally pressed the elevator button for them. “Dad, Mom, Mr. McKinnon, please come this way.” The moment they stepped into the elevator, a dark blue suit jacket fell to the floor. Without a word, I picked it up and draped it over my arm. Approaching the conference room door, two red-soled dress shoes lay casually on the ground. A black silk stocking hung from the doorknob. As I frantically tidied the mess, my mother, Mr. Sterling Sr., and Mr. McKinnon all looked at me, their expressions questioning. My shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, and I was wearing disposable slippers. Mr. McKinnon, seeing this, looked awkward, mixed with a hint of resignation. “It seems working overtime on a Friday night is truly brutal.” “Liam, we old folks haven’t interrupted your… fun, have we?” Just then, employees who had taken the public elevator also arrived at the conference room door. I forced a smile and shook my head. With all my strength, I pushed open the conference room door. “The public caught-in-the-act drama is about to begin.” The next second, the door I had just managed to push open was shoved back from the inside. Olivia, disheveled, slipped out through the crack. Her flushed face was filled with shock and dismay. “Dad, Mom, isn’t—isn’t today Friday?” “W-why are you all here?” Seeing the black silk stockings in my hand, violently torn by Kyle, and the hundreds of employees behind me, Olivia shamelessly stepped forward and snuggled into my arms, feigning annoyance. “Liam, if you were having a meeting, why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” She tiptoed, bringing her lips close to my ear. “Everyone’s watching. Play along.” “It’s not what you think. I’ll explain everything later.” Seeing her almost frantic demeanor, I pushed her out of my embrace, discomfort clear on my face. “My apologies, everyone. Please excuse the sight.” “Dad, Mom, please escort Mr. McKinnon to the reception room to rest for a few minutes. I’ll have someone clean this up immediately. The meeting will start on time in five minutes.” Hearing this, Olivia visibly relaxed. The next second, she almost blurted out, accusing me, “Liam, when did you become so inconsiderate?” “How can we make Mr. McKinnon wait for us?” “Doesn’t the company have a smaller conference room? I think we should use that one for today.” As she spoke, she shot a glance at her father. Father and daughter played along with practiced ease. “Exactly, Liam, Olivia’s right. Let’s use the smaller one today.” He nodded obsequiously, shaking Mr. McKinnon’s hand firmly. “My apologies, Mr. McKinnon. The younger generation is clueless. Please excuse the spectacle.” Saying this, he tried to pull Mr. McKinnon towards the smaller conference room. He wanted to get everyone into the small conference room so Kyle, currently hiding in the large one, could escape? Dream on! “Dad, it’s understandable Olivia doesn’t know the situation since she doesn’t work here, but how can you blindly go along with her?” I frowned, gesturing to the hundreds of employees behind me. “The small conference room can only accommodate fifty people at most.” “We can’t have the remaining dozens of people standing in the hallway for the meeting, can we?” Then, I deliberately teased Olivia. “You, just look at you. I was just tired from working overtime and changed into comfortable clothes. As soon as I heard Mr. McKinnon and the others arrived, I didn’t have time to tidy up.” “But you? You didn’t even bother to put these clothes away, causing everyone to misunderstand.” I smiled, leaning closer to Mr. McKinnon, inviting him into the conference room. “Uncle McKinnon, let’s go in and start the meeting.” “Even though it’s temporary overtime today, I promised everyone five times the overtime pay. But if we delay any longer, it might damage my image as general manager in the eyes of the employees.” Just as everyone was about to turn and enter the large conference room where Kyle was hiding, Olivia again recklessly tried to stop them. She practically pleaded with me. “Liam, just listen to me this once. Let’s switch conference rooms, okay?” Seeing my face visibly darken, my mother, who was standing nearby, seemed to realize something. With a hint of irritation, she playfully chided Mr. Sterling Sr. “My dear, what’s so peculiar about this conference room? So much so that you two are repeatedly blocking everyone from entering?” Her expression unchanged, she pushed open the conference room door and strode in with purpose, her heels clicking. “The way you’re both hiding something, someone might think Olivia has a secret lover stashed away in there!” The words hadn’t even fully left her lips when a pair of glaring underwear caught everyone’s eye. My mother, without a second thought, slapped Olivia, knocking her to the ground. “You little hussy! How dare you betray our Liam?” She gritted her teeth, slapping the other side of Olivia’s face again. “Tell me, who’s that man you’re sneaking around with?” “From the moment we got into the elevator, I knew something was off. That jacket, and those shoes, they’re definitely not Liam’s style.” She kicked off her heels, ready to continue, but Mr. Sterling Sr. desperately held her back, trying to calm her. “My dear, don’t be impulsive.” Olivia, knowing she was in the wrong, scrambled awkwardly to her feet. She snatched the underwear from the chair and fumbled under the table for a pink tote bag. “Mom, you’ve misunderstood. This is a gift for Liam.” “I just accidentally knocked it off and didn’t have time to pick it up.” She looked at me expectantly. “If you don’t believe me, ask Liam.” “Darling, for six years of marriage, haven’t I given you one of these for your birthday every year?” Seeing Olivia shamelessly spout such nonsense, the last shred of my affection for her completely vanished. I suppressed my disgust, took her so-called gift, and, along with the clothes I’d picked up earlier, threw them all into the trash can. “Mom, don’t be angry. Olivia’s right.” After arranging for everyone to sit down as planned, I meticulously scanned the entire conference room, searching for Kyle’s hiding place. Kyle would be completely naked right now. Looking around the entire conference room, the only place to hide a person was under the table. But I had already secretly checked when Olivia knelt to retrieve the tote bag. Aside from the bottom of the table, the last place where someone could conceivably hide was behind the printer, in the utility box at its base. To confirm my suspicion, I feigned an accidental approach to the printer. The next second, cold sweat beaded on Olivia’s forehead. She tightly clamped her arms around my waist. “Liam, I sent you a five thousand two hundred dollar transfer. Did you get it?” “What transfer?” I feigned ignorance, about to pull out my phone, but she quickly cut me off. “It’s fine if you haven’t seen it. Let’s celebrate your birthday after the meeting.” “Don’t you want to go to the Sky Garden restaurant to watch the fireworks? I’ll go with you as soon as this meeting is over.” I suppressed my disgust, forcing a smile. “Okay.” Once I was certain Kyle was hiding in the printer’s utility box, I motioned for my assistant to stop working. “Mr. McKinnon, I apologize. There’s an error in the project proposal. It’s a mistake made by our subordinates, and we will deal with it severely.” “Please give me ten minutes. I’ll have someone print it again here on-site.” The words hadn’t fully left my mouth when Mr. Sterling Sr. and Olivia, who was listening in, simultaneously blurted out, “No!” No? I doubt you have a choice. If I wasn’t mistaken, Mr. Sterling Sr. had already recognized Kyle’s suit jacket in the elevator. And the silk stockings and shoes at the conference room door only confirmed his suspicions. The only reason they remained so composed was their certainty that I would prioritize the reputation of both the company and the Sterling-Davies families. But what they didn’t know was that while I usually appeared mild-mannered and unassuming, once someone crossed my bottom line, I would be meticulous and retaliate fiercely. I meaningfully glanced at my mother. She immediately understood, publicly stating, “Mr. McKinnon, don’t worry. We guarantee a correct and accurate project proposal within ten minutes.” The Sterling father and daughter wanted to say something, but my assistant was already rushing people towards the printer where Kyle was hiding. “Wait!” At the same time, the Sterling father and daughter again simultaneously tried to stop them. Mr. Sterling Sr.’s face was ashen, and he sternly questioned the assistant. “Is this the only printer in the entire company?” “Why aren’t you taking people to print elsewhere?” “If you disturb Mr. McKinnon, who can bear the responsibility?” He then offered a ingratiating smile, handing a cup of tea to Mr. McKinnon. “My subordinates are clueless. Mr. McKinnon, please don’t take offense.” The assistant’s raised hand froze in mid-air. She looked at me hesitantly, while my mother, with a knowing smile, teased Mr. Sterling Sr. “Old man Sterling, why are you so agitated?” Seeing this, I added fuel to the fire. “Exactly, Dad, Olivia, why are you both so unusual today?” “Could it be that Olivia really has something she’s hiding from me?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. I deliberately faced the influencer’s pinhole camera, elaborating, “Could it be, as Dad just said, that you’re hiding a secret lover in the conference room?” I shook my head, turning a few circles in place. “Mom, you’re really fantasizing.” “The layout of this conference room is completely open. Where could anyone possibly hide?” I stared pointedly at the utility box behind the printer, every word deliberate. “Could it be that he’s hiding inside the printer?” At these words, Mr. Sterling Sr.’s face turned green. Olivia, still stubbornly denying, swore to me, “Darling, heaven is my witness, I haven’t betrayed you.” “You, you’re just not serious when you joke.” “Even though Uncle McKinnon watched us grow up, he’s the client today. You’re being too inconsiderate.” Even at this point, Olivia still dared to put on a brave face?

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“I had a vasectomy three years ago. That ‘seed’ in your belly? Must be borrowed, wouldn’t you say?” At the research findings presentation, my professor husband publicly waved a surgical certificate, each word a dagger to my heart. The room gasped, and countless cameras, filled with scorn, focused on my face. And my husband, who had tenderly stroked my belly just last night, was now thoughtfully draping his jacket over a fragile junior colleague, a former student. I finally understood. He wanted to preserve his pristine reputation, to openly care for his “ailing” first love, and to do that, he had to utterly destroy me, his wife. “James Thorne, remember your words today. From this moment on, this child’s life and death have nothing to do with you.” I publicly tore up our marriage certificate, grabbed my suitcase, and vanished into the rainy night. Six years later, a prodigy hacker, my son, crashed his company’s system. He coolly rejected James’s high-paying job offer. James, eyes red, tried to force a reunion. The boy scoffed, a mocking tone in his voice: “Sir, your vasectomy certificate was publicly notarized across the entire internet back then. Are you trying to admit that you were lying all along?” … 1 “Professor Thorne, the system is back online, but the hacker left a message.” The assistant wiped cold sweat from his brow, not daring to look at the man at the head of the conference table. James Thorne stared at the massive red ‘X’ on the screen, his face ashen. Six years ago, he was a brilliant rising star in academia. Six years later, he was the powerful head of a top tech company. But just moments ago, the company’s core defense system was breached in three seconds by an anonymous hacker. A line of arrogant small text flashed on the screen: “Do people who get vasectomies also suffer brain atrophy?” James abruptly stood up, his fingertips trembling with rage. This secret, besides those present at that fateful presentation, no one knew. “Investigate! Find me this person’s IP address!” he roared, his tie askew. Just then, the conference room door opened. Chloe Sterling, in a simple white dress, stood weakly, leaning on the doorframe. “James, don’t be angry. Be careful with your health.” The fury in James’s eyes instantly melted into tenderness. He quickly went to her, supporting her. “Chloe? What are you doing here? I told you to rest at the hospital.” Chloe coughed faintly twice, tears welling in her eyes. “I heard something happened at the company. I was worried about you.” James thoughtfully draped his jacket over her shoulders, the gesture chillingly practiced. This scene perfectly mirrored six years ago. That’s how he’d been then, publicly waving a vasectomy certificate, accusing the child in my womb of being a “borrowed seed.” Then, in front of everyone, he’d walked towards this “ailing” junior colleague. “Mr. Thorne, we found it.” The assistant’s voice broke the tender moment. “The person is at the Cloud’s Edge Café in the city center. They didn’t hide their address.” James sneered, his eyes dark and menacing. “How audacious. Take the team over there.” I hadn’t expected our first meeting since returning to the country to come so quickly. In the café, I was slowly sipping my latte. Caleb, across from me, his slender fingers danced rapidly across a tablet. He had a face strikingly similar to James’s, especially those cold, almond-shaped eyes. “Mom, the fish took the bait.” Caleb closed the tablet, a hint of mockery playing on his lips. The café door was violently pushed open. James, accompanied by bodyguards, stormed in, his presence menacing. The moment he saw me, he froze, as if someone had pressed the pause button. “Sophia?” His voice was hoarse, filled with incredulous shock. I set down my cup, looking up at him with a slight smile. “Professor Thorne, long time no see.” His gaze lingered on my face for a long time, finally settling on Caleb. Caleb’s face was practically a miniature version of James’s. James’s expression instantly became a kaleidoscope of emotions: shock, anger, absurdity, finally settling into deep disgust. “Sophia, you actually dared to come back?” He strode to the table, staring down at me. “Is this bastard the evidence of your betrayal back then?” Caleb stood up. Though his height only reached James’s waist, his aura was no less formidable. “Sir, misidentifying relatives is a sickness that needs curing.” James scoffed, laughing angrily, pointing at Caleb as he addressed me. “Is this the kind of child you raised? Just like that adulterer, completely ill-mannered.” I stood up, shielding Caleb behind me. “Mr. Thorne, please show some respect.” “I am the Chief Technology Officer of DeepBlue Tech. I’m here today to decline your job offer.” James froze. He had indeed been offering a hefty sum to a top hacker codenamed “S” recently. But he never expected that hacker to be me. Or rather, the child behind me. 2 “You’re S?” James’s eyes were full of doubt. In his mind, I would always be the housewife who hid behind him, managing his household. I didn’t speak, but Caleb sneered. “I am.” The little guy pulled out a specially designed ID badge from his backpack and slammed it onto the table. James’s pupils constricted violently. The assistant behind him gasped, whispering, “Mr. Thorne, the tech department confirmed that the hacker is indeed a child…” James’s face went from green to white, then from white to red. This feeling of being humiliated by his own son (though he wouldn’t admit it) clearly stuck in his craw. “Sophia, to get back at me, you actually taught your child to be this kind of sneaky scoundrel?” He glared at me, gritting his teeth. “Crashing the company system—was that just to get my attention?” His narcissism made me laugh. “Mr. Thorne, you’re thinking too much.” “Crashing your system was just because your job posting smelled so bad it offended my son’s eyes.” Chloe then walked up, delicate and frail, pulling on James’s sleeve. “James, don’t be like this. Sophia must be desperate, given her circumstances.” She turned to me, a flicker of jealousy in her eyes, but her face was filled with sympathy. “Sophia, if you need money, you can tell us.” “After all, you left so abruptly back then, without even settling the marital assets. James has always felt he owed you.” Her words were expertly crafted. In a few sentences, she cemented my “cheating and fleeing” crime from back then, and subtly asserted her current status as the lady of the house. James snorted, looking at me with even greater disdain. “Owed? A loose woman like her deserves to talk about being owed?” Caleb suddenly spoke, his tone cool and clear. “Auntie, your acting is paler than your complexion.” Chloe’s expression froze. Caleb continued to twist the knife. “And Mr. Thorne, your vasectomy certificate was publicly notarized across the entire internet back then.” “Since you are infertile, how could this child possibly be yours?” “Since he’s not yours, how can there be any talk of betrayal?” “Are you trying to admit publicly that your certificate from back then was falsified?” The coffee drinkers around us turned their heads, hushed whispers erupting. James’s face instantly turned as black as soot. This logical loop left him unable to refute. Admit the child was his, and he would be a liar who defrauded and tricked me into marriage. Deny the child was his, and he would have to watch his biological son call someone else Daddy. “Sophia, what exactly do you want?” He lowered his voice, a hint of threat in his tone. I picked up my bag, taking Caleb’s hand. “Nothing, just for you to stay away from us.” “After all, a ‘dead man’ doesn’t need a son.” I walked out of the coffee shop with Caleb. The sunlight warmed my skin, but I felt no comfort. On that rainy night six years ago, I walked the streets with my suitcase. Back then, I swore I would make him pay. Now, the game had just begun. Back at the hotel, Caleb deftly opened his laptop. “Mom, Chloe’s medical records are fake.” He pointed to a series of fluctuating data on the screen. “She doesn’t have heart disease at all. All those medical reports came from a private hospital under James’s name.” I looked at the data, a cold smile in my heart. Just as I suspected. Back then, to protect Chloe, James didn’t hesitate to accuse me of attempted murder. He claimed Chloe had developed congenital heart disease because I pushed her down the stairs. Now it seemed it was nothing more than a play they had orchestrated together. A play to ruin my reputation so they could live happily ever after. “Keep digging. I want to know who issued that surgical certificate back then.” I stroked Caleb’s head. “Okay, Mom.” Caleb’s eyes held a maturity beyond his years. Just then, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. After I answered, James’s angry voice came through. “Sophia, bring the child. Go to City Central Hospital for a paternity test.” “Now, immediately!” 3 “Mr. Thorne, have you forgotten?” I held my phone, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the city lights. “You are ‘vasectomized.’ Taking a paternity test would be like slapping yourself in the face, wouldn’t it?” Heavy breathing came from the other end of the line. James was clearly furious. “Stop the nonsense! That child looks exactly like me. Do you think I’m blind?” I let out a soft laugh, my voice as cold as ice. “Many people look alike. If Mr. Thorne wants to be a father, he can adopt a child from an orphanage.” “My child’s last name is Hayes.” After that, I hung up the phone and blocked his number. The next morning, I received an invitation to an industry summit. As the CTO of DeepBlue Tech, I had to attend. And James, as a local tech magnate, would naturally be there. The summit was packed with luminaries. I put on a sharp black suit, my hair pulled back, radiating confidence. Caleb, acting as my “special assistant,” wore a miniature suit and walked beside me. The moment we appeared, we became the center of attention. “Is that S from DeepBlue Tech? She’s so young and beautiful!” “That child next to her, why does he look so familiar?” Whispers erupted all around. James walked over with Chloe. Chloe was wearing a pink gown today, making her appear even more fragile. When she saw me, a hint of malice flickered in her eyes. “Sophia, is it really appropriate to bring a child to an event like this?” Her voice wasn’t loud, but just enough for everyone nearby to hear. “After all, this is a high-level academic exchange. If the child gets noisy, it would be an embarrassment to DeepBlue Tech.” The atmosphere instantly grew subtle. Before I could speak, Caleb interjected. “Auntie, if you can understand this paper on quantum encryption in my hand, I’ll leave immediately.” He pulled a paper from his folder and handed it to Chloe. Chloe glanced at it, her face instantly turning a spectrum of colors. The dense equations on it were like an alien language to an art student like her, who had risen through connections. Laughter rippled through the crowd. James’s face was ashen. He snatched the paper. He had intended to rescue Chloe, but when he saw the content, he froze. It was the core algorithm he had been researching for six months without a breakthrough. And a six-year-old child had just casually written it out? “This… you wrote this?” James stared intently at Caleb. Caleb shrugged, his tone nonchalant. “I was bored last night, just doodled it.” James’s breathing quickened, a flicker of fanaticism in his eyes. He was a man who valued academia above all else, and a shrewd businessman. His gaze at Caleb was no longer disgust, but as if looking at a priceless treasure. “Sophia, we need to talk.” He looked at me, his tone holding an undeniable command. I raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Thorne, there’s nothing to talk about between us.” “Regarding the child, I believe I have a right to know the truth.” He lowered his posture, even with a hint of pleading. I scoffed inwardly. Truth? The truth back then was that you personally pushed me into the abyss. “You want the truth? Fine.” I leaned close to his ear, speaking in a voice only we could hear. “Tomorrow at 3 PM, go to the hospital where you supposedly had your vasectomy.” “I’ll personally deliver the ‘truth’ to you.” James froze. Chloe, sensing something was amiss, quickly grabbed his arm. “James, don’t listen to her nonsense. She’s definitely trying to trick you.” But James pushed her hand away. In his eyes, for the first time, he showed suspicion towards Chloe.

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At my grandmother’s eightieth birthday banquet, my hands trembled from a severe somatic depression flare-up, and I knocked over a teacup. My own mother slapped me across the face, her eyes filled with disgust. “You ill-mannered brat, how dare you bring bad luck on a day like this?” The room full of relatives snickered, watching the spectacle. My aunt, my father’s sister, remarked sarcastically, “Honey, don’t be mad. She’s mentally ill, you know. Clumsy hands are normal.” I felt icy all over, trembling as I fumbled in my purse for my diagnosis paper, trying to explain. But my father snatched it, tearing it to shreds, then grabbed my hair and dragged me towards the balcony. “Are you addicted to faking illness? Go to the balcony and reflect. You’re not allowed back in until you can smile!” The biting wind howled. The seventeenth-floor balcony had no enclosed windows. I watched the joyous sounds of clinking glasses from inside, saw them take a heartwarming family photo that conspicuously left me out. This time, I really smiled. I swung myself over the railing. Before my body completely lost its balance, I dialed 911. “Officer, I’ve committed a murder. I’ve killed myself. The culprits are right here in the room.” My phone plummeted with my body. With a sickening thud, my head burst open on the concrete below. The banquet’s merriment ceased. … 1 At Grandma Eleanor’s eightieth birthday banquet, the private room was stiflingly hot from the heating. I huddled in a corner, my heart clutched tight, each beat a sharp stab of pain. It was a somatic symptom of my severe depression. I wanted to throw up, to run away, to find a place where I could cry my heart out alone. “Alice, are you just going to stand there like a statue? Go raise a toast to your Uncle Robert!” My mother’s sharp voice cut through the air. Her eyes pierced me with a look of utter disappointment. I swallowed hard, suppressing the nausea, and shakily picked up a glass. “Well, look at those hands shaking like she has Parkinson’s. Alice, are you still half-asleep?” My Aunt Carol, Robert’s wife, quipped, cracking a pecan, her eyes full of mockery. The surrounding relatives roared with laughter. “College kids, so delicate.” “I think she’s just spoiled. Probably had it easy at home.” I clenched my jaw, trying to control my trembling hands, but my body refused to obey. “Smash!” A crisp sound. The glass slipped from my grasp, shattering on the floor, wine splashing onto Uncle Robert’s pant leg. The room fell silent. All eyes converged on me. “Alice!” My father, David, slammed his hand on the table and rose to his feet. He strode towards me, raised his hand, and slapped me hard across the face. “Crack!” My cheek burned, my ears rang. I staggered back a few steps, bumping into a chair behind me. “You good-for-nothing! You can’t even manage a simple toast. What can you do?” I clutched my face, tears welling in my eyes, but I dared not let them fall. Because they had told me that crying was bad luck, crying was an embarrassment to the family. “I… I’m sorry…” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper, head bowed. “What’s the good of ‘sorry’? Look at your dismal face. Today is Grandma’s big day; are you deliberately trying to upset her?” My mother, Eleanor, rushed over, pointing her finger at my nose and scolding me mercilessly. “How could I have given birth to such a burden? Look at your cousin, Clara, so well-behaved and thoughtful. And look at you, always wearing that gloomy face. Who are you putting on a show for?” Clara was my cousin, Uncle Robert’s daughter. At that moment, she was nestled beside Grandma Eleanor, smiling brightly, clutching a crisp dollar bill from a freshly received gift. Hearing my mother’s words, she raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise as she looked at me. “Oh, Aunt Eleanor, don’t blame Alice too much. Maybe she’s just not feeling well. After all, Alice usually doesn’t talk much. It’s normal for her to be a bit withdrawn.” “Withdrawn? I say she’s just being dramatic!” Aunt Carol interjected, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “These kids nowadays, always claiming to be depressed. Really, they’re just lazy, just trying to shirk responsibility.” My heart felt as if something had violently stabbed it, bleeding profusely. My trembling hand reached into my purse and found the crumpled diagnosis paper. It was the result of a secret check-up I’d had last week. Severe depression, accompanied by severe anxiety, with an urgent recommendation for inpatient treatment. I wanted to tell them, I wasn’t being dramatic, I wasn’t lazy, I was truly sick. I pulled out the paper. “Dad, Mom, I’m not faking it. I really am…” “Rip—” Before I could finish, my father snatched the diagnosis paper, not even glancing at it, and tore it to shreds. “Don’t try to fool me with this garbage! Last time it was a stomachache, this time it’s depression. Next time, will it be cancer?” My father violently threw the paper shreds at my face. “Alice Hayes, I’m telling you, today you will be happy! If you dare to ruin your grandmother’s mood, I’ll break your legs!” My vision blurred. The paper shreds landed on my hair, on my shoulders, like a death sentence pronounced on my life. It turned out that, in their eyes, my life was less important than their public image. “To the balcony! You’re not coming back in until you can smile!” My father grabbed my collar, dragging me towards the balcony like a dead dog. 2 The balcony door slammed shut, locked. The biting wind howled, rushing into my collar, stripping away the last of my body heat. This was the seventeenth floor. The hotel balcony was semi-open, with only a railing less than three feet high. I leaned over the railing, looking at the traffic below. Inside, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter drifted through the glass door. “Come on, let’s keep drinking, don’t mind that crazy girl.” “Exactly, these kids just need discipline. A couple of missed meals will fix her.” “Clara, darling, sing a song for Grandma. Grandma loves your singing most.” They laughed so happily. It was as if the person who had just been humiliated and scolded by them didn’t even exist. The glass door reflected their joyous figures. My father, all smiles, toasted my uncle. My mother was holding Clara’s hand, complimenting her beautiful dress. What a perfect family photo. If you didn’t count me. My heart stopped its frantic pounding, slowly calming. That calm was like the surface of the ocean before a storm, unfathomably deep. I pulled out my phone. On the screen was a photo of me with my parents. It was taken five years ago when I got into a prestigious high school. Back then, they smiled with such pride, loving me so much. When did it start to change? Was it when my grades slipped? Or when I became quiet and withdrawn? Or perhaps, when they started to see me as a burden? I opened my contacts, my finger hovering over “Dad” for a long time, but ultimately sliding past it. There was no need. No one would answer, and if they did, it would just be another torrent of abuse. I dialed the number I’d only ever seen on TV. 911. “Hello, this is 911 emergency. How can I help you?” I looked down at the hard concrete pavement below, a stiff smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Officer, I need to report a crime.” The person on the other end clearly paused, their voice becoming urgent. “Please calm down! Can you tell me what happened? What is your exact location?” “Seventeenth floor of the Imperial Hotel, in the Magnolia Ballroom.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve committed a murder.” The operator on the other end was visibly taken aback, their tone growing more urgent. “Ma’am, please calm down! Who is the victim? What’s the situation at the scene?” “The victim is myself.” I looked through the glass door at my mother, who was cutting the cake for Grandma. She looked so beautiful when she smiled, much more beautiful than when she smiled at me. “The culprits are inside the room. They’re eating cake, celebrating their glamorous lives.” “Hello? Hello! Ma’am, please don’t do anything rash! Whatever you’re going through, it can be resolved! Please listen to me…” The police officer’s anxious shouts sounded so faint in the cold wind. I hung up the phone. I took one last look at this world. The gloomy sky, so oppressive it stole your breath. Just like my past twenty years. “Alice! Are you dead out there?! If you’re going to jump, just jump! Don’t stand there trying to scare people!” Through the glass door, my father saw me standing by the railing, pointing and yelling. His face was flushed with drink, his eyes full of contempt. My mother also looked over, frowning, mouthing for me to come inside. I smiled. This time, it was a genuine smile. “Dad, Mom, as you wish, I’ll never embarrass you again.” I swung myself over the railing. In the moment my body lost balance, I felt no fear. Instead, there was an unprecedented sense of liberation. The wind roared in my ears. From the seventeenth floor, the fall would only take a few seconds. “Thud!” Excruciating pain, followed by endless darkness. The world, finally, was quiet. 3 I thought I would simply vanish. But I didn’t. I floated in mid-air, looking at my own body, shattered on the ground. Blood spread across the pale concrete like blooming scarlet lilies, a horrific sight. The Alice who had worked so hard for praise but never received it, the Alice who had lived so cautiously, walking on eggshells, was finally dead. A crowd quickly gathered downstairs. Screams and gasps erupted one after another. “Someone jumped!” “Oh my God, it’s a young girl!” “Call an ambulance! Call the police!” I watched silently, my heart devoid of any ripple. Upstairs, in the ballroom, the festivities continued. The soundproofing was truly excellent. So good that even the sound of a human life ending was completely shut out. Until the hotel manager frantically burst into the Magnolia Ballroom, his face ashen, shouting. “It’s terrible! That young lady… she jumped!” In that instant, the air in the ballroom froze. Aunt Carol’s pecan fell from her mouth. Grandma Eleanor’s birthday cake rolled to the side. My mother’s hand, which had been cutting the cake, jolted, the sharp knife slicing her finger. “What did you say?” My father paused for a few seconds, then sneered. “Jumped? That useless girl has the guts for that? She’s probably just hiding somewhere trying to scare people! Manager, don’t let her fool you, she’s a master actress!” The manager was sweating profusely, pointing frantically out the window. “It’s true! She’s right below! Her brains… her brains are splattered out!” “I don’t believe it!” My father shoved the manager aside and rushed towards the balcony. He leaned over the railing to look down. With just one glance, his body seemed to deflate, collapsing to the floor. “How… how could it be…” My mother also rushed over. When she saw that blinding red puddle below, she let out a gut-wrenching scream. “Ah!!!” She hammered frantically on the glass door, trying to rush downstairs, but Uncle Robert and Aunt Carol held her back tightly. “Don’t look! Don’t look! Calm down, Eleanor!” “Let go of me! That’s Alice! That’s my Alice!” My mother cried hysterically, her makeup completely smeared, looking utterly disheveled. Just minutes before, she had been pointing her finger at me, calling me a burden. Now I was dead, the debt cleared, so why was she still crying? Such hypocrisy. “I told you that girl had problems!” Aunt Carol patted her chest, a look of profound relief on her face. “Today is Mom’s birthday, and she had to choose this time to die. Isn’t that just asking for bad luck? What a jinx, can’t even rest in peace after death!” Clara huddled in Grandma Eleanor’s arms, covering her eyes, afraid to look. “Grandma, I’m scared…” Grandma Eleanor’s face was ashen. She slammed her rosary beads onto the floor. “What a sin! How could our respectable Hayes family produce such a disloyal wretch!” You see? Even in death, in their eyes, I was still a disloyal wretch, a jinx. No one asked why I jumped. No one cared if I was in pain. They only cared that my death had ruined their mood and disgraced them. The police arrived swiftly. The piercing wail of sirens cut through the city air, and through the last shred of dignity for the Hayes family.

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I’m a drama queen. In the middle of the night, I absolutely had to have strawberries. I forced my boyfriend, who was running a high fever, to brave a storm to buy them for me. Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. I opened the door, about to ask for the strawberries. Then I saw the pop-up comments. “Strawberries? Dude got hit by a car on the way. The guy at your door is a real ghost.” “This evil female lead is really going to kill herself. When does she finally die?” “Don’t worry, soon, soon. In three days, the anomalies descend, and the male lead becomes the King of Anomalies. He’ll go after the evil female lead first.” I trembled like a leaf. I grabbed a towel from the table and draped it over my boyfriend’s head. Softly, I said, “You’re drenched! It breaks my heart to see you like this.” 1 Under the dim yellow light, Liam’s face was as pale as paper. His hair was soaking wet, drops of water dripping from the strands onto the floor. The towel in my hand was soaked with rainwater, and his palm felt icy. The comments section exploded: “Wait, isn’t the next scene supposed to be the female lead, furious about not getting her strawberries, slapping the male lead across the face?” “Why is Sarah suddenly having a conscience?” “Probably realized she’s about to die. Trying to make amends, a last-ditch effort.” … Those dense, scrolling comments sent shivers down my spine. Yes, I was Sarah, the “evil female lead” they were talking about. Outside, it was pitch black, as if the darkness itself was trying to swallow everything. This wasn’t normal. Combined with the comments about anomalies descending in three days, it seemed this was really happening. 2 I carefully used the towel to dry Liam’s rain-soaked hair. He remained utterly still, unreactive, letting me do as I pleased. Just as I wondered why, a comment popped up, explaining: “Male lead’s first day as an anomaly, consciousness not back yet. Just acting on instinct.” “Sarah only has three days to run wild. Once Liam’s consciousness and memories return in three days, good luck to her.” I shivered in fear. My wrist was suddenly grabbed. Liam’s hand was icy, and his voice was cold. He said, “I couldn’t get the strawberries.” The moment he said that, I was filled with regret. Idiot! Why did you ask for strawberries?! Now his life is gone! Before I could speak, Liam had already gathered his bedding. “I’ll sleep on the living room couch.” This was my usual punishment for Liam. Any slight deviation from my wishes, and he’d either be on his knees or subjected to my yelling and hitting. The couch was a standard punishment. Sarah, Sarah, I cursed inwardly, you really are a monster! My heart softened, but then I remembered Liam was now… not human. It was probably better to keep my distance. Thinking this, I yawned and went to bed. When I opened my eyes, those persistent comments were still there. I didn’t expect them to invade my mind even when I closed my eyes. The comments section was buzzing, all about how tragic my fate would be. They showed absolutely no consideration for me, the person experiencing it. Comments: “This female lead gets it rough later. When the anomalies descend, she’s repeatedly attacked by the anomalies Liam sends. She barely clings to life, only to encounter the black-hearted Liam. She thinks he’s still in love, slaps him, and he just chops off her hand.” What the hell?! My eyes, which had been closed, snapped open. I quickly touched my perfectly intact hand. Comments: “Wait, why did Sarah suddenly open her eyes? Scared me.” I’m the one who’s scared stiff! Isn’t my fate supposed to be miserable? Although I was a bit of a beast before, I didn’t deserve that, did I? But thinking back to my time with Liam, I had never shown him a kind face, always yelling or hitting him. Before, perhaps because I hadn’t “awakened” and was just a paper doll following a predetermined plot, I hadn’t felt anything. But now that I was aware, recalling my actions… Yes, I was a terrible person. But did I deserve such a tragic death? Thinking of this, tears streamed down my face. Question: How do I reverse my tragic ending in just three days? The comments were still buzzing with activity. “Don’t even get me started on how satisfying it gets later. And Liam doesn’t kill her immediately. Instead, he locks her up and tortures her daily. It takes almost a month for Sarah to finally die.” “OMG, the male lead is so ruthless! Doesn’t he have any humanity left?” “Ruthless? He’s an anomaly now, of course he’s lost most of his humanity.” “You’re right. It’s all Sarah’s fault. She’s getting what she deserves.” The more I read, the more terrified and shaky I became. The more I read, the colder the room felt. Finally, I abruptly sat up in bed. These cursed comments were chilling me to the bone. No, I couldn’t sleep alone; it was too terrifying. 3 So I quietly slipped out of bed. I pushed the door open just a crack. It was dark outside; Liam must have been fast asleep. I tiptoed to the sofa. Using the faint light from my phone, I illuminated Liam’s face. He lay peacefully, like a corpse. Well, he was one. Okay, sleeping next to a corpse right now wasn’t the smartest idea. But I really didn’t want to fall asleep alone, trembling with fear. So I quietly lifted a corner of the blanket and slipped in. Thankfully, the sofa I bought was large enough. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have fit two people. I turned over, coming face to face with a pair of dark eyes. The surprise made me lose my balance, almost falling off. Thankfully, Liam caught me by the waist. His voice was devoid of emotion. “Why are you sleeping out here?” I didn’t know how to explain, so I just buried my face in his chest. “I missed you.” The comments exploded: “Wait, why are they suddenly getting intimate?” “Upstairs, they’re a couple. This is normal.” “Not normal at all! Zero people want to see their love story.” I was buried in the crook of Liam’s neck, barely daring to breathe. After all, the current Liam was no longer the same. There was no trace of a living person about him. 4 The comments started chatting again: “Honestly, this female lead is such a stereotype. Facing a boyfriend with an eight-pack and top-tier looks, she just keeps her heart locked up, treating him like a spinning top all day. So abstract, she practically has ‘I’m the evil female lead’ written on her face.” “Agreed with the above. I was so confused when I watched. They clearly had no real conflict, and the male lead never did anything overboard, but she just acted like a lunatic, finding ways to torment him all day.” “That’s normal. The author got lazy, just wanted a character to boost the male lead’s dark evolution. The interaction between the male and female leads later will definitely be shippable, looking forward to it!” These comments actually reminded me. That’s right, what was it about Liam that I used to dislike so much? His face? Liam’s face was top-tier. If he hadn’t been with me, he probably could have found a rich older woman and never worried about money again. His body? His body was also top-notch: an eight-pack, smooth and refined skin. Thinking about it like that… Oh my God! I’ve been set up! The old me was practically blind! Having such beauty and not indulging, just focusing on acting like a drama queen—this plot was truly harmful! As I thought this, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The sofa, though not small, was still a bit cramped for two people. As I relaxed slightly, I felt myself starting to drift downwards. Liam’s hand was resting on my waist, occasionally pulling me closer. His fingers were terrifyingly cold, even waking me from my drowsy state. I instinctively frowned. “Take your hand away, your hand is so cold…” But then I suddenly remembered my tragic fate. I quickly grabbed his hand instead. “Why is your hand so cold?” Liam moved a little closer, our breaths mingling. “I don’t know.” Perhaps it was lust emboldening me. I, possessed, placed his hand on my chest, then pressed it against my neck. “I’ll warm you up, and it won’t be cold anymore,” I said. The veins in my slender neck pulsed with heat and strength. His cold, large hand trembled slightly. Liam froze. His dark eyes watched me unblinkingly, as if trying to swallow me whole. The comments section nearly erupted into a brawl. “What the hell? Why did they suddenly get all lovey-dovey?” “Gotta say, it’s kinda shippable.” “Upstairs must be starving for content, shipping anything? Are you a Stockholm Syndrome victim?” “Seriously, look what the male lead went through. Just let the female lead die already, okay?” “But I actually feel like the male lead is kinda enjoying it right now…” 5 I slept soundly through the night. Early in the morning, before I was even fully awake, I smelled the aroma of food. I twitched my nose, then rolled over and fell off the sofa. Liam had woken up early and, driven by instinct, had prepared a table full of food. All my favorites. I was delighted. I picked up my fork and tasted a bit of the roasted chicken. Enjoying it, I praised him, “Today’s meal is so rich and delicious!” Comments: “Of course! It’s her last meal; it has to be grand.” “Let the female lead enjoy this last bit of happiness. Later, on the run, she won’t even have a cracker. The one piece of bread she finds will be moldy.” “Thinking about it like that, she’s pretty miserable, isn’t she? Serves her right, she brought it on herself.” I quietly put down my fork. Damn these comments, they can’t even let me eat in peace. Liam noticed my action. “No appetite?” he asked. Perhaps because he was now not human, his voice was still cold, utterly devoid of emotion. I forced a bitter smile. “Maybe it’s because I didn’t sleep well last night; I’m a bit under the weather.” Liam tilted his head. His voice finally held a hint of emotion. “Is it because I couldn’t get the strawberries?” Why is he bringing up strawberries again?! Comments: “Poor male lead, dead and still trapped in the past, still thinking it’s his fault.” “Everyone, just one more day, and Liam awakens! It’ll be so satisfying when his memories return!” “Argh, I really hate this female lead! She caused his death just over some strawberries!” The comments made my nose sting. I couldn’t even remember why I had insisted on strawberries last night. Perhaps, as the comments said, the author just needed an excuse to drive the plot. But the strawberries were ultimately my request, and I was the one who caused Liam’s death. Thinking this, guilt washed over me like a tide. I stood up and, under Liam’s watchful gaze, hugged him. Liam’s body was stiff, like a cold wall. I mumbled into his shoulder, “I’ll never eat strawberries again.” Strawberries aren’t delicious at all! Liam didn’t move, letting me embrace him. “Why? Don’t you like them?” I hugged him tighter. “Because I don’t.” Liam said, “Then what do you like? I’ll get it for you.” I said, “I like you.” Liam said nothing more. His body subtly shifted for a moment. Then he raised his arms and hugged me tightly. Comments: “Wait, I’m actually starting to ship them. What’s going on, the male lead seems to be regaining consciousness?” “Liam isn’t going to awaken early, is he? If he does, fine, just kill Sarah already. I don’t want to see their romance.” “How does this feel both sweet and angsty? Also, does this relationship line really need to be written in such detail?”

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The moment I found out Pierce Holdings was our new investor, I knew I had already lost to Stella. She was his first love. The one that got away. Just as I expected, when the pitch meeting ended, Rowan chose Stella’s design over mine. Stella found me in the hallway shortly after. A sickly sweet smile played on her lips. “You might be his wife, but in his heart, I will always come first.” “Everything you fought so desperately to get, I can have without lifting a finger.” She and I had been bitter rivals since high school. It all started when her mother stole my father. And now, she had effortlessly stolen Rowan’s heart, too. I cast a weary glance at the tall, impeccably dressed man standing at the end of the corridor. A sudden, bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t want to fight Stella anymore. This time, I was letting him go. Between Rowan and my career, I chose my career. 1. The arrival of our new corporate backer had the whole office buzzing. He was outrageously handsome, came from ruthless old money, and possessed a ruthless business acumen that demanded respect. The investor was Rowan Pierce. My husband. When I saw his name on the brief, a cold knot twisted in my stomach. I knew my silent war with Stella was already over. In the breakroom, the gossip was flying thick and fast. “I can’t believe the CEO of Pierce Holdings is personally overseeing this. Rowan Pierce himself.” “If our team secures this bid, we are set for the entire fiscal year. We’ll be swimming in commissions.” “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s practically guaranteed to go to Stella’s team. Haven’t you heard? Rowan’s college sweetheart works right here in our design department. It’s Stella.” “They were the golden couple back at Boston University. Everyone knows he only invested in Aura Design just to get closer to her.” Every word felt like a needle sliding into my ribs. I walked back to my office like a ghost. The news of Rowan’s arrival was officially announced by noon. Manager Gibson called Stella and me into his glass-walled office. “Sienna, Stella.” He steepled his fingers, looking between us. “Pierce Holdings is funding our next major launch. Rowan Pierce wants both of your teams to draft competing proposals. You have one month.” Gibson offered Stella a meaningful, almost sycophantic look. He clearly knew the rumors. He knew exactly why Rowan had chosen our firm. I hadn’t even stepped out of the office before the realization hit me. My team was going to bust our asses for nothing. Going up against Stella meant I was nothing but a prop in her romantic reunion. In the hallway, Stella stopped. We stood face to face. I met her gaze, and her lips curved into a triumphant, radiant smirk. “May the best woman win, Sienna.” She sounded entirely too confident. She knew the game was rigged. Given the choice between her and me, Rowan would pick her every single time. I watched her walk away, the click of her heels echoing down the floor. Her department erupted into cheers the second she returned. If my team lost this bid, I would be demoted to working under Stella. I would have to swallow my pride and take orders from the woman who ruined my life. I refused to let that happen. Right before clocking out, half the floor gathered around Stella’s desk, drowning her in compliments. “You are incredible, Stella. We’re so lucky to have you.” I caught her eye through the crowd. She was the center of the universe, bathed in warm light and adoration. In stark contrast, my corner of the office was dead quiet. I stood completely alone. She offered me a pitying little smile. I looked away, grabbed my trench coat, and walked out into the cold New York evening. 2. Rowan got home late. His expression was the same as always. Cold, detached, undeniably beautiful. I couldn’t hold the question back any longer. “Rowan, did you invest in my firm?” He paused, shrugging off his tailored suit jacket. He met my eyes with a flat, indifferent stare and gave a single, soft hum of confirmation. “Why did you choose Aura Design?” I forced a light, teasing tone into my voice. “Are you going to show your wife some favoritism?” His dark eyebrows drew together. There was absolutely zero warmth in his deep-set eyes. He stayed quiet for a moment before answering. “It was a board decision. I don’t make these calls alone.” The unspoken message was loud and clear. Being his wife meant nothing. It bought me no privileges. I didn’t push it. He was always like this. Frosty and principled, operating by his own rigid set of rules. He never bent them for me. And like a fool, I always ended up humiliating myself by hoping I could be his exception. Rowan turned on his heel and walked into his study. He left the heavy oak door slightly ajar. I could hear the low murmur of his voice on the phone. Then, the unmistakable sound of Stella’s bright laughter drifting through the speaker. Rowan chuckled softly in response. A sound I rarely ever heard. When the call ended, he stepped back out into the foyer. He grabbed a heavy wool overcoat from the rack, slipping his arms into the sleeves and adjusting his leather oxfords. He stood tall, not quite looking at me. “I have a business dinner. Don’t wait up.” I simply nodded. Rowan was breathtakingly handsome. Sharp jawline, straight nose, and thin, expressive lips. The dark coat made his broad shoulders look even more imposing. The door clicked shut behind him. He didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. Any questions I had left died in my throat when I opened Instagram in bed. Stella had posted a new picture. It was a group selfie of four people at an upscale lounge. Stella, Rowan, and two of their old college friends. Staring at the screen, I realized I already knew the answer. Would he favor Stella over me? Yes. Without hesitation. I used to leave the hallway light on for him whenever he had late nights. Tonight, I switched it off and let the darkness swallow the apartment. I slept surprisingly well. The next morning, we left for work at different times, avoiding each other completely. The atmosphere at the office was suffocating. Everyone was treating Stella like royalty. It was an unspoken fact. Rowan wouldn’t have looked twice at our firm if she wasn’t here. My hatred for Stella was my own private burden. The rest of the staff only cared about their annual bonuses and keeping the VIP client happy. Rowan visited the office that afternoon to review our preliminary timelines. Gibson called Stella into the boardroom to meet him. When she finally emerged, every eye in the bullpen locked onto her. “Spill it, Stella. Is the big boss as terrifying as he looks?” A coy, ambiguous smile touched her lips. “I’ve known Rowan for a long time. He’s actually quite sweet.” She paused for dramatic effect. “You guys have nothing to worry about.” A few junior designers exchanged knowing glances and giggled. I already knew the legendary romance of Stella and Rowan. I had read the digital footprint of it a hundred times over. If I wasn’t his wife, I might have even thought it was a beautiful story of young love. But reading the archived posts compiled by their nosy classmates only made my chest ache. Stella still kept her old college blog public. It was a digital diary of everything they shared. I had tortured myself by reading every single entry. The more I read, the more I realized how fiercely Rowan had loved her. He used to read every trivial thing she posted, leaving long, thoughtful comments under each picture. He was the one who chased her first. Meanwhile, it took me a grueling, humiliating year of practically begging for his attention before he finally agreed to date me. When I first discovered his ex was Stella, a twisted, vicious thrill shot through me. I thought I had finally won. I thought I had taken something precious from her. But the reality was a brutal wake-up call. Rowan was still harboring feelings for his ex. Being married to a man who loved my worst enemy was the ultimate humiliation. It just gave Stella another way to crush me. 3. Stella and I had been at each other’s throats since middle school. We were oil and water. Her mother marched into our home, destroyed my parents’ marriage, and drove my mother to a severe mental breakdown that landed her in the psychiatric ward. I almost lost my mom forever. By high school, Stella and I ended up at the same prestigious prep academy. She missed the entrance cutoff by a single point. My father, Arthur, pulled strings and threw money at the board to get her in. That same year, my mother packed her bags and moved to London. I was left behind in Arthur’s sprawling, empty mansion. I was a naive teenager. I thought if I acted out, if I made their lives a living hell, the mistress and her daughter would pack up and leave. My tactics were juvenile. I spiked their morning water glasses with black drawing ink. I was too scared to actually poison them, so I just wanted to scare them. I wanted to mark my territory. Instead, Stella ran crying to Arthur. His face turned a dangerous shade of purple as he screamed at me, his disappointment suffocating. I hated them, but I didn’t have the stomach for true cruelty. Every stunt I pulled only made Arthur feel more guilty for the “hardships” he put his new family through. I thought graduation would be the end of it. But during my freshman year of college, Arthur dragged Stella to a high-society charity gala. He didn’t correct anyone who assumed she was his biological daughter. He even drafted paperwork to legally change her last name to Cross. I stood in his study, trembling with rage, and told him that if he gave her my family name, I would drop it and take my mother’s maiden name instead. His eyes burned with fury. He raised his hand, fully intending to strike me across the face. But a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped in front of me, catching my father’s wrist mid-air. It was Rowan. Years later, after graduating, our paths crossed again in the city. I spent twelve exhausting months chasing him. I was always there, always available, always trying to break through his icy exterior. Just as I was about to give up and walk away, he finally said yes. It wasn’t until after we exchanged vows that I found out Stella was his great college romance. Worse, I found out Rowan used to visit my father’s estate as Stella’s boyfriend. When Arthur received the news that I had married Rowan Pierce, his face went ashen. He clutched his chest, struggling to breathe. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he had gasped out. “You knew he was Stella’s boy. You married him just to spite her?” I had stood there, frozen in shock. During our first holiday season as a married couple, I refused to visit my father. Rowan insisted. He practically dragged me to the Cross estate. Within an hour of arriving, Stella and I got into a screaming match on the patio. We both slipped on the icy marble steps. Rowan moved with lightning speed. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms securely around Stella, breaking her fall. I hit the hard stone, scraping my knees bloody. Later, sitting in the urgent care clinic with tears stinging my eyes, I asked him why he didn’t reach for me. He didn’t even look up from his phone. His voice was completely void of emotion. “I didn’t see you fall.” When Rowan stepped out to take a call, Stella strolled into the exam room. She looked down at me on the hospital bed, a victorious gleam in her eyes. She spent the next ten minutes recounting every sweet, intimate moment she and Rowan shared in college. She described a version of my husband I had never met. A man who was tender, passionate, and hopelessly devoted. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vise. After I recovered, the universe played its final cruel joke. Stella and I were hired at the same design firm. The rat race started all over again. She flaunted her status as Arthur Cross’s beloved daughter, forcing management to treat her with kid gloves. Now, she had the added armor of being the billionaire investor’s former flame. The entire office worshipped the ground she walked on. I knew my proposal was doomed. But my pride wouldn’t let me quit. I dragged my team through sleepless nights and endless coffee runs, determined to go down fighting. 4. A month later, I walked into the glass boardroom with a perfectly bound portfolio. Everyone was seated. The only empty chairs belonged to Stella and Rowan. They walked in together. The morning sunlight caught them perfectly, illuminating the way Rowan tilted his head down to catch whatever Stella was whispering. His jawline was sharp, his posture relaxed. His dark eyes held a faint, genuine warmth. I caught his gaze for a split second. I searched his face, desperate to find even a flicker of guilt or reassurance. There was nothing. Just that familiar, freezing indifference. We drew straws for the presentation order. I was up first. I kept my composure, connecting my laptop and bringing the slides to life on the massive screen. I poured my soul into the pitch, breaking down every structural detail and creative inspiration. When I finished, the applause was painfully thin. The only person cheering genuinely was Brie, a bright-eyed junior designer who had been with me since her internship. Rowan sat like a statue. His face was an impenetrable mask. Manager Gibson kept shooting nervous glances at him, trying to read his mind. Then it was Stella’s turn. She walked to the front, locking eyes with Rowan effortlessly. They shared a private, lingering smile. The other executives at the table noticed. They exchanged knowing, amused looks. Brie leaned over to me, her voice barely a whisper. “Sienna… are we going to lose this?” I forced the corners of my mouth up into a brittle smile. When Stella concluded her presentation, the room erupted. The applause was deafening compared to mine. Gibson practically gave her a standing ovation. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of Rowan’s mouth. We took a thirty-minute recess before the final verdict. Lately, the constant barrage of rumors about Rowan and Stella had been suffocating me. The way he looked at me—like I was a stranger taking up space—made it hard to breathe. Thanks to the relentless office gossip, I had learned even more about their past. How Rowan would stand outside her dorm in the freezing rain just to walk her to class. How he brought her breakfast in bed. Every Boston alumni in our circle knew that Rowan Pierce had worshipped the ground Stella walked on. I sat in my leather chair, paralyzed. I watched them walk out of the boardroom side by side. My throat burned. The man I had moved mountains to marry was carrying the heart of the woman I despised most in this world. Soon, the room emptied out until it was just Brie and me. She reached under the table and squeezed my hand. Half an hour later, the executives returned. Rowan and his corporate entourage had already left the building. Gibson stood at the head of the table, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “The board has cast three votes,” he announced. “All three votes go to Stella’s team.” My eyes burned. A hot rush of unshed tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I dug my nails into my palms and swallowed the pain down. Gibson nodded at Stella, a look of profound respect on his face. Her team immediately swarmed her. “You killed it, Stella! We’re celebrating tonight!” I gathered my files and slipped out the back door, slipping away like a shadow. But Stella followed me. “Sienna.” I stopped in the middle of the hallway. Her eyes were crinkled in absolute delight. “You might share his bed, but I will always own his heart.” “You fought tooth and nail for a life that falls right into my lap.” She was right. When we were fourteen, she effortlessly stole my father’s love. Now, she commanded my husband’s devotion without even trying. Down the hall, I saw Gibson ushering Rowan toward the VIP elevator. Rowan looked relaxed, hands in his pockets, completely at ease. A crushing wave of fatigue hit me. I was done. I was done fighting Stella. And I was done with Rowan Pierce. The elevator doors were held open. Gibson, ever the opportunist, enthusiastically waved both Stella and me over to join them for the ride down to the lobby. The car descended in heavy silence. Gibson couldn’t resist kissing up. “Mr. Pierce, I must say, you and our Director Davis make quite the striking pair.” “A match made in heaven, really.” A few other executives chimed in immediately. “Absolutely. We actually heard a rumor you two tied the knot! Mr. Pierce is truly a romantic, choosing our firm just to support his wife’s career.” I stood in the corner, entirely numb. My heart didn’t even skip a beat at the horrific irony. Suddenly, I felt a heavy, burning stare fixed on the side of my face. I slowly turned my head. Rowan’s jaw was clenched tight, his face drained of color. Gibson nudged my elbow, practically demanding I join the praise chorus. “Isn’t that right, Sienna? Don’t they make the perfect couple?” The stainless steel doors glided open to the lobby. I looked Rowan dead in the eyes. My voice was eerily calm. “They really are a perfect match.” Panic flared in the depths of his dark eyes. His lips parted as if he wanted to scream something.

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Ever since my husband replaced the framed wedding photo above our bed with an oil painting done by his former college mentor, a sudden, heavy exhaustion washed over me. When I slid the signed divorce papers across the table to him, his face turned to ice. “I don’t even have the right to change a single painting in my own home?” he snapped. “You want a divorce over this? You’re just going to abandon the son you coddle so much?” I nodded slowly. I didn’t want any of it anymore. After all, my precious little boy was exactly like his father. They both put another woman first. 1 Arthur sat across from me, his face expressionless as he flipped through the divorce agreement I had just handed him. He didn’t read it carefully, merely skimming the pages before slapping the folder shut. “Just because I swapped out a piece of art? You’re throwing a tantrum and demanding a divorce over something this trivial?” He looked at me as if I were a toddler throwing a fit. “Think this through. I don’t have the time to play these games with you. Are you seriously giving up custody of Oliver? The son you hold in the palm of your hand?” I glanced toward the living room. Oliver was sitting on the sofa, eyes glued to the television, even though it was well past his bedtime. “I’m giving it up,” I answered. Arthur scoffed, pulled a pen from his pocket, and carelessly scribbled his name on the dotted line. Earlier this afternoon, I had cooked dinner just like any other day. Braised short ribs. It was the absolute favorite of the two men in my house. I watched the hands of the wall clock tick by, hour after hour, but the front door remained shut. I called Arthur. It rang twice before the line went dead. He had deliberately rejected my call. Finally, just past ten o’clock, the father and son returned. They were carefully carrying a heavily wrapped canvas. I had reheated the food three times. Yet, moving in perfect unison, they completely ignored the dining table and rushed straight to the master bedroom. I followed them to the doorway and watched Arthur take down the wedding portrait that had hung above our headboard for years. “Why are you taking that down all of a sudden?” I asked quietly. Arthur didn’t pause his movements. He didn’t even look back. “Do I not even have the right to change a painting?” Oliver was standing right beside him, standing on his tiptoes to help his father steady the new frame. The little boy’s eyes crinkled into a sweet, bright smile. “Dad, when can we go eat burgers with Aunt Valerie again?” Arthur immediately clamped a hand over Oliver’s mouth, shooting a nervous, sidelong glance at me. “I didn’t tell you we saw her because I didn’t want you to misunderstand.” Valerie was Arthur’s former college mentor. She was also mine. Recently, due to a corporate transfer, she had been assigned to the exact same research facility where Arthur worked. I lowered my eyes, looking back toward the dining room where the food was growing cold once again. “Just don’t take Oliver for fast food next time,” I said softly. “You know he has a sensitive stomach.” “Alright, I get it,” Arthur brushed me off, lifting the new painting onto the wall. He adjusted it slightly, stepped back with a satisfied smile, and pulled out his phone to snap a picture. “Dad, Aunt Valerie is so amazing. I didn’t know she could paint, too,” Oliver said, staring up at the wall with pure admiration. I finally looked at the canvas. It was a lush, romantic oil painting. So, Valerie painted it. Arthur didn’t answer our son. He was too busy smiling warmly at his phone screen, his thumbs typing away at lightning speed. Oliver scrambled up onto the mattress, craning his little neck to peek at Arthur’s screen. “Dad, what are you texting Aunt Valerie? I want to talk to her, too!” After Arthur signed the divorce papers, I decided to leave that very night. But as I looked around the house I had painstakingly maintained for nearly eight years, I didn’t even know where to begin packing. “It’s too late tonight. You can just leave tomorrow,” Arthur said, watching me from the hallway. I shook my head. “No. Tonight is fine.” I packed only my absolute essentials. I took off my wedding ring and left it on the nightstand. I didn’t take a single thing that belonged to the life we built together. As I dragged my suitcase to the front door and bent down to change my shoes, Oliver walked over. He stood there silently, staring at me with wide, timid eyes. Looking at the tiny human I had raised with every ounce of my being for six years, a sharp, uncontrollable ache pierced my chest. “I’m divorcing your father,” I told him, keeping my voice steady. “You need to listen to him from now on. Eat less junk food. And remember you are allergic to seafood. Don’t let him feed you crab.” Oliver blinked, then rolled his eyes with a look of pure indifference. “Hmph. Dad said you’ll be back in a few days anyway. You don’t even have any friends in this city. You only have me and Dad.” Then, he stepped closer, stood on his tiptoes, and whispered directly into my ear. “Mom, you should just stay away forever. I don’t like you. I like Aunt Valerie. If you never come back, Aunt Valerie can be my new mom.” Those words obliterated the last remaining soft spot in my heart. People say children speak the innocent truth. And it is exactly because he was a child that he didn’t sugarcoat his true feelings. The son I had held in the palm of my hand, the boy I had given up everything to nurture, had never actually liked me. I didn’t say another word. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, opened the door, and walked out into the night. 2 Oliver was not entirely wrong. I truly had no friends in this city. Years ago, Arthur and I were in a long-distance relationship. Terrified of losing him and desperate to build a future together, I packed my bags, left my hometown, and resigned from a career I genuinely loved. I was fueled by blind, passionate love, fully believing that the right man would be waiting for me at the finish line. For a while, we were deeply in love. And then we had our beautiful son, Oliver. A baby required constant care, and Arthur refused to step back from his demanding career path. “Someone always has to make a sacrifice in a marriage, right?” he had hinted. I understood what he meant. The job I had found in this new city wasn’t nearly as prestigious or high-paying as his. So, convinced that our family’s happiness was all that mattered, I willingly stepped into the role of the devoted housewife. I managed our lives. I raised our son. That was until Valerie transferred to Arthur’s lab. From that moment on, I watched our relationship decay day by day. The warmth faded into coldness. The cracks splintered into shattering breaks. Even Oliver changed. More than once, he had casually mentioned that he wished Valerie was his mother. I stood on the desolate street corner in the early hours of the morning, waiting for a cab. The midnight wind cutting through my coat was bitter, but my heart felt even colder. I rented a small, cozy apartment. It had large windows that welcomed the morning sun. Back when I was a housewife, I used my sparse free time to write independent research papers and compile data analysis. Just today, I received an email confirming I had won a mid-tier industry award for one of my submissions. The prize money wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to cover my living expenses for at least half a year. When I woke up the next morning, a rare, profound sense of peace washed over me. I didn’t have to jolt out of bed the second the alarm blared, nor did I have to scramble to make breakfast and pack Oliver’s school bag. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. I took my time applying a light, fresh layer of makeup. I styled my hair properly. Looking at my reflection, the exhausted, hollow ghost of the housewife was gone. I looked alive again. I even signed up for a membership at a local fitness studio. When I lived with Arthur, keeping up with a hyperactive child and managing an entire household was physically draining, but it wasn’t the kind of movement that made me feel strong. Society loves to gossip about stay-at-home mothers, branding them as lazy or useless. I never cared about the whispers. I knew the truth. If we had relied solely on Arthur’s paycheck, Oliver would never have been able to live the pampered, spoiled life he enjoyed. My endless unpaid labor was what kept that house afloat. I shook the thoughts from my head and sat down at my laptop to polish my resume. I wanted to go back. I wanted to stand in a real laboratory again, not just sit at a makeshift desk in a laundry room. That afternoon, I treated myself to my absolute favorite cuisine. A blistering, tongue-numbing Szechuan hot pot. Because Arthur and Oliver preferred mild, sweet flavors, I had practically banished chili peppers from my kitchen for years. Taking that first bite of spicy, boiling broth, the heat rushed to my head. It was a sharp, painful reminder of how completely I had erased my own identity to accommodate theirs. That evening, Arthur called. His tone was perfectly casual, as if nothing had changed. “I’m just calling to ask about a sealed box of your things in the closet. I didn’t open it. Give me your new address, and I’ll mail it to you.” I paused for a moment, then replied smoothly. “You can open it. It’s just a bunch of useless junk from the past. I don’t need it anymore. Throw it all in the trash.” Arthur hesitated on the other end, his breathing faltering. “Oh, and by the way,” I added. “If you find anything else that belongs to me, just throw it out. Save yourself the trouble of calling me.” I ended the call. That box contained every single keepsake from the early days of our relationship. Movie tickets, handwritten notes, little gifts he had bought me when we had nothing. I had clung to them for years, unable to let them go. Now, they were just garbage. After a few rounds of interviews, I successfully landed a position at a private biotech firm. They were impressed by my independent research and offered me my own lab space to lead a small project. Leaving work that evening, I stopped by the supermarket. In the past, my grocery cart was always filled with ingredients tailored exclusively to my husband and son’s cravings. Today, I was going to spoil my own appetite. Just as I was pushing my cart down the produce aisle, my phone rang. It was Oliver’s kindergarten teacher. “Oliver’s Mom, I just wanted to check if you forgot the time today? All the other children have been picked up. Oliver is the only one left waiting here.” 3 I checked my watch. It had been over an hour since the kindergarten dismissed its students. I didn’t stop walking. I kept pushing my cart toward the fresh seafood section, absolutely refusing to alter my plans. “I’m sorry, Teacher,” I said calmly. “Oliver’s father and I are divorced. His father has full custody now. Please contact him from now on. Let me give you his number.” “Oh! I had no idea,” the teacher stammered, clearly embarrassed. “Because you’ve always been the one to pick him up, and Oliver insisted I call you. I’m so sorry to bother you.” I was about to tell her it was fine and hang up, but I suddenly heard Oliver snatch the phone from his teacher. “Mom, you are being so petty!” his shrill voice barked through the speaker. “Dad is super busy at work! You don’t even do anything all day, why can’t you just come pick me up?” “Hmph. If it were Aunt Valerie, she would definitely come get me.” Hearing those words, my heart didn’t even skip a beat. “Oliver,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “Your father and I are divorced. I am never coming to pick you up again. If no one comes to get you, tell your teacher to call your father. Or, if you prefer, you can tell her to call your precious Aunt Valerie.” I hung up and slipped the phone into my pocket. I truly didn’t remember raising him to be this entitled. When he was little, Arthur was always working late, and I would constantly tell Oliver how hard his father worked and how we needed to be understanding. But children are incredibly adaptable. Give them endless devotion, and they will soon view your sacrifice as their birthright. I massaged my temples. Whatever. He wasn’t my problem anymore. But my phone refused to stay quiet. Later that night, as I was finishing my dinner, Arthur called. “Eleanor, what am I supposed to do? Oliver’s stomach is acting up again. I tore the whole house apart and I can’t find his medication. Where did you hide it?” I swallowed the rising irritation and spoke evenly. “Bottom drawer of the cabinet beneath the television.” “Oh. Found it.” A brief silence hung on the line. “Uh, also… Oliver’s teacher called you today, right? I got tied up at the lab and ran late. Did they bother you?” I had no idea what Arthur was playing at. He sounded like he was awkwardly grasping for small talk. “Yes, it bothered me. So please, do not call my number ever again.” For years, my calls to him had been sent straight to voicemail. He had never once initiated a call just to check on me. Yet, in the few days since I left, my phone hadn’t stopped ringing. The next day, I went to the carrier and changed my phone number. Finally, the calls from Arthur ceased. I threw myself entirely into the laboratory. I often stayed from dawn until dusk, losing track of time among the equipment. Here, in the sterile white room, I felt the original spark of my ambition reignite. It felt like stepping back into my college days. I remembered who I was—a brilliant student fiercely passionate about scientific discovery. I just couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I had allowed life to drain that passion out of me, volunteering to bury my own dreams for his. One afternoon, the department director knocked on the glass of my lab. He told me a partnering research team was here for a project handover. I peeled off my latex gloves and walked toward the reception room. Through the glass wall, I spotted a painfully familiar silhouette. Arthur. And sitting right beside him was Oliver. Arthur was awkwardly trying to explain to the bewildered director why he had brought a six-year-old child to a corporate facility. I pushed the door open. Arthur looked up, his brows furrowing slightly as if my presence offended him. “Mom…” Oliver mumbled, clutching the fabric of Arthur’s shirt, his voice small and timid. “Ah, let me introduce you. This is the lead researcher for our side of the project. She will handle the handover,” the director said, gesturing toward me. I offered a polite smile. “No introduction necessary, Director. This is my ex-husband. I’ll take it from here. You can get back to your work.” The director’s eyes widened. He offered an incredibly awkward chuckle and practically sprinted out of the room. I sat down across from them, flipped open the project file, and didn’t miss a beat. “According to the roster, your team should have one more representative present.” Just as the words left my mouth, the door clicked open. Valerie walked in. “My apologies. Traffic was terrible,” she said smoothly.

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