Category: English

The magnificent fifty-million-dollar pink diamond, crafted by Smith Group, vanished without a trace during its launch event. Chloe, my subordinate whom I’d personally mentored, wailed hysterically into the cameras of a hundred media outlets: “Eleanor, that’s the lifeblood of Smith Group! Even if you desperately need money for your mother’s medical treatment, you can’t steal it!” Ethan, the Smith Group CEO I had loved for five years, publicly threw out a fabricated surveillance screenshot, captioned: “Mistaking garbage for gold is the biggest stain on my life, Ethan Smith.” Overnight, I became a notorious thief, public enemy number one across the entire internet. My mother’s intensive care ward was violently kicked open by influencers, and my brother, Leo, who has Asperger’s, was forced to drink dirty water from a toilet. Everyone demanded that I pay for my crimes with my life. Ethan’s bodyguards cornered me at the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge. The entire internet celebrated: “Jump! You deserve to die!” But three days later, when Chloe, at her lavish engagement party, flaunted that same pink diamond to the world, dozens of police cruisers roared to a halt, completely encircling the entire ballroom. Did they really think I was just some pushover all these years?

“Eleanor, where did you hide the ‘Star River Pink Diamond’? Speak up!” Chloe’s hand clamped down hard on my arm. Her freshly done, diamond-studded manicure dug sharply into my forearm. Tiny trails of blood instantly seeped out. Her eyes were bloodshot, and large tears streamed down her face. She sobbed dramatically into the hundreds of media cameras at the press conference. Mr. Davies, Smith Group’s Head of Security, irritably tugged at his walkie-talkie. A police baton slammed against the display stand with a resounding thud. The bulletproof glass hummed. “Eleanor, this pink diamond is a crucial piece for Smith Group, set to win a gold award at the International Jewelry Exhibition!” Mr. Davies pointed his finger at me, spittle flying as he spoke. “Now, the iris-recognition safe that Chloe was personally responsible for has been forcibly cracked, and the diamond is gone!” “The hallway surveillance clearly shows that only you returned to the core design studio last night, past midnight!” “If you don’t produce the diamond today, I’m calling the police to arrest you immediately!” I stared at them expressionlessly. I raised my hand and, one by one, pried Chloe’s fingers from my flesh. Then I pushed her back about a foot and a half. “I came back last night to get the exhibition schedule I’d forgotten.” I met Mr. Davies’ eyes, my voice flat. “As for that iris-recognition safe, Chloe insisted on being personally responsible for it from the very beginning.” “Only she recorded her iris and dynamic password. I never even touched that wretched box. How could I have cracked it?” “You’re lying!” Chloe shrieked, her perfectly applied makeup contorted with rage. She spun around abruptly and flung herself at Ethan, who was emerging from the VIP channel. “Ethan, you heard it last night, didn’t you?” Chloe tugged at the sleeve of his tailored suit, crying dramatically, her face streaked with tears. “Eleanor said in the breakroom last night that her mother’s kidney failure needed urgent surgery, and she wanted to take valuable company items to the black market for a quick turnover.” “I chewed her out, and she even got mad at me!” I froze. My blood slowly turned cold. Ethan. The man for whom I’d pulled countless all-nighters, revising proposals, and braved a blizzard to cross half of New York to queue for special stomach medicine. The man I had silently loved for five entire years, even sacrificing the chance to launch my own brand to support him. Ethan straightened, scoffing. He tossed his Rolls-Royce car keys onto the display stand, where they landed with a sharp clink.

“I’ll vouch for that.” He didn’t even spare me a glance, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust. “Eleanor did say something like that.” “It’s normal for scum from the streets like her to go crazy with envy when she sees a fifty-million-dollar pink diamond.” Every word was like a rusty, dull knife slicing into my nerves. “Ethan, when did I ever say I’d steal something for money?” I bit down hard, tasting blood on my tongue. “Why are you giving false testimony for her?” Ethan pulled out his phone. The screen was shoved directly into my face. It was his latest social media post, already with tens of thousands of likes. The accompanying image was a surveillance screenshot of me searching for documents in the design studio last night. The caption read: “Mistaking garbage for gold is the biggest stain on my life, Ethan Smith.” “Don’t play innocent here.” Ethan looked down at me. “You’re always trying to worm your way into my life, aren’t you, just for my money?” “Now that you realize you can’t get anything out of me, you’ve laid your grubby hands on the company’s confidential assets?” “Ethan, don’t be so harsh on Eleanor.” Chloe nestled closer to Ethan, looking like a frightened, pitiful kitten. “She might really be desperate.” She turned, addressing me in a condescending, charitable tone. “Eleanor, if you just hand over the pink diamond, we won’t call the police. We can resolve this internally, okay?” Mr. Davies impatiently tapped the table. “Eleanor, the public outcry is already out of control!” “The PR department’s phones are ringing off the hook with calls from investors!” “If you don’t produce the diamond, the company will fire you today and blacklist you across the entire industry!” I straightened my spine, refusing to back down. “I didn’t steal it.” “Go ahead and call the police. Investigate my income, search my apartment.” Hearing “search my apartment,” Chloe’s eye twitched violently. But she immediately raised her voice. “What good will searching her apartment do?” “It’s a fifty-million-dollar diamond! You could sell it at any black market or hide it in some sewer. Who would ever find it?” “Eleanor, did you secretly mail the diamond overnight to your crazy brother at that special education school?” My fists clenched. My brother isn’t crazy! He just has Asperger’s Syndrome! His talent in mathematics is far greater than anyone present! Chloe was fabricating lies, even dragging my innocent brother into it, just to solidify my guilt. “Chloe, spreading rumors and defamation, causing significant economic loss, can land you in jail.” I stared at her. “Me, spreading rumors?” Chloe suddenly sneered. She pulled out her phone, attached it to a selfie stick, and opened a live stream. The camera zoomed in on my face. “Everyone! This is Eleanor, the thief who stole the fifty-million-dollar pink diamond!” Chloe, who had been sneering a second ago, instantly burst into tears. “She won’t even return the diamond, and she’s threatening me!” “The company’s hard work, meant for the exhibition, all taken by her to squander on her psycho brother!” The live stream instantly surged to over a hundred thousand viewers. The comments section was flooded with malicious curses. [She looks so poor, turns out she’s a thief!] [Find out where she lives! Kill her whole family!] Ethan stepped in front of the camera, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s shoulder. He looked at me as if I were a pile of garbage. “Don’t worry, everyone, I’ll hire the best legal team in New York for Chloe.” “We won’t let any corporate scoundrel get away with it.” I looked at that loathsome couple. A wave of nausea washed over me. So, five years of genuine affection had been thrown away on nothing. “Ethan, do you really think I stole the diamond?” “Do you really think you’re worthy of my trust?”

“Get out! Our company finds your filth disgusting!” I had just been shoved out of the company building by security when a cup of scalding iced Americano came flying at my face. I dodged, but the bitter coffee splattered against the revolving glass door, soaking my only white work blouse. Outside the building, chaos reigned. My office belongings were in a broken cardboard box, tossed on the steps, covered in muddy shoe prints. A large, glaring splash of red paint marred the center, making it look like a crime scene. Chloe stood inside the door, wearing limited-edition high heels. Several interns who usually sucked up to me crowded around her, all holding up their phones, recording me. “What are you staring at?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Even your breathing pollutes Smith Group’s air.” “Everyone collectively decided to throw you out like trash.” The entire street was packed with onlookers. Contemptuous stares and whispers felt like knives slicing my face. “She even stole the company’s lifeblood, why isn’t she dead yet?” “I heard she used to get poverty subsidies from the company. Pure ingrate!” I ignored the voices. I knelt, searching through the rubbish on the ground. I picked up a shattered photo frame. Inside, it was a picture of my mother, my brother, and me. My father had died in a car accident years ago, leaving us with crushing debts. My mother had worked construction to put me through college. A shard of broken glass dug deeply into my index finger. A bead of blood welled up. Chloe stepped out. Her slender heel deliberately ground into my design drafts, twisting it twice. She leaned down, whispering in a voice only we could hear: “Eleanor, don’t struggle.” “Just take the blame for this, and you’ll get less abuse.” I slowly stood up. I stared coldly at her Botox-filled face. “You know best where the diamond went.” I lowered my voice, my tone chilling. “Are you sure you deleted the underlying hidden logs of the iris-recognition safe completely?” Chloe’s smug expression instantly froze. Her pupils contracted slightly. But she was a born drama queen. The next second, she stumbled back two steps, slamming her back against the glass door. “Ah—!” Chloe let out a bloodcurdling scream. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her face and wailing. “Eleanor! Why did you hit me!” “I was just telling you to turn yourself in before it’s too late!” “You stole something, but how can you hurt someone too!” The crowd outside instantly erupted. “Holy crap! The thief even dares to hit people!” A slightly overweight male fanatic rushed forward and shoved me hard. I was unprepared. My back slammed against the marble pillar, and a spasm of pain shot through me. “Beat this shameless bitch to death!” The crowd lost control. Countless hands reached out. Someone pulled my hair. Someone tore at my collar. Someone took advantage of the chaos to kick me hard in the shin several times. I could only clench my teeth, fiercely clutching the photo frame to my chest. “What are you doing! Are you rebelling!” The building security guards, armed with riot shields, charged into the crowd, forcibly pushing people away. I leaned against the pillar, gasping for breath. My hair was disheveled, my white shirt torn, exposing my shoulder. Chloe was solicitously helped up by several interns. She hid behind the crowd, a cunning, poisonous smile curling her lips. “Security guards, she stole a fifty-million-dollar diamond and hit me.” Chloe, the villain, cried foul first. “We absolutely cannot let a violent maniac like her remain near the company!” The security guard looked at me with disgust, as if I were something filthy. “Eleanor, Mr. Smith just issued strict orders.” “You’re completely fired.” “Grab your junk and get off this street immediately.” I said nothing. I picked up the broken cardboard box and haphazardly shoved the undestroyed drafts from the ground inside. Hugging the box, I walked down the steps, one by one. Outside, the sun beat down fiercely. My phone vibrated frantically in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a trending news notification: [Former director of a famous New York jewelry company steals fifty-million-dollar pink diamond, a beast in human skin!] The accompanying image was a screenshot of my university mentor’s Ins post. The esteemed old professor, a giant in the design world, had publicly written: “The biggest shame of my life is having taught a student like Eleanor.” Immediately followed by a second post: [I have resigned from all association positions out of shame, unable to face the public.] My mind buzzed and exploded. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. My breathing felt blocked by sandpaper. A SnapChat notification popped up. It was a message from Chloe. [Eleanor, the whole internet is condemning you. Why don’t you get on your knees and beg me? If I’m in a good mood, I might even put in a good word for you. ] I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash my phone. I typed a reply. [Chloe, you’re overacting. It’s easy to lose control of the show.] Her reply was instantaneous. [Still so stubborn. You’ll soon find out what true despair feels like.]

“Ellie… they said you’re a thief… they stomped on my drawing board… and they held me in the sink…” On the phone, my fourteen-year-old brother, Leo, was sobbing uncontrollably. In the background, there were sharp jeers and the sound of things smashing. My mind went blank. I dropped the box and ran like a madwoman to flag down a taxi. By the time I reached the special education school, the sky had turned gloomy. The school entrance was blocked, swarming with influencers who had descended from every corner of the city, drawn by the scent of blood. Seven or eight blinding ring lights were pointed at the school gate. “Everyone, look closely! This is the crazy brother of that fifty-million-dollar pink diamond thief!” A yellow-haired influencer held a selfie stick, almost shoving his phone into Leo’s eyes. “To raise such a scoundrel, this little psycho must be rotten to the core too!” The school’s security guard was sweating profusely, trying to block the cameras. “Stop filming! The child is innocent!” “Hey, what the heck! The old man dares to hit me?!” The yellow-haired influencer shrieked dramatically, then grabbed a cup of sour milk tea from a nearby trash can and violently slammed it onto Leo’s head. Sticky tapioca pearls and sour milk tea dripped down Leo’s face. Leo cowered in the corner, clutching his head, trembling all over, letting out unconscious screams. It was a sign of his condition acting up. My eyes instantly turned red. I charged into the crowd, grabbed the yellow-haired influencer by the collar, and shoved him hard. “Get out! Who gave you permission to cause trouble here!” I stood in front of Leo, like a protective mother wolf. “The main culprit is here! Guys, quick, film her!” All cameras instantly swiveled, pointing at me. The flashing lights made it impossible to open my eyes. Just then, the screeching roar of a sports car tore through the commotion. A black Rolls-Royce drove directly onto the sidewalk, stopping at the school gate. The crowd automatically parted. The car door sprang open. Ethan, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his leather shoes spotless, stepped out. Chloe clung to his arm, looking like a helpless bird. She carried a brand-new Hermès Himalaya bag, its perfume scent overpowering the sour smell in the air. “Eleanor, you won’t believe it until it’s staring you in the face, will you?” Ethan walked up to me. He pulled a black card from his suit’s inner pocket, holding it between two fingers, disdainfully swaying it in the air. “Inside here is a million dollars.” He gestured to the ground with his chin. “Now, kneel down.” “Kowtow three times to Chloe and say you were wrong, that you shouldn’t have thrown dirt on her name.” “Then I’ll give you this money, as if charity to a beggar, for your mother’s surgery and to treat your foolish brother.” The surrounding influencers, as if on drugs, furiously pressed their camera shutters. Leo cried out in fear, clutching my shirt corner tightly. I pulled Leo behind me. I turned, staring fixedly at Ethan. The hatred in my eyes was almost palpable. “Ethan, you think a bit of money can help you manipulate everything?” I gritted my teeth, enunciating each word. “Your dear sister right here knows better than anyone where that fifty-million-dollar pink diamond went.” Ethan took a step forward. He grabbed my chin tightly, with so much force it almost crushed my jawbone. “Eleanor, I’m warning you for the last time.” His eyes were menacing. “Dare to bite Chloe again, and I’ll make sure your whole family can’t survive in New York.” He disgustedly pushed my face away. He took a wet wipe Chloe offered him, carefully cleaning his fingers as if he had touched some disgusting virus. When he finished, he crumpled the wipe into a ball and threw it at my face. “Tomorrow, the industry-wide blacklist will be sent to every company.” “Let’s go.” The sports car roared away, leaving a trail of exhaust and the influencers’ unrestrained mockery.

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The girl my lawyer boyfriend once defended, Chloe, put a thumbtack in my shoe, leaving me bleeding profusely. My boyfriend apologized for her again. The doctor was disinfecting and injecting me. The needle went in deep, making me sob uncontrollably. “Ethan, how many times have you apologized to me because of Chloe?” He looked dazed, meeting my reddened eyes. I told him, “Fifty-one.” On average, once a week. This has been going on since he took Chloe’s case, during our eighth year together. It was spent enduring his endless apologies. My voice still trembled at the end, but I wiped away my tears. “Ethan, I’ve had enough.” “I’m tired. Aren’t you tired of it too?” “I’m sorry.” He was silent for a long time, and still, that was all he said. I let go of his hand. I hated needles. For years, whenever I had an injection, it was our ritual for him to offer his hand for me to squeeze tight. “Ethan, I’m sick of hearing ‘I’m sorry.’” He lowered his gaze, watching me struggle to even walk. “I’ll make Chloe come and apologize too.” “Sarah, I promise, this will be the last time something like this happens.” When I saw Chloe, she was already sobbing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” “The thumbtacks spilled, and I didn’t notice one fell into your shoe.” Ethan didn’t need my reaction; he already believed her. “Sarah, the security camera footage isn’t very clear. You can’t just assume she did it.” It was the same as every other time he’d defended Chloe. “Let’s just drop this.” My wound was still seeping blood. “Ethan, you apologize for her, and you’re just going to let it go for my sake.” “You’re really good at handling things, aren’t you?” Catching the sarcasm in my voice, Ethan’s brow furrowed abruptly, and his voice involuntarily rose. “She already said it was an accident, so what more do you want?” “What kind of apology or compensation would satisfy you? I’ll take care of it.” He loosened his tie, looking at me as if I were some kind of cold-blooded monster. “Chloe’s still young. She’s not as bad as you think.” “You’re years older than her, why are you being so petty?” His chest heaved. In the past, at this point, I’d be too exhausted to argue, intimidated by his aggression, and the matter would be dropped. But now, I looked at Chloe, who had arrived home before Ethan and me, busying herself in the kitchen. I didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened anymore. Hearing the door, Chloe peeked out from the kitchen. “Sarah, I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, so I came back early to cook. Consider it my apology.” “I’m a great cook, you know.” “Whenever you were away on business, I’d come over and cook for Ethan.” Chloe’s fingerprint was in our digital lock. She was wearing slippers identical to Ethan’s. She was wearing my pajamas. She was rummaging through the kitchen with familiar ease. And she kept saying, “I’m always here.” After returning from my business trip and going straight to the hospital, I finally started noticing all these traces in our home. “Ethan, she came here often while I was away?” He pursed his lips. “She’s taking a break from school and said she was bored at home, so she offered to cook for me.” “She’s just being kind; it doesn’t concern you.” My eyes, swollen and aching from crying, made my sensitive nerves still throb. “It does concern me.” Of the fifty-one apologies Ethan had given me, some were for Chloe breaking my necklace that was in his car. Some were for the many times he ditched me to go find Chloe. Some were for Chloe crashing my dates with Ethan and insisting on joining us. Some were for Chloe tripping me and spilling hot soup on me, causing me injuries multiple times. I pointed at Chloe and said coldly, “Pay my medical bills. Not just for this, but for all the previous incidents…” I calculated a total. Ethan’s jaw tightened beside me. I continued, “And take off those clothes. They’re mine…”

“Enough!” As if he couldn’t bear it anymore, Ethan suddenly roared. “I told her to wear the clothes.” “Last time she was here, it got too late, so I let her stay the night and found her one of your shirts.” “It’s just one outfit.” “If you want, I’ll buy you another one, exactly the same!” “It’s not the same!” I screamed back, my face a mess. Veins bulged on the back of his hand as he repeatedly asked me, “How is it not the same? Is it just because you don’t like her?” “I’ve paid her debt for the money you wanted.” “Ten times the amount, is that enough?!” “Why are you harassing a young girl?!” My ears throbbed, and my palms tingled; I gasped for air. “You’re paying for her? What makes you her protector?” “She’s a criminal. Where do you get such a huge sense of responsibility?” “Time after time, she does this on purpose. Ethan, are you blind? Can’t you see it?” We argued at the top of our lungs. “You only took her mother’s case as her defense attorney.” “There are professionals to look after her, to guide her.” “She clings to you, and you just let her.” “Can’t you see she likes you?” His words weren’t just words; they were needles, piercing me where I was most vulnerable. “Sarah, shut up!” “Do you have any empathy? How can you be so vicious?” “She made mistakes, but does she have to be bound by her past forever?” “You keep calling her a criminal. Why are you acting so superior?” In the midst of our argument, Chloe ran out, as if she couldn’t stand it anymore. Ethan moved to follow, but I blocked his path, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t you dare leave!” “If you walk out that door today, we’re over.” Ethan ignored my tears, his voice filled with rage. “Sarah, I told you.” “The only reason Chloe bullied others at school was because her parents neglected her. She made mistakes because she grew up in a loveless home.” “She’s not bad at heart.” “The court only ordered probation.” “What right do you have to insult her?” “I defended her, I believe in her, so she relies on me, she’s willing to listen to me and make amends.” “Why wouldn’t I look after her?” “Are you really going to be as cold-hearted as you are, and abandon a child’s future?” His last sentence was slow and cold. “Now I even wonder if you did something between you and Chloe.” His phone rang. Chloe’s name flickered like a persistent ghost. I wouldn’t let Ethan answer. He tried to snatch it. He yanked me, slamming me against the wall with a loud thud. My foot was still injured; I couldn’t stand steadily and collapsed to the floor. His phone also fell, and a spiderweb of cracks spread across the screen. Ethan’s eyes blazed with fury. My tailbone, back, and lower abdomen screamed in agony; every word I spoke made me gasp. “Ethan, help me up…” His eyes were fixed on the leaking phone screen. He fumbled with it, his hand slipping three or four times before he finally answered. He tried to pull me up from the floor. “You’re coming with me.” “You’re going to apologize to Chloe for what you said!” Chloe’s voice leaked from the phone, crying and yelling, “I don’t want to see her! I don’t!” I flailed in Ethan’s grasp like a duck whose neck was being squeezed. He tossed me away again, and I fell back down with a heavy thud. The room darkened with the fading light outside. Ethan rushed out, the hallway light casting his face in a chiaroscuro of light and shadow. “And another thing.” “So what if Chloe likes me?” “It’s normal for a young girl to have a crush; she just needs proper guidance.” “Not for you to act like a maniac, just because you’re jealous of a little girl.” “Today isn’t about you threatening to break up with me.” “It’s about whether you can bear the consequences if Chloe gets hurt.” My fingers curled up in pain, and I melted into a heap on the floor. It took a long time for me to find the strength to respond.

The wound on my foot had scabbed over and the scab had fallen off. I couldn’t say what else vanished with that wound. My twenty-seventh birthday arrived. My friend, Maya, covered my eyes and led me all the way to our destination. “Happy Birthday!” Fireworks burst one after another in the sky, laughter filled the air, and confetti floated down. My blurry vision cleared, and I saw everyone’s smiling faces. Ethan knelt on one knee before me. “Happy birthday, Sarah.” “Will you marry me?” He was so gentle, nothing like the horrible fight we had that night. “I haven’t been in touch lately because I was afraid you were still mad at me.” “I’ve also been preparing for this proposal.” The city’s most exclusive rooftop view, custom-made fireworks, peonies covering the ground. It clearly required a lot of thoughtful preparation. “I’ve handled everything.” “I’ve handed Chloe’s case over to someone else, she won’t bother us anymore.” “Sarah, marry me!” The cheers reached a crescendo. “Say yes! Say yes!” “I…” Just as I uttered a syllable, Ethan’s phone rang again and again. One ring, two rings. The hand holding the ring trembled, and he bit his teeth. Still, he answered. He gestured for everyone to wait. And stopped my hesitant, trembling hand. Only a few muffled sounds came through the phone, but I clearly heard, “waiting for you.” I was all too familiar with this scene. Many times, Ethan had been called away like this, because Chloe said she was in trouble, or she was sad, or she needed him. Ethan’s temple throbbed. He shoved the ring into my hand. “Sarah.” “I’m sorry.” The fifty-second apology, on the first day of my twenty-seventh year. “Wait for me to come back. I’ll propose again properly then.” He ran out quickly, his clothes flapping in the wind. The awkwardness, the probing looks, the pity from everyone fell on me. “Ethan, where the hell are you going—” The wind scattered Maya’s curses. Ethan pushed open the door to another terrace. “Chloe, get down from there!” Chloe sat on the railing, swaying precariously, her expression manic. “It’s my eighteenth birthday today too, and you haven’t even wished me happy birthday.” Ethan rubbed his throbbing temples, worn down, with no fight left. “Okay, happy birthday.” “Now, get down. Please, get down, and I’ll spend it with you however you want.” Her face lit up. “However I want?” “Then I want you not to propose to your girlfriend, and I want you to be my boyfriend!” Ethan’s steps towards her halted, and his expression darkened completely. Chloe flinched under his gaze, and as if she’d done something wrong, she instinctively started to whine. “Not forever, how about just one year?” “Six months? A month?” “A week then? Just one week!” She started crying, leaning back a little further. “Ethan, you won’t even give me one week?” “If you still don’t agree, I’ll jump from here!” The moment she acted cute, Ethan’s expression softened considerably. Then, because of her next action, his eyes wide with panic, lunging to grab her, his voice trembling, he hastily agreed. “Okay, I’ll be your boyfriend! I’ll be your boyfriend!” Chloe’s eyes brightened, and she flew into Ethan’s arms. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. Ethan hesitated for a moment, then his hand slowly came up to her head, stroking her hair. Thud. I released my grip, and the ring dropped to the floor. Ethan, still holding Chloe, turned around. I stood in the narrow doorway. In his stunned gaze, I suddenly smiled. “I’m leaving.” My friend, Maya, rushed to my side, panicking, “Sarah, where are you going?” I touched her reddened eyes. “I’m going home.” “I’m his ex-girlfriend now.” “It’s not appropriate for me to stay here.” Ethan didn’t come back for a long time. I hadn’t expected him. “Why are you back?”

His voice was barely a whisper. “I came back to get a few things.” He added, “Chloe’s emotionally unstable, I went to stay with her.” Seeing I wouldn’t engage, he looked down and said helplessly, “Sarah, you saw it. I had no choice today.” My voice was absent from the room; only the sounds of my movements broke the silence. Ethan’s brow instantly furrowed. He leaned against the half-open closet, gripping my wrist. But all his anger seemed to dissipate when he saw that I was holding his clothes. “Just take a few items.” “You’ll be back in a few days, you don’t need so much.” I was calm. “Please move your things out as soon as possible. I’m selling this house.” The clothes, unclaimed, fell to the floor in a crumpled mess, softly, yet heavily. Ethan grabbed me, his words forced out between clenched teeth. “Sarah, what crazy talk is this?” “Didn’t I explain it to you? Teenagers are very sensitive. I was just humoring her, it didn’t mean anything!” I met his gaze, like he wanted to devour me. “Ethan, when we first got together, it was also on my eighteenth birthday.” He didn’t understand, or he didn’t want to. “So what? Was I supposed to let her die?” “Why are you being so dramatic?” I didn’t say another word. Ethan was busy fulfilling his promise. He and Chloe acted as if they needed to cram all their future together into those few days. I was busy packing and selling the house. Occasionally, I’d still receive photos of Ethan and Chloe from unknown numbers. I thought Ethan and I were done for good. But there are always surprises. The day the ‘for sale’ sign went up, I found out I was pregnant. It wasn’t a good day; the rain hadn’t fallen yet, and the air was heavy, and my heart felt just as suffocated. “I was injured before, I had an injection.” “I fell once that day. My lower abdomen hurt terribly then, but I didn’t think anything of it.” “Later, I cried a few times, and once, after crying, I bled. I thought it was just from being too emotional.” I looked at the doctor helplessly, my eyes wet with tears. My ability to speak seemed to regress; I spoke very, very slowly. The doctor sighed. “Try to relax for now. I’ve scheduled you for an examination tomorrow.” “We’ll see the baby’s condition then.” I don’t know how Ethan had found me. “Sarah, you actually sold the house?” Just looking at him made my whole body feel a wrenching pain. “Sarah, I’m talking to you!” The ultrasound report fell to the floor. Ethan saw it, then reread it, disbelieving. His voice trembled at the end. “Sarah, you’re pregnant?” “We’re having a baby?” As if desperately trying to compose himself, his hand reached out to touch me, then hesitated. “I’ll come back tonight to take care of you.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Aren’t you in a relationship?” His smile was forced. “Sarah, none of that was real.” “Besides, I promised her seven days, and today is already the sixth.” “Wait for me. Chloe’s here too; I’ll go clarify things with her right now.” Could he really make it clear? When Chloe rushed over with a knife and stabbed me in the stomach, I really wanted to ask Ethan. Her face was contorted. “I won’t let you take him from me! He’s mine! He’s mine!” “I’m telling you, we’ve done everything!” “You have a baby? I can have one too!” The wound was cold at first, then came a searing, gut-wrenching pain. Blood flowed ceaselessly. Ethan initially stood still. He’d listened to Chloe, who said she wanted to apologize to me alone. Until the knife’s blade reflected a dazzling light. The rain that had been brewing all day finally fell. The pouring rain diluted the puddles of blood, washing them everywhere. I watched Ethan scramble and stumble, more disheveled than I’d ever seen him, running towards me. I never imagined rain could make me tremble and shiver so much. My consciousness slowly blurred. I felt as if I had truly become the most insignificant thing in the world. “Sarah—” “Don’t you dare close your eyes! Look at me, please, just look at me!” Ethan screamed, heartbroken. Rain, tears, and blood mingled together. Ethan had just looked at me, full of conviction. “From now on, it’ll just be the three of us.” But Ethan, Look at us now. How can there be a “future” for us anymore?

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For five years, I kept my identity as the heiress to a powerful conglomerate a secret. I willingly gave up my privileged life to help Leonardo fight his way from nothing to the CEO of a multinational corporation. Full of joy, I took my prenatal scan to surprise him, only to see him kneeling through the crack in the door, kissing Tiffany’s slightly swollen belly. When he saw me, he showed no remorse. Instead, he coldly slammed an abortion consent form onto my face. “Tiffany has severe depression. She can’t stand to see anyone else pregnant. Go get the abortion tomorrow. Don’t make me angry.” I looked at the man I had poured everything into, and suddenly, I felt utterly disgusted. For a gold-digger, he wanted to kill my child. But he didn’t know. Everything he owned was merely a toy I had casually bestowed upon him. Since he had no shame, I would take back everything that was mine, with interest! “Mr. Leonardo, Miss Tiffany’s pregnancy is stable, but her emotions absolutely must not be stimulated.” I stood outside the CEO’s office, clutching the ultrasound report that read “Four Weeks Pregnant.” My knuckles were white from clenching so hard. The door wasn’t fully closed. Through that glaring gap, I saw my husband, Leonardo, who was usually so cold and imperious at the office, now kneeling on one knee in front of the leather sofa. He held a bowl of steaming, high-end nutritional broth, carefully blowing on it to cool it down, as tenderly as if he were handling a priceless treasure. Then, he slowly brought it to Tiffany’s lips. “Tiffany, come on, just a sip. For our baby, you need to eat something.” Tiffany was wearing an oversized men’s shirt, its collar slightly open, revealing suggestive red marks. She pushed Leonardo’s hand away with a whine, tears instantly welling up in her eyes, and said with a fragile, tearful look: “Leonardo, you spend every day with me like this. Won’t Aria be angry? After all… after all, she’s your legally married wife. What am I?” Leonardo scoffed, an undisguised look of disgust and disdain flashing across his handsome face. “Why even mention her? What a buzzkill. She’s just a dowdy housewife, always smelling of stale cooking.” “If it weren’t for her being so docile and responsible, like a free live-in maid who could take care of me, I never would have married her.” He put the bowl down and pulled Tiffany into his embrace with a pained expression, kissing her forehead. “You’re the only one in my heart, always have been. As soon as this baby is born, I’ll divorce her immediately and marry you. Everyone will know you’re my true wife.” I stood outside the door, my blood running cold as if drained from my body, shivering from head to toe. Five years. For him, I broke ties with my family, abandoned my esteemed status as the heiress of the Franklin Corporation, and lived anonymously. I endured countless hardships with him in this city. When he was starting his business, he couldn’t attract investors, and he stayed up all night smoking on the rooftop, desperate. It was me who secretly leveraged my grandfather Spencer’s connections, disguised as a mysterious investor, paving the way for him. He worked overtime until he had a stomach hemorrhage trying to rush a project. I never left his side at the hospital for half a month, neglecting myself entirely, preparing him various stomach-soothing broths until my own hair started falling out. I thought we were a couple who had been through thick and thin, with a love as strong as steel. But it turned out, in Leonardo’s eyes, I was just a doormat who practically paid to be his live-in maid. A mere stepping stone, to be kicked aside at any moment to make room for his precious first love. I took a deep breath and suddenly pushed the door open. With a loud “bang,” the heavy solid wood door slammed against the wall, startling the two people who were locked in an intimate embrace inside. Tiffany shrieked, shrinking into Leonardo’s arms like a startled rabbit. Leonardo’s face instantly changed. Seeing me standing at the door, his brows furrowed into a tight knot, his eyes full of the fury of someone whose secret pleasure had been interrupted. “Aria? What are you doing here? Who told you to come in without knocking! You have no manners!” He instinctively spread his arms to shield Tiffany behind him, as if I were some man-eating monster. I ignored his roaring noun and walked in step by step, staring intently at his face, which I had once been so infatuated with, and held up the ultrasound report. “I came to tell you I’m pregnant.” “But now it seems, I’ve come at a bad time. My apologies for interrupting, Mr. Leonardo.”

The office instantly fell into a deathly silence. Leonardo’s gaze fell on the report in my hand, his pupils sharply contracting. But there wasn’t a hint of joy on his face, only a flash of extreme irritation and disgust. Tiffany tugged at his sleeve, her eyes instantly red, tears streaming down her face, her voice trembling like leaves in the autumn wind. “Leonardo… Aria is pregnant too… What about our baby?” “I should just go. I don’t want to break up your family. I’ll just have the baby alone and raise it myself…” She made a move to stand up. Leonardo immediately pressed her back onto the sofa, his face contorted with distress, and quickly reached out to wipe her tears. “What nonsense! The child in your belly is my child, Leonardo’s! Who dares to make you leave! If anyone leaves, it’s her!” After comforting Tiffany, he turned his head and looked down at me, his eyes as cold as poisoned ice blades. “Aria, this child can’t stay.” I thought I misheard, my ears ringing. “What did you say?” Leonardo strode to the desk, pulled open a drawer, took out a pre-prepared abortion consent form, and slammed it down on the table. “I said, go to the hospital tomorrow and get the procedure done.” He pointed at the trembling Tiffany on the sofa, his tone self-righteous: “Tiffany developed a chronic illness after saving me back then. She has severe depression and can’t handle any stress.” “Given her current condition, she absolutely cannot see that you’re also pregnant.” “You’re strong, healthy as an ox. You can have children a couple of years later; it’ll be the same.” I stared at the man before me in disbelief, as if looking at a completely unfamiliar monster. To protect his mistress’s child, he wanted to kill his own flesh and blood? “Leonardo, are you insane! This is our child! The child we’ve longed for for five years!” “Yesterday, you were still touching my belly, saying that if it was a girl, you’d buy her all the best dresses in the world!” “Plans change!” Leonardo interrupted me impatiently, his voice dripping with arrogant condescension. “Aria, don’t be unreasonable. This might be Tiffany’s only chance to be a mother in her life. I must protect her.” “You’ve held my wife’s position for five whole years, enjoyed so much wealth and glory. You should be content.” “Now, for Tiffany, what’s wrong with you suffering a little inconvenience? Don’t look at me like I owe you millions!” I looked at his self-righteous face, my stomach churning, the disgust shooting right through me. “What if I refuse to go through with it?” I gritted my teeth, asking each word distinctly. Leonardo sneered, his eyes filled with overt threat and disdain. “Aria, don’t make me do this the hard way.” “You’re a housewife who hasn’t worked and has been out of touch with society for five years. What do you have to fight me with?” “Without me, you can’t even support yourself, let alone a child!” “Tomorrow morning at eight, I’ll have the driver pick you up for the hospital. Don’t force me to send people to drag you there.” “If things get too ugly, you’re the one who’ll be embarrassed!”

I didn’t cry, nor did I throw a dramatic tantrum like a shrew. Looking at Leonardo’s utterly selfish face, I only found it laughable. I, Aria, the sole heiress of the mighty Franklin Corporation, had wasted five years of my youth on a blind, ungrateful fool. “Alright, I understand.” I calmly put away the ultrasound report, not sparing them another glance, and turned to walk out of the office. Behind me, Tiffany’s sweet, deliberately provocative voice carried: “Leonardo, is Aria mad at me? Her eyes were so scary just now; will she get revenge on us…?” “Forget about that crazy woman.” Leonardo scoffed, his tone full of certainty. “She’s useless without me; she can’t survive. Just scare her a bit, and she’ll calm down. Tomorrow, she’ll definitely go to the hospital obediently.” Listening to Leonardo’s conceited mockery, a cold smile touched my lips. Can’t survive without you? Leonardo, you overestimate yourself. You think you stand at the pinnacle of this city, but you don’t realize that the entire empire beneath your feet belongs to my family, the Franklins. Stepping out of the Leonardo Group building, the sunlight outside made me squint slightly. I took a taxi directly to a top-tier private hospital with extreme privacy. I didn’t get an abortion. Instead, I had the chief physician personally perform the most comprehensive prenatal check-up on me. After confirming that the baby was perfectly healthy, merely a little unstable due to my emotional fluctuations, I walked to the hospital’s quiet VIP garden and dialed a number I hadn’t called in five years. The phone rang three times before it was answered. A voice, old but incomparably authoritative, came through, tinged with unconcealed excitement and trembling. “Aria? Is that you? Is it really you?” Hearing my grandfather Spencer’s voice, my feigned strength instantly crumbled. My eyes welled up, and I fought back tears. “Grandpa, it’s me. I was wrong.” “I shouldn’t have disobeyed you back then, insisting on marrying that animal, Leonardo.” There was a two-second silence on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh, and then the distinct thud of a cane hitting the ground. “Just come back! It’s good that you’re back! The Franklin family doors are always open for you.” “Did Leonardo hurt you? I knew that mean-looking boy couldn’t be trusted!” “Yes.” I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears, and my eyes became cold and sharp. “Grandpa, I want Leonardo to lose everything, to be utterly disgraced. I want him to kneel, begging for death but unable to find it.” “Good!” Grandpa’s voice was firm and powerful, carrying the authority of a superior. “Anyone who dares to bully my granddaughter, Spencer’s granddaughter, I’ll make their whole family pay! It’s time for a shake-up in Las Vegas!” “Mr. Harrison will contact you in ten minutes. Just tell him what you need to do.” “All of the Franklin family’s resources are at your disposal!” After hanging up, I felt the five-year-long burden on my heart finally lift. Leonardo thought I was a soft touch, easy to manipulate. He had no idea that sixty percent of the dark shares in his proudly built Leonardo Group were under my name, Aria’s! He was only able to sit securely in the CEO’s chair because I had been secretly controlling the capital behind the scenes. With just one word from me, his commercial empire would collapse tomorrow. But I didn’t want him to die too easily. I wanted to watch him bleed out slowly, to see everything he owned turn into smoke, making him experience true despair.

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I was suffering from a rare form of retrograde amnesia. Every morning I woke up, I’d forgotten everything that happened the day before. My husband, Christian, was my only memory anchor. Every day, he would patiently tell me, “You’re Price, 29 years old, my wife, and we’re very much in love.” Until I found a filled diary deep within the study. Flipping to the first page, it was my handwriting: “Don’t believe anything Christian says.” “Cowell isn’t his cousin, she’s his childhood sweetheart.” “You’re not sick; he’s the one who’s been poisoning you.” Today was the 1001st time I’d discovered the truth, and the first day I decided to play along. I opened my eyes that morning, my mind a complete blank. “Awake?” I turned my head and saw a man in a bathrobe sitting on the edge of the bed. “Who am I?” I asked, instinctively. The man smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “You’re Price, my wife. You’re sick; you forget everything from the day before.” He pointed to a photo frame on the nightstand. “That’s our wedding photo.” In the picture, I was in a wedding dress, leaning against him. But strangely, the photo’s edge had obvious creases. “Then who are you?” “Christian.” He held my hand, his fingertips warm. “Your only memory anchor.” I nodded, accepting the explanation. Christian helped me out of bed, squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, and even meticulously combed my hair. “What do you want to do today?” I looked at myself in the mirror. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.” “Then leave it to me.” Christian wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “We have a family doctor coming for a recheck this morning. This afternoon, I’ll take you for a walk in the garden, and tonight…” Before he could finish, the doorbell rang. Christian released me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “That must be Dr. Cowell.” I followed him downstairs. A woman in a white coat stood in the living room. She turned around, and her eyes clearly brightened when she saw Christian. “Christian, how is Price today?” Christian naturally walked over to Cowell, taking the medical bag from her hand. Their fingers brushed as they exchanged it, and neither pulled away. Cowell looked at me, a swift, appraising look flashing in her eyes. “Price, let’s measure your memory baseline today.” For the last question of the test, she pointed to Christian. “Who is he?” “My husband.” Cowell’s pen paused, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “Basic cognition is still present, but Christian, I still recommend increasing the dosage.” She finished packing her instruments. As she stood up, her fingers casually brushed the back of Christian’s hand. I sat on the sofa and watched Cowell stand on tiptoe at the door, whispering something in his ear. When he closed the door and returned, his face had resumed its programmed tenderness. “Price, what do you want for lunch today?” I stared into his eyes. “What did she tell you outside just now?” Christian froze for a moment. Then, a scrutinizing look flashed in his eyes. “Why are you asking that?” I lowered my head, twisting the hem of my shirt. “She comes every day. She’s so good to me.” “Dr. Cowell is just doing her job.” Christian pulled me into his embrace. The faint scent of cedarwood on him was the same as the scent on Cowell. “Price, you have to remember, in this world, I’m the only one who truly cares about you.” “Don’t believe anything anyone else says.” I nodded obediently, leaning against his chest, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Christian went to the office in the afternoon, and I was alone, sunbathing in the yard. Paul, the housekeeper, brought me fruit, looking at me as if he wanted to say something. “Mrs. Price, do you really not remember anything?” I shook my head blankly. “Christian says I’m sick.” Paul’s lips parted, and he ultimately sighed. “Then listen to Mr. Christian. He’s looking out for you.” As he turned to walk away, I heard him murmur. “Poor thing, she can’t even hold onto what her parents left her…” I was about to ask more, when the sound of a car engine reached the yard gate. Cowell arrived with her medical bag, an apologetic look on her face. “So sorry, Price, I forgot to give you your shot this morning. Just remembered and came right over.” With that, she took out a syringe. “This is a new nerve-boosting medication. Christian agreed to start you on it today.” I instinctively recoiled. But she grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Price, be good. It’s for your own good.” I struggled a bit, and she immediately frowned. “Don’t move around, or it’ll hurt.” The needle pierced my skin, and before long, I fell into a heavy sleep. I had a terrible dream. In the dream, I stood at the edge of a cliff. Christian and Cowell embraced. “Price, jump! Jumping will set you free!” I didn’t want to, I wanted to run away. But Christian blocked me, forcing me step by step to the very edge. “Price, once you’re dead, I’ll get all the shares!” With that, he suddenly shoved me off. “Ah!” I jolted awake, but no one was around. Through the greenhouse glass, I saw two people talking. I shook my groggy head and suddenly spoke. “Christian, are we really married?” Their conversation stopped abruptly. Christian turned his head, his eyes in that instant becoming terrifying. He walked towards me, step by step. “Why are you asking that?” His gaze made me tremble with fear. “I just found it strange. Why do we only have one wedding photo?” “Why is there no trace of my past anywhere in this house?” He gripped my hand, so hard my bones ached. “Because you’re sick, Price.” “When you have an episode, you destroy things – you tear up photos, smash furniture.” “To protect you, and to protect our memories, I’ve put everything away. Don’t you trust me?” He looked at me, his eyes flashing with pain. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you.” Christian’s expression softened, and he pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay. I know you’re sick. I’ll stay with you until you’re cured.” I leaned on his shoulder, my gaze drifting over it to Cowell, who still stood nearby. Perhaps due to the medication, I fell asleep exceptionally early that night. At 2 AM, I woke up, thirsty. I got out of bed, fumbled my way to the kitchen, and as I poured water, I noticed the light in the greenhouse was still on. On a strange impulse, I walked over. Through the glass, I saw Cowell sitting in a wicker chair, wearing a bathrobe. Christian stood behind her, leaning over to massage her shoulders. “Was today’s dosage too strong? She actually started to suspect things today.” His voice carried to me. Cowell tilted her head back, resting the back of her head against his stomach. “Suspicion is normal. That drug damages the memory region. Over time, people become paranoid and even develop persecution delusions.” She reached out and clasped Christian’s wrist. “Christian, are you getting soft?” “No.” He smiled, an expression of indifference I’d never seen before. “This is what she owes me. If she hadn’t forced me to marry her back then, I’d already be a corporate high-flyer!” Cowell laughed. “Just three more months, and her cognitive function will be permanently damaged.” “Then she’ll truly be sick, and no one will ever find out.” Christian laughed heartily. “Exactly. By then, I’ll have her parents’ fortune, and we can finally truly be together!”

I stood in the darkness, fragmented images suddenly surging forward. Christian crushing pills and putting them in my milk. Cowell holding a syringe, smiling gently and saying, “This is for your own good.” Back then, I had frantically written in my diary, “Don’t trust them.” So I really had kept a diary, really discovered the truth! But every day I woke up, I would forget. In the greenhouse, Cowell stood up, turned, and wrapped her arms around Christian’s waist. She buried her face in his chest. “These years, pretending to be your cousin has been so exhausting.” Christian gently stroked her back. “Just a little longer. The paperwork for the Howard family’s asset transfer will be done soon.” “You deliberately got close to her back then just for her parents’ inheritance, didn’t you?” “What else?” Christian laughed, his voice laced with mockery. “Who would truly love a fool stupid enough to be tricked every day?” I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate to escape, but my foot stepped on a dry twig. The lights in the greenhouse instantly went out. I ran back to the bedroom as fast as I could, scrambling under the covers, my heart pounding like it was about to burst. The door creaked open. Christian stood in the doorway, not turning on the light. He walked over and reached out, touching my forehead. “Price, where were you just now?” I forced myself to sound groggy, like I’d just been woken up. “What? I’ve been sleeping.” He didn’t speak. His fingers slid from my forehead down to my neck, stopping on a purplish bruise, pressing lightly. It hurt so much I almost cried out. “Had a nightmare? You’re sweating a lot.” I bit my lip. Christian leaned down, close to my ear. “Price, remember, you can go anywhere in this house, except the greenhouse in the backyard.” “It’s too damp there; it’s bad for your illness.” I nodded, not daring to make a sound. He smiled, satisfied, and tucked me in. “Sleep. Everything will be fine tomorrow when you wake up.” He left, the door not quite closed. I heard him tell Cowell in the hallway, “She might have found out. Move the plan forward!” Only when the hallway was completely quiet did I dare to open my eyes. Christian had said that the study held the things I tore up during my episodes. I remembered where the key was. I crept barefoot into the study. When I opened the door, a musty smell assailed me. Shredded photos, smashed ornaments, half-torn books — all piled in a corner. I saw the bottom shelf of the bookshelf. One book’s thickness seemed off. I pulled it out and opened it; the book was hollowed out. Inside was a leather notebook. I opened the first page, and it was my handwriting. “March 15th, Christian gave me a new medication today. I pretended to swallow it, then turned and spat it into the toilet.” “When Cowell came to check, I deliberately said my head hurt. The excitement in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.” “May 20th, our wedding anniversary. Christian gave me a necklace. That night, I found a transfer record to Cowell on his phone. How ironic.” I turned page after page. The diary recorded the time and place of their every secret meeting. The last page contained only one large line, written in red marker. “Price, escape! They will kill you!” My hands began to tremble violently. Bang! I heard the front door open downstairs. I hastily shoved the diary back into its place. I had just run back to the bedroom and lay down when the door was pushed open. Christian stood in the doorway. He turned on the light, holding a syringe, medicine dripping from its tip. He walked over, smiling. “Price, you went to the study, didn’t you?”

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming uncontrollably. “I checked the study door lock. There are new scratches on it.” Christian sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to caress my face. “Why aren’t you obedient?” I trembled with fear. “Christian, I really didn’t. I just went to the bathroom.” “Stop pretending.” He suddenly ripped off the covers, grabbed my ankle, and dragged me to the edge of the bed. “The mud on the bottom of your feet isn’t wiped clean. There are your footprints on the study floor.” My entire body went stiff, unable to speak. Christian raised the syringe, pushed it, and liquid sprayed from the needle’s tip. “I originally wanted to let you live for another three months, but you’re not behaving.” He smiled. “Tonight, it ends.” The moment the needle pierced my skin, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the chest. Christian hadn’t expected me to still have the strength to resist. He fell backward, and the syringe flew out of his hand. I rolled off the bed, scrambling towards the door. Before I could run two steps, he grabbed my hair from behind. “Do you think you can escape?” He dragged me back, slamming me onto the bed, his knee pressing down on my legs. The pain made my vision go black, but I gritted my teeth and forced out the words. “Christian, if you kill me, the police will find out!” “Find out?” He scoffed, glancing at me. “You have retrograde amnesia; everyone knows that.” “You forget everything every day. When you have an episode, you self-harm and attempt suicide.” “Tonight, you had an episode and injected yourself with an overdose of medication. What does that have to do with me?” He leaned down, close to my face. “Cowell will testify for me, saying your condition had already reached an uncontrollable level.” “Do you think anyone will suspect me?” Christian released my hair, getting up to pick up another spare syringe from the floor. In that split second, I fiercely pulled out the phone I had hidden under my pillow. The screen was lit, on a call, the number was 911. I held up the phone, my voice trembling. “Christian, you’ve been talking for three minutes. The operator heard everything.” He froze, his face instantly turning ashen. Outside the door, an urgent knocking suddenly sounded. “Open up, police!” Christian looked at me, then let out a cold laugh. “Price, when did you recover your memory?” I didn’t answer. I just clutched the phone, shouting with all my might towards the door. “Help me!” The door was crashed open. Two uniformed police officers rushed in, followed by someone holding a body camera. Christian took a step back, a smile quickly plastered on his face. “Officers, it’s all a misunderstanding. My wife is sick; she was having an episode just now.” The leading officer raised a hand to interrupt him. “Mr. Christian, we have recorded everything you just said.” “Now, please come with us.” Christian’s smile froze on his face. He turned to look at me, a cold smirk on his lips. The police handcuffed him and escorted him out. As he passed me, he suddenly stopped. He turned his head, and in a voice only I could hear, said. “Price, do you think this is over?” “Don’t forget, Cowell is still out there.” I suddenly looked up. At the end of the hallway, Cowell stood in the darkness, holding a scalpel. She smiled at me, then disappeared down the staircase. The police chased after her, but I heard a flurry of urgent footsteps downstairs. Then, everything fell silent. I collapsed onto the floor, trembling uncontrollably. My phone suddenly rang again. A text message came from an unknown number, just one line. “Price, we’re not done yet.”

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For three years, I was Ethan Vance’s secret lover and exclusive ghostwriter. By day, I was his most useless, decorative assistant, a target for ridicule; by night, I was the stand-in in his arms, desired and exploited, paving his way to the top with my talent. He always said my words had a special spark, that I was indispensable to him. Until his long-lost love, Serena Monroe, joined the company. He then shamelessly put her name on all my hard work, casually telling others, “She’s just a ghostwriter. Once Serena gets the hang of things, she can be let go.” He thought I’d grovel like a dog for scraps. But what he didn’t know was that I stayed by his side not for him, but for the top-tier resources he controlled. Now, my portfolio was glittering with success. Ethan Vance, I’m done being your stepping stone! “Mr. Davis, this ‘Starfall Project’ proposal is an absolute stroke of genius! Especially that core concept of reverse marketing, it’s simply brilliant! Whose masterpiece is this from your esteemed company?” In the spacious, bright top-floor conference room, Mr. Davis, the client, showered us with praise, excitedly pounding the table. I stood in the most inconspicuous corner of the room, my clicker tightly clutched in my hand. My palms were slick with cold sweat, but I forced myself to remain calm, my gaze instinctively drawn to the man seated at the head of the table – Ethan Vance. He was my direct supervisor, and my secret boyfriend of three years. This one-hundred-and-twenty-page proposal was the fruit of my grueling effort, having pulled seven all-nighters, researched thousands of competitor files, and even pushed myself to the point of stomach bleeding. Every single word, every chart, was steeped in my blood and sweat. I was fully convinced that this time, Ethan would finally keep his promise and give me the credit I deserved in front of the client. However, Ethan merely smiled, his handsome yet uncaring face beaming with triumph. His long fingers gently pointed to Serena Monroe, who sat beside him in a designer Chanel suit, her makeup meticulously applied. “Mr. Davis, you have a keen eye. This is Serena Monroe, our newly appointed Creative Director. She’s an Ivy League graduate with top honors, and she personally spearheaded this project.” Boom— Something exploded in my head. A ringing instantly drowned out everything around me. Serena Monroe? She’d only been with the company for less than three days! She hadn’t even grasped our company’s core business logic. All she did every day was sip afternoon tea and touch up her makeup in the office. She couldn’t even format a PowerPoint presentation! How dare she claim my hard work as her own? I stared hard at Ethan, trying to find a flicker of guilt or a hint in his eyes. But there was nothing. He didn’t even spare me a glance. Serena demurely lowered her head, perfectly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice sickly sweet: “Mr. Davis, you flatter me. It was just a fleeting inspiration. Mostly, it’s thanks to Ethan’s excellent leadership; he gave me so much inspiration.” “Hahahaha! What a talented couple, a powerhouse duo indeed!” Mr. Davis burst into laughter, then changed the subject. “However, Ms. Monroe, I have a question regarding the third phase of implementation. How did you derive that emotional resonance conversion rate estimation model?” The air in the conference room suddenly went silent for a second. Serena’s smile froze. She looked at Ethan for help, her eyes holding a look of pure, unadulterated cluelessness. How could she possibly know the derivation model? She didn’t even know what that phrase meant! Ethan’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then, under the table, he gently kicked my foot. He turned his head, glaring at me with extreme impatience, and in a low voice audible only to the three of us, he commanded, “Summer Reed, what are you spacing out for? Prompt her!” My heart, at that moment, utterly froze. Three years. Like a ghost hidden from the light, I hid in his shadow, ghostwriting countless viral campaigns for him, helping him climb from a regular supervisor all the way to a branch VP position. He always liked to hold me late at night, stroking my hair, saying, “Summer, your words have such a spark. Others only see my brilliance, but only I know you’re my soul. Once I secure my position, I’ll make sure you stand proudly in front of everyone.” I believed him. Like a fool, for that vague and ethereal promise, I willingly endured the cold shoulders from everyone in the company, content to be a “decorative assistant” who only served tea and water. But now, with his dream girl back, I didn’t even qualify as a shadow. I had become a mere prompter, to be discarded at any moment. I took a deep breath, forcing down the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. I walked behind Serena, bent down, and with extremely clear articulation, recited the complex derivation model word for word. Serena repeated it, stammering, like a parrot mimicking a machine. Mr. Davis, though still a bit confused, finally nodded in satisfaction and signed the contract worth tens of millions. After the meeting, the crowd dispersed. Ethan sat in his chair, loosening his tie, and casually tossed an envelope at my feet. “Good job today, didn’t mess up. Here’s your bonus.” I glanced down at the thin envelope. It contained at most five thousand dollars. The commission for this project was at least half a million. I bent down to pick up the envelope, a self-mocking cold smile playing on my lips. “Thank you, Mr. Vance.” Ethan stood up, looking down at me condescendingly. “Summer, I know you feel wronged. But Serena just returned to the country and needs some impressive achievements to establish herself. You’re just an associate degree holder. Even if your name was on it, the client wouldn’t take you seriously. Be sensible, and there’ll be plenty of benefits for you later.” “I understand,” I replied submissively, my voice so calm it even scared myself. “Good that you understand.” Ethan patted my cheek, satisfied. “Go book a Michelin-starred restaurant for Serena. I’m celebrating her success tonight.” I turned and walked out of the conference room. The moment I closed the door, I took out my phone and opened my banking app. Looking at the transfer that had just arrived in my account, I couldn’t help but smile. That was the last bit of money I’d secretly earned from freelancing and stock trading over the years. With those five thousand dollars, I had finally saved enough for my brother’s last surgery and completely paid off the usurious loans our family owed. Three years of shackles shattered into dust at that moment. Ethan Vance, did you really think I loved you so much I’d lost myself? You were wrong. I initially got into your bed, becoming your secret lover, solely for the top-tier project resources you controlled—resources I could quickly monetize. Now, my portfolio was thick enough to open doors at any top company in the industry. I owe you nothing. Just you wait, Ethan Vance.

The next morning, I walked into Ethan’s office as usual, carrying a warm black coffee. He was leaning back in his chair, chatting and laughing with Serena. Seeing me enter, Serena immediately wiped the smile from her face and put on the air of a superior director. “Assistant Reed, just put the coffee down,” Serena said imperiously. “Oh, by the way, I heard you have an idea bank on your computer, filled with creative drafts from over the years? Could you copy it for me? I’m a bit short on inspiration lately.” I sneered inwardly. That was my accumulated treasure trove of material from three years of day and night work, my core competitive advantage. She thinks she can just open her mouth and claim it? “Director Monroe, those are just rough drafts, completely disorganized. I’m afraid they’d offend your eyes,” I said, feigning apprehension, lowering my head. “Why are you talking so much nonsense?” Ethan tapped the table impatiently. “Serena asked you to copy it, so copy it. It’s your honor if your subpar stuff can give Serena some inspiration. Go quickly!” “Yes, Mr. Vance.” I obediently retreated. Back at my desk, I opened the folder named “Inspiration Bank” and transferred all core, valuable proposals to my encrypted cloud drive. Then, I downloaded hundreds of generic, free PowerPoint templates and cliché ad copy from the internet, bundled them into a folder, named it “Core Creative Library,” and sent it to Serena. Trying to get something for nothing? Dream on. That afternoon, while making tea in the pantry, I called my headhunter. “Hello, Mark? It’s Summer Reed. Yes, have you seen my portfolio? …Okay, Starwing Media? No problem, I can interview anytime.” Starwing Media, the undisputed industry leader, and Ethan’s company’s biggest rival. Hanging up the phone, I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. That evening was the company’s celebration banquet. The banquet hall buzzed with lights, laughter, and clinking glasses. Ethan, with Serena on his arm, moved among investors and major clients, elevating her to a pedestal. As the nominal “chief assistant,” I was relegated to the furthest table, crammed with a few interns. “Hey, look at Summer Reed, she looks so pathetic. She followed Mr. Vance for three years and couldn’t even get a title. Now that his official girlfriend is back, she’s completely out of the picture.” “Right? An associate degree holder, really thought she could become a Cinderella story. She only had some looks, good enough to warm Mr. Vance’s bed, that’s all.” The colleagues’ whispers stung like knives, but I just continued eating the food on my plate, expressionless. What were a few cold words? Compared to what I was about to do, this was just a warm-up. After a few rounds of drinks, a corpulent, greasy-faced Mr. Hayes, a key channel partner for the company and notoriously lecherous, swayed over with a drink in hand. “Well, well, isn’t this little Summer? Why are you hiding here drinking alone?” Mr. Hayes plopped down beside me, his greasy hand brazenly rested on my thigh, giving it a hard squeeze through the thin fabric. My body froze, my stomach churning with nausea. I shot up, backing away a couple of steps, and said coldly, “Mr. Hayes, you’re drunk. Show some respect.” “Don’t act so high and mighty!” Mr. Hayes, his pride wounded, grew angry. “Everyone knows you’re Ethan Vance’s cast-off! What, Ethan Vance gets to sleep with you, but I can’t even touch you? Spend a night with me tonight, and I’ll get you a big deal!” The commotion drew everyone’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing, watching me like a show. I looked at Ethan. He stood not far away, glass in hand, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a stranger. Not only did he not step in to stop it, but a smirk played on his lips, as if enjoying the spectacle. At that moment, my last illusion about him shattered completely. This was the man I had spent three years with. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a plaything to be used to appease clients. Just then, Serena Monroe sauntered over, swaying her hips. She daintily grabbed Mr. Hayes’s arm, cooing, “Oh, Mr. Hayes, why bother with an ignorant assistant? Come, Serena will toast you. Consider it an apology on her behalf.” Mr. Hayes’s attention immediately shifted to Serena, his eyes lecherously fixated on her cleavage. “Ms. Monroe is much more sensible. Fine, I’ll give Mr. Vance some face!” Serena turned, looking at me with a triumphant gaze, and falsely said, “Assistant Reed, aren’t you going to thank Mr. Hayes for his generosity? In the future, in the workplace, keep your eyes open and don’t always cause trouble.” I looked at the despicable pair and suddenly found it utterly comical. Without a word, I picked up a glass of red wine from the table and, to everyone’s stunned silence, splashed it directly onto Mr. Hayes’s greasy face with a loud “splash”! “Ah! You bitch!” Mr. Hayes shrieked, clutching his eyes and cursing. The entire hall fell silent. Ethan Vance’s face turned ashen. He rushed over, raising his hand to slap me. “Summer Reed! Have you lost your mind?!” I met his gaze without fear, and coldly uttered three words: “I was disgusted.” With that, I walked out of the banquet room without looking back, leaving the mess behind me entirely.

The next morning, I arrived at the company on time, wearing high heels and exquisite makeup. I didn’t report to Ethan’s office. Instead, I went straight to my desk, took out a cardboard box, and began packing my things. Just as I placed a few professional books into the box, Serena Monroe stormed over, absolutely furious. “Summer Reed! What garbage did you send me yesterday! All those messed-up templates and nonsensical copy—that’s your ‘creative library’?! You dared to mess with me!” Her sharp voice shattered the quiet of the office, and everyone peeked out to watch the show. I paused, slowly raised my head, looking at her with a half-smile. “Director Monroe, how can you call this messing with you? Aren’t you an Ivy League graduate with top honors? True creativity comes from the mind; those basic materials are just a foundation for a genius like you. Or… can you not even understand these simple things and have to rely on copying my original drafts to get work done?” “You!” Serena’s face flushed crimson as I struck a nerve. Her eyes suddenly darted around, and she spotted the black external hard drive on my desk, which I hadn’t unplugged yet. That was my personal hard drive, containing all my hard work from the past three years, including the preliminary outlines of several major, unreleased proposals. She lunged at it like a madwoman, ripping out the hard drive, clutching it tightly in her hand, her face twisted in a sneer. “Fine! If you won’t give it to me, I’ll destroy it! I’ll make sure you get nothing either!” With that, she turned and ran towards the water dispenser, threatening to throw the hard drive into the boiling water. “Serena Monroe! How dare you!” I was utterly enraged. I charged forward, grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked hard. “Ah!” Serena let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her hand loosened, and the hard drive dropped onto the carpet. I kicked the hard drive behind me and then delivered a resounding slap across her face. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the office. Serena clutched her face, looking at me in disbelief, tears instantly welling in her eyes. “Summer Reed! What are you doing!” A furious roar came from behind me. Ethan Vance strode over, charging forward, and roughly shoved me away. His force was immense. I was completely unprepared and crashed heavily into the corner of a nearby desk. An excruciating pain shot through my lower back, and I groaned, falling to the floor. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He lovingly embraced Serena, carefully checking the red mark on her face. “Serena, are you okay? Does it hurt?” Serena leaned into Ethan’s chest, crying her heart out, tears streaming down her face, and pointed at me, accusing, “Ethan, I just wanted to borrow some files from Assistant Reed’s hard drive to look at. Not only did she refuse, but she called me useless and even hit me… I’m so scared…” Ethan suddenly turned his head, his eyes like knives, glaring at me. “Summer Reed! You’ve gone completely out of control! Serena is your superior; how dare you lay a hand on her? Apologize to Serena immediately! Otherwise, I’ll have HR fire you right now!” I leaned on the table corner, struggling to stand. The pain in my lower back made me break into a cold sweat, but my spine was ramrod straight. I looked at the man I had once loved, hated, and now only felt disgust for, and suddenly I laughed. A laugh that was incredibly relieved, incredibly defiant. “Fire me? Ethan Vance, you’ve got it wrong.” I walked to my desk, picked up the already packed cardboard box, and slammed the pre-printed resignation letter onto his face. “It’s me who’s firing you.” Ethan was stunned by the resignation letter. Then, his face twisted into an expression of extreme contempt and mockery. “Resign? Summer Reed, have you lost your mind? What do you think you are without me? A useless associate degree holder, what else can you do besides writing a few cringeworthy copies? Believe it or not, the moment you walk out that door, no company in this industry will dare hire you!” “Within three days, you’ll be crawling back on your knees, begging me to take you back!” I looked at his arrogant and smug face and felt only sadness. “Ethan Vance, remember what you said today. I hope our paths never cross again.” Clutching the cardboard box, I walked out of the company doors without looking back, ignoring all the shocked, scornful, and mocking gazes. The sunlight outside was blinding, but I felt a warmth and freedom I had never experienced before. Begging you in three days? Sorry, but I already have an offer for Creative Director at Starwing Media.

Starwing Media, located in the core area of the city’s most bustling Central Business District. When I stepped into the top floor of the building, I was greeted by Starwing’s CEO, Liam Kincaid. He wore a impeccably tailored dark grey bespoke suit. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were deep and sharp, exuding the calm composure and intimidating presence of someone at the top. Unlike Ethan Vance’s superficiality, built on stolen achievements, Liam Kincaid was a true industry titan—decisive, with keen insight. “Summer Reed?” He flipped through my portfolio, his long fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk. “This ‘Starfall Project’—the industry credits Serena Monroe for it, but after reviewing the underlying logic and writing style, it’s identical to the other cases in this portfolio. You wrote it, didn’t you?” My heart skipped a beat, then I nodded candidly. “Yes.” Liam Kincaid closed the folder, a hint of admiration playing on his lips. “Ethan Vance is truly a fool, treating a raw talent as a mere stepping stone. Welcome to Starwing, Director Reed. Here, we only value ability, not background.” “Thank you, Mr. Kincaid.” I took a deep breath, feeling my blood stir with excitement. Life at Starwing was incredibly busy but immensely fulfilling. Without menial tasks and endless emotional manipulation, I could finally dedicate all my energy to the creative work I loved. Liam Kincaid gave me immense authority and trust. Leading my new team, we brainstormed day and night, tearing things down and rebuilding, then tearing down and rebuilding again. In just one month, the “Project Lumina” full-case marketing campaign I spearheaded became an overnight sensation. Not only did it secure Starwing its biggest S-tier client of the year, but it also shattered industry conversion rate records. My name, “Summer Reed,” appeared prominently on the front pages of major industry media for the first time. No longer someone’s assistant, no longer someone’s shadow, I was Starwing Media’s Star Creative Director! Meanwhile, Ethan Vance’s life was going downhill. Without me, his ghostwriter, the quality of his company’s creative output plummeted. Serena Monroe, that incompetent woman, couldn’t hold up the facade at all. Her cobbled-together proposals were torn apart by clients. I heard that in just two months, Ethan had lost three major clients. His company’s performance was cut in half, and the board of directors put immense pressure on him. He finally panicked. He started frantically calling and SnapChatting me. “Summer, have you thrown enough of a tantrum? Come back, your position is still waiting for you.” “Summer, Serena really is incompetent, I admit I was wrong. As long as you come back, I’ll promote you to Associate Director immediately!” “Summer Reed! Don’t push your luck! Do you think Starwing really values you? They’re just using you to get at me!” Looking at those messages on my screen, which ranged from patronizing offers to desperate fury, I found it utterly ridiculous. I immediately blocked his number and turned my attention to preparing for the next, even bigger project.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “418483”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I grew up pampered, always held in the palm of my family’s hand. On the first day of college, my bodyguards carried two suitcases into my dorm room. I stood at the doorway, glanced around, and said: “Keep the AC on 24/7, I’ll cover the electricity bill.” “I’m a light sleeper, so no noise after 11 PM.” “Wipe down the bathroom every time you use it, I’m a germaphobe.” “I can’t do heavy lifting. I’ll pay you $100 to pick up my packages.” My three roommates exchanged confused glances. I looked at them and added: “No offense, it’s just my first time living in a dorm, so I’m laying out the rules upfront to avoid any drama later.” Then I pulled out the welcome gifts I’d prepared: a Chanel bag for each of them. “Thanks for your understanding.” Their eyes lit up, and they exclaimed, “From now on, you’re our Lady Boss!” But then, one girl named Sophia Miller started acting up. She told people behind my back that my gifts were charity, that I looked down on her. “She thinks a little money and a few designer items can make me her slave. I might be poor, but I have pride!” Even more absurdly, my fiancé, Ethan Hayes, flew all the way back from abroad just to defend her. “Evie, can’t you dial it back a little? Sophia doesn’t come from money, how can she pay you back for such expensive gifts?” “Can you please change your arrogant attitude? Stop acting like the whole world revolves around you.” I watched him standing protectively in front of Sophia, and suddenly, I smiled. If you all think I’m a bully, then I’ll show you what a real heiress can do.

My family is well-off, and my friends always tease me, calling me an “heiress.” It’s not entirely a joke, though. After all, I have the backing of a century-old, top-tier prominent family. So when I stood at the door, seeing a dorm room smaller than my own bathroom back home, meant to house four people, my head was spinning. I only stepped inside after a bodyguard had made my bed. My three roommates were standing by, openly scrutinizing me. Their faces showed undisguised exasperation. I glanced at the line of bodyguards by the dorm door and the mountain of luggage taking up half the room. Okay, maybe it was a bit much. I sat on my freshly made bed and smiled as I greeted my new roommates. “Hi everyone, I’m Evelyn Reed. I’m from a prominent family in Los Angeles. We’ll be roommates for the next four years.” “I’ve never lived in a dorm before, so I have a few requests.” “First, the dorm AC should be set to 77°F all day. I’ll cover the electricity.” “Second, I’m a light sleeper, so no noise in the dorm after eleven o’clock.” The three of them looked awkward, their gaze screaming “high-maintenance.” I waved my hand, and a bodyguard brought in three large boxes. “These are gifts from Miss Reed for everyone.” The three girls opened the boxes and stared blankly for a long moment. Full skincare sets, Apple laptops, Chanel handbags. My demands were quite specific, so it was only right to prepare some gifts for them. It’s also a standard move in my circles. What money can buy is often far more cost-effective than owing someone a favor. “I don’t mean anything by saying all this, just want to be clear upfront to avoid any misunderstandings later.” Chloe Davis, a girl with a big personality, quickly accepted my terms. “Oh my God, I thought we were getting a princess, but we got a real princess!” “You’re so generous, I’m almost embarrassed.” I smiled. “Also, I don’t do chores or clean. I’ll pay $500 for cleaning and $100 for picking up a package.” I thought for a moment and continued: “If you’re not willing, I can always ask the dorm next door…” Chloe immediately jumped up, pulling Mia Brown, who was next to her, to her feet. “I’m willing! Of course, we insiders should be the first to interview for serving our Lady Boss!” Mia’s gaze was even more determined than my bodyguard’s. “Lady Boss, I actually know a bit of self-defense. I’ll be your protector on campus from now on!” As everyone slowly warmed up, Sophia Miller, who had been sitting in the corner, tightly clutched her gift bag, biting her lower lip. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, assuming she was just slow to warm up and a bit shy. Little did I know, this person would bring unexpected trouble and ‘surprises’ to my college life.

When did I first realize something was wrong? Girls from the next dorm room would see me in the hallway and, instead of smiling and greeting me as before, would pretend not to see me. In class, everyone except my two roommates kept their distance. I thought I was being sensitive. After all, the places I’d lived growing up had such tight security that I rarely saw neighbors. So I had no frame of reference for this kind of “cold” environment. Until one day, Chloe couldn’t hold it in anymore. I walked out of the shower, drying my hair with a towel, when Chloe suddenly pushed open the door and sat on my bed, her face looking odd. “Evie, have you heard?” “Heard what?” She hesitated, then pulled out her phone and opened a SnapChat group. Scrolling up through the chat history, a girl named Sarah Johnson had posted three messages in a row. “You guys know Evelyn Reed from Class 4? The way she showed up on the first day, bodyguards and all, really thinks she’s a princess.” “She gave her roommates skincare, but the condition was for them to be her servants. $500 for cleaning, $100 for packages. Isn’t that just using money to humiliate people?” “Sophia from the next dorm told us. She said receiving the gift made her feel awful, like she was being humiliated, but she didn’t dare refuse it because she was afraid of offending Evelyn.” After reading those, I admit, I was definitely annoyed. The replies below had already reached almost a hundred comments. Some cursed me for being a nouveau riche, others said I was a rich person with no class. Someone even passive-aggressively sent a string of candle emojis, saying: “Poor Sophia, stuck in a dorm with someone like that.” I handed the phone back to Chloe. “Sophia said all this?” “The chat logs say it was her, but Sophia’s still acting innocent in the group!” Chloe was furious. I scrolled down further. Sophia had posted, feigning distress: “I didn’t mean for everyone to know, I just complained a bit privately to Sarah. Please don’t attack Evelyn, let’s not cause her any trouble.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Pfft! ‘Privately complained’ and it spread across three classes?” I didn’t say anything. Chloe thought I was angry and added: “Evie, don’t worry about it. These types are just jealous of others’ success. If you want to deal with her, I’ll help you!” I shook my head. “No need. It’s too minor to bother with.” The next morning, on my way to class, I deliberately walked past Sophia’s seat. She was looking down, flipping through a book. I didn’t say anything, just sat in the empty seat next to her. She stiffened. The few girls sitting nearby also looked up and glanced at me. I opened my phone, pulled up that screenshot, and pushed it toward her. “Explain this.” Sophia glanced at the screen, quickly pushed the phone back, and whispered: “I… I just felt a bit uncomfortable, so I complained a few times, it was all just a joke…” I took my phone back and leaned against the chair. “You accepted my skincare, Apple laptop, and Chanel bag, then turned around and told people behind my back that it was charity, that I was using money to humiliate you?” Her eyes quickly reddened. The students around us were already looking our way. Sophia suddenly raised her hand to cover her face, her shoulders trembling, her voice tearful: “Evelyn Reed, what did I ever do to offend you? Why do you have to corner me like this?” She sniffed, then looked up, her eyes showing a mix of grievance and defiance. “You gave me such expensive things. I know you’re rich, but you know my family’s situation, how can I ever pay you back?” “I didn’t even dare use them. They’re just sitting in my closet, and looking at them every day terrifies me. What’s wrong with me complaining a bit to Sarah? Am I not allowed to have feelings?” I sat there silently, watching her performance. Sophia simply stood up, her chair scraping loudly across the floor. “Yes, I’m poor, so I should be eternally grateful for your gifts?” “But who are you to condescendingly decide the nature of our relationship? You humiliated my pride with your money, am I not allowed to feel uncomfortable?” After she finished speaking, her tears fell even harder. The students nearby started whispering to each other. “Evelyn Reed, don’t be too much. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you can bully your classmates!” My voice was flat. “Sophia, done crying?” Her sobs paused. “First, if you felt the gifts were too expensive and you were uneasy accepting them, then bring them back to me tomorrow.” “Second, you think I’m using money to make you a servant, but why didn’t you feel humiliated when you accepted the money for chores?” She opened her mouth, tears still streaming, but couldn’t say anything. I stood up and adjusted my jacket. “I have the SnapChat screenshots saved. I advise you not to push it.” I scanned the surrounding students who were watching. “I don’t care if they believe you, but next time, I won’t be so easy to deal with.” After my warning, she and those in the group chat were quiet for two days. But a week later, I received a FaceTime call from my fiancé, Ethan Hayes.

Ethan is my fiancé. Our families have been close for generations. When we were ten, our parents had dinner together and basically decided our future on the spot. If you scroll up our SnapChat history, the last message before this was “Happy New Year” from months ago. “Evie, is Sophia your roommate?” “You know her?” “She’s a scholarship student my family has sponsored since high school. She called me crying for a long time a few days ago.” I picked at my nail, casually asking: “And?” “She said you gave her very expensive things, and she didn’t dare refuse for fear of being isolated. Later, she mentioned in the dorm that she felt a lot of pressure, and then you gave her a hard time in class.” Ethan sighed, his tone reproachful: “Evie, her family isn’t well-off. Those things are a burden to her. Can you just tone it down a bit? Just interact normally, don’t make such a show.” “I’m telling you this for your own good. Your personality makes it too easy to offend people.” I pretty much understood. Sophia dared to spread rumors behind my back because she had someone backing her up. But she got one thing wrong. Ethan Hayes, he wasn’t in a position to lecture me. I found it amusing. “Ethan, you should know, if I truly wanted to target someone, she wouldn’t even be able to get into Los Angeles.” Ethan was choked up. He was about to speak, but I hung up the phone. Someone who hadn’t bothered to send a holiday greeting in ten years was calling me from overseas just to lecture me over a scholarship student. I tossed my phone onto the table. Chloe leaned over, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Evie, who was that?” “An arrogant idiot.” The next afternoon, Ethan was leaning against his car by the school gate. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his features carrying the cultivated air of someone accustomed to luxury. Sophia stood beside him, head bowed, eyes red, looking utterly aggrieved. As I walked out of the school gate, Ethan stepped forward and blocked my path. “Evie, let’s talk.” I glanced at the curious stares around us and simply hummed in agreement. In the cafe next to the school, Sophia sat beside Ethan. She kept her eyes downcast, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. Ethan got straight to the point: “Evie, what I said on the phone yesterday might not have been clear enough, so I’m telling you face-to-face today.” “Sophia hasn’t had it easy. She fought tooth and nail to get into this university. Whether it’s those gifts or the way you speak, it’s all pressure for her.” I leaned back in my chair, took a sip of my lemon water, and remained silent. Seeing no response from me, Ethan’s brow furrowed even deeper. “You grew up pampered by your family, so you can’t understand the struggles of ordinary people. But since you’re my fiancée, I hope you can show some empathy.” “Sophia has cried to me several times, saying she’s afraid to speak or move in the dorm, terrified of upsetting you again.” Sophia looked up, her voice trembling: “Ethan, please don’t say anymore. Evie wasn’t targeting me. I’m just too sensitive, it’s my fault…” As she spoke, tears welled up again, but she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve, her face still defiant. Ethan’s expression darkened even further. When he turned to me, his voice held anger: “Evie, look at what you’ve driven her to! Can’t you just apologize to her?” I finally put down my cup and looked at Ethan seriously. “Ethan, how old are you this year?” He paused. “What?” “Twenty-five, right?” I chuckled softly. “A twenty-five-year-old man, swayed by a young girl’s few soft words, flying all the way from abroad to stand up for her. Don’t you find that ridiculous?” Ethan’s face darkened. “Evelyn Reed, what is your attitude?” I tilted my head, my gaze sweeping past him to Sophia. “Sophia, I’m asking you one last time: did I bully or humiliate you?” My voice was calm. Sophia bit her lip. “You… you gave them in front of the whole dorm. I didn’t dare refuse…” I scoffed. “You didn’t dare refuse, but then you turned around and told everyone I was giving you charity and humiliating you?” “Fine. If you didn’t dare refuse, then give the items back to me. Go get them now, I’ll wait.” Sophia’s face turned pale. “What? You don’t want to give them back?” I tilted my head, looking at her. “Or have you already opened and used that skincare set? Did you boot up the Apple laptop? Did you swatch the lipstick kit?” Sophia’s tears welled up again. She turned to Ethan, her voice tearful: “Ethan, I didn’t… I didn’t open them. I didn’t even touch the packaging…” Ethan reached out and patted her shoulder, then turned and glared at me. “Evelyn Reed, that’s enough! How much is a skincare set? Do you really have to be so aggressive?” “Sophia’s from a less fortunate background, what’s wrong with her being a bit sensitive? Can’t you be more magnanimous and understanding?” His words made me laugh, and my eyes turned cold. “Ethan, I used real money to buy harmony in the dorm, to ensure four years of peace for four people. Am I in the wrong for that?” Ethan took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “Evie, no matter what, your condescending attitude is truly problematic. You’ve always been…” “My childhood pampering is a privilege my family affords me. I don’t owe her anything.” Ethan suddenly stood up. “Evelyn Reed! Don’t be too much! I came here with good intentions to mediate, and you’re making it so awkward?” “Sophia is just a girl. Can your conscience really be clear after humiliating her in front of so many people?” Sophia tugged on his sleeve, sobbing softly: “Ethan, it’s okay, let’s just go. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have told you…” Ethan glared at me, his chest heaving several times, then suddenly picked up the coffee in front of him and splashed it on me. “Evelyn Reed, I’ll make you beg Sophia for forgiveness.” I was stunned for a few seconds by the coffee splash. When I looked up at them, Sophia’s eyes held undisguised triumph. Coming back to my senses, I blinked hard, letting my eyes redden. Then I took out my phone, snapped a selfie, and sent it to the family group chat with a tearful voice message. “Daddy, Ethan hit me because of a scholarship student! My eyes are all swollen from crying~” Ethan still scoffed from across the table. “Our families go way back! Do you really think selling a sob story will get me punished? You really think you’re a princess!” Three. Two. One. The urgent screech of tires came from outside, followed by the sound of the door being violently pushed open. “Who’s tired of living, daring to lay a hand on my darling?!”

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At my eighteenth wedding rite with my fiance, everyone was taken away by my adopted sister again. When the temple herald came hurrying over, his voice was anxious and edged with impatience. “Lyra’s stomach illness has flared up again. The king and queen have gone with her to Apollo’s temple for treatment. Handle the wedding yourself. It has been canceled so many times anyway. You have experience.” Lina, the beloved songstress of the Muse temple and the closest friend I had grown up with, clicked her tongue. “Can your wedding vows possibly matter more than Lyra’s pain? She almost fainted from it, and you still expect us to stay here? When did you become so cruel?” As for my fiance, Phaethon, the youngest chariot commander under Ares, he did not even send anyone to explain in person. He only had an attendant deliver a word. [The wedding is postponed. Another time.] Another time. I repeated those words over and over in my heart. He had dismissed me with those words eighteen times. A laugh tugged at the corner of my mouth. Suddenly, all of it felt utterly pointless. “Moirai.” “Cut every thread of fate between me and them.” A familiar voice came from the depths of the temple, like a spindle turning, like the Fates whispering. “As you command. Cleione, daughter of fate, every character’s bond to your golden thread has been severed.” “In three days, they will lose everything they possess because of you.” “Including their lives.” — Watching the three-day countdown appear on the Loom of Fate, I took the bronze staff the priest handed me and walked up to the wedding altar covered in violets. My wedding, and yet the altar was filled with Lyra’s favorite flowers. How laughable. “My apologies, everyone. Today’s wedding rite is canceled.” The nobles and priests below exchanged glances. No one asked a single question. “I knew it would be canceled. After all these years, not one of her weddings, big or small, has ever gone through. If I were the elder princess of this kingdom, I wouldn’t even show my face.” “The whole royal family dotes on the younger one. If it were me, why would I keep fighting my own sister? I would just give him to her. At least then I wouldn’t be a laughingstock across the entire city-state, and I might even earn a reputation for generosity.” “What do you know? The elder princess is no ordinary woman. Whenever Phaethon rejects her, the Phaethon family’s warships sink the next day, and their armories catch fire. After losing several cities testing it, he finally settled down and agreed to marry her.” I left under everyone’s pitying stares. As I listened to their whispers, the curve of my mouth turned sharp with irony. This time, it would not be as simple as a few sunken warships. After changing out of my ceremonial robes and returning to the palace, I meant to gather a few things and leave. But just as I reached the door, I ran straight into a group of people returning with Lyra at their center, talking and laughing around her. The moment they saw me, every smile vanished. Anger rose in Phaethon’s eyes, and his voice carried open blame. “Cleione, why didn’t you explain properly when you canceled the wedding? If you don’t make things clear, that’s your fault. Now everyone will start suspecting it was because of Lyra again.” My father, the king, curled his lip and ordered, “Cleione, you handled this badly. We never had to worry about temple announcements for the previous cancellations. This time you have disappointed me. Go swear before the city-state at once and say it was your own willful behavior that offended Hera.” Lina immediately took out a speaking stone engraved with the mark of the Muses. “I’ll have the bards and gate scribes spread the word right away. There is still time for Cleione to admit fault. Then we can have people in the market curse her a little more, and no one will speculate about Lyra.” Faced with their accusations, I said nothing. I only looked silently at the threads of fate before me, visible to no one but me. Two days left. Then they would be finished. “Cleione, why are you standing there in a daze?” Phaethon walked up to me, his voice thick with impatience. “Let me tell you, if you don’t fix this properly, I can’t promise when the next wedding rite will be.” Lyra finally spoke, soft and fragile. “It’s all my fault. I delayed Brother Phaethon’s and Sister’s wedding. I ruined everything.” “There are still auspicious days at Hera’s temple this month. Please don’t postpone it again…” Before she could finish, she began coughing. Phaethon rushed over at once and rubbed her back. “This isn’t your fault. Don’t overthink it. Your sister will never be able to leave me in this lifetime. It makes no difference when we marry.” “Then you’ve overestimated yourself.” At last, I spoke my first words in a cold voice. Several faces froze. I lifted the bundle in my hand. “I’m leaving.” The words had barely fallen when, in the next second, a sharp slap rang through the entire palace hall.

My head tilted to one side. I gave a self-mocking smile. My mother’s hand was still trembling with anger. “You still dare to make a scene? We spoiled you too much all these years. How did such a perfectly good child become so willful and domineering?” “And you want to leave? Leave for where? Are you trying to stir up gossip across the city and make everyone think we favor one child and mistreat you? Cleione, when will you learn to be sensible? How did I give birth to a child like you? You can’t compare to even half of Lyra!” The taste of blood spread through my mouth. I licked the corner of my lips. Yes. In the past, every time, I would make a scene. Because I could not understand. I could not understand why, when Lyra had clearly broken the sacred cup Father brought back from Delphi, they insisted I had smashed it. I could not understand why, even with the temple’s water mirror recording everything, they refused to believe I had not pushed Lyra down the white stone steps. Even the flowers I offered to Aphrodite, which triggered Lyra’s allergy, became proof that I had deliberately bullied her. This was not the first time Mother had struck me. The last time was only two days ago. Lyra wanted to wear my wedding robe, and I refused. Then she suddenly fainted. Mother came up and shoved me, then used ceremonial shears to cut apart the white gauze robe I had waited half a year for. Because of Lyra, my own mother and I had nearly become enemies. So I made scenes. I wanted everyone to judge who was right. But this time, I truly had not made a scene. I was the only daughter of fate in this world. Only those connected to me could receive the blessing of the golden thread granted by the three Fates. On the second day after my parents gave birth to me, the Shen royal family, whose treasury had been empty and whose kingdom stood on the verge of collapse, suddenly discovered an entire gold mine beneath the sea and became the wealthiest city-state in the Aegean. Even Father’s liver disease, which Apollo’s priests had declared incurable, healed by some miracle. Because Lina had been my friend since childhood, the old scar on her face gradually disappeared, her voice grew clearer and brighter, and she eventually became the most dazzling songstress in the Muse temple. Even kings were willing to offer gold for the sound of her lyre. As for Phaethon. He had once been nothing more than a petty merchant in the market, selling fake bronze wares. He was chased by city guards and beaten by his rivals. Then he saved me when I got lost in the night market, and I fell in love with him at first sight. From then on, he built his own fleet and army. His business prospered, his battles never failed, and at last he became the most valued chariot commander under Ares. For more than twenty years, they held me like a treasure in their palms. Phaethon, especially, cherished me as if I were the apple of his eye. They also gained everything they wanted because of me. But later, Lyra was brought back to the palace. And everyone changed. Father ordered in a heavy voice, “Someone, take away all her things. She is not to carry a single item from the palace.” “Cleione, if you want to leave, fine. But this time, no one will come coaxing you back. Once you leave, we will hold a city assembly before Athena’s temple and sever our parent-child ties with you. From then on, you will no longer be our daughter.” They did not even let me take one piece of clothing before they pushed me out the door. Phaethon sighed and quietly handed me the key seal to a small shrine-house. “You can stay in this cottage. Cleione, we’re truly tired. We don’t want to keep indulging your tantrums.” “How good it would have been if the person I saved back then had been Lyra.” I gave a cold scoff. “You can marry her now.” Phaethon sighed helplessly. “There you go again. Cleione, you know I swore before Hera that I would marry you, and I will not break my word.” “Lyra is a pure, kind girl. I won’t allow you to toss her around in your mouth like some object. Don’t let me hear you say that again.” He turned and walked up the steps. I threw the key seal onto the ground and was about to leave. Lyra suddenly rushed over and grabbed my sleeve. “Sister, don’t go. I shouldn’t have longed for warmth that doesn’t belong to me. I’m not worthy.” “Don’t leave. I should be the one to go. I’ll leave the palace right now…” I knew exactly what Lyra was planning. So I simply stood there and let her clutch me while she pretended to cry. But when she saw that I did not push her away as I used to, she immediately began struggling for breath and fainted at my feet. “Lyra!” “Call Apollo’s priest! Lyra, my daughter!” Everyone rushed over in panic and surrounded her. Phaethon’s eyes were vicious as he seized me by the throat. “Cleione, you still dare lay a hand on Lyra? Do you think I truly can’t bear to hurt you?” So this was what it felt like to laugh when words failed you. I had not even bothered to touch her, and somehow it had still become me attacking her. “Phaethon, I hope none of you regret this later.” “Guards!” Father roared, pointing at me. “Lock her in the underground shrine room and punish her according to family law!”

The underground shrine room was damp and dim. This was the second time I had been locked inside. The first time was still fresh in my memory. It was because I discovered Lyra sneaking into Phaethon’s bedchamber in the middle of the night. I lost my temper on the spot and caught her red-handed on Phaethon’s couch. But in the end, she sobbed that old trauma had made her sleepwalk. She had no idea why she had entered Phaethon’s chamber. She only felt safe there. She had not done it on purpose. My parents and Phaethon believed that explanation without question. Phaethon even told her gently that if she was frightened, she could come to him anytime. Back then, my love for Phaethon was at its deepest. I would not even allow female attendants near him. Other than low-ranking servants, there could not be a single young woman in the entire commander’s residence. So I slapped Lyra across the face, and my parents locked me in this underground shrine room. For seven whole days, they gave me only one bowl of thin porridge a day. Only after I was starved into a daze and agreed to apologize to Lyra did they let me out. This time, however, they clearly did not intend to merely starve me for a few days. When Father came in carrying a cane soaked in pepper wine, Phaethon came with him. “According to royal family law, you should receive thirty lashes. But Lyra felt sorry for you and knelt to beg me to replace the whip with a cane. Since a cane is less forceful than a leather whip, you will receive fifty strokes.” Crack. The cane struck my body, and a red welt rose at once. Father struck me more than a dozen times. The swollen marks gradually split open. Every blow after that carried a numbing, burning agony. I thought of what they had said, that Lyra had begged for the cane. It must have been soaked in pepper wine. “Apologize to your sister!” “Will you apologize or not?” Father could not get the answer he wanted, so his anger only grew. After fifty strokes, my entire back and both arms were covered in wounds. Each gash gaped open, flesh turned outward, thin lines of blood sliding down my spine onto the floor. Pain had numbed my whole body. I curled into the corner, gasping for breath. After Father finished beating me, he threw down the cane and left. Before he went, he left one sentence behind. “Stubborn to the end.” Phaethon walked over and crouched in front of me. “Lyra prepared medicine and clothing for you. Cleione, Lyra has always treated you with respect and courtesy. As her elder sister, and as her brother-in-law, we should both take better care of her. Why must you be so petty and filthy-minded?” “Once you’ve thought it through, hurry up and apologize. Stop making us angry.” He shook out the clothes Lyra had prepared for me. Then, with what he thought was care, he laid them over my back. The instant the fabric touched my body full of wounds, it felt as though I had fallen into salt water. I curled up from the pain. “So delicate.” Phaethon curled his lip and stood. “Lyra turns pale from pain every time she falls ill, and even she doesn’t exaggerate like this.” He left. It took me a long time to catch my breath. “Moirai…” The voice of the Loom of Fate rang beside my ear. “Daughter of fate, would you like to activate pain shielding?” “No.” I gritted my teeth. “I want to speed up the severing of the fate threads.” “Very well. Acceleration has begun. At noon tomorrow, everyone connected to you and blessed by you will suffer the backlash.”

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My eighteenth bonding ceremony with Kael Frost was canceled—again—because of my adopted sister. Mother opened a mind-link, her voice flooding into my head laced with agitation: “Briar’s having another episode. Stomach cramps, bad ones. Your father and I are taking her to the infirmary. Handle the ceremony yourself—you’ve canceled enough of these by now, you’re better at it than anyone.” My lifelong best friend and maid of honor, Liora, was even blunter: “Is your ceremony really more important than Briar’s life? She’s in so much pain she’s nearly blacking out—are you seriously expecting us to stay for the ceremony? Selene, when did you become so heartless?” And my fiancé. I waited a full twenty minutes. All he sent was this: Ceremony’s off. We’ll reschedule. We’ll reschedule. I rolled those words over and over in my mind. He’d used the exact same phrase to dismiss me eighteen times. A bitter laugh slipped through my lips. Suddenly, none of it mattered anymore. The moon still hung at the edge of the sky, pale as a sliver of bone about to shatter. I closed my eyes and silently addressed that moon— Sever it. Every bond I share with them—let it end. Right now. Moonlight flashed behind my eyelids, and a line of silver text crystallized at the center of my vision, visible only to me: Connections severed. Countdown: 72 hours. When the time expires, all who were once bonded to you shall return everything—including their lives. … I opened my eyes, drew a deep breath, picked up the microphone, and walked onto the ceremonial stage. Violets. Everywhere. My bonding ceremony, blanketed in Briar’s favorite flower. Laughable. “My apologies, everyone. Tonight’s ceremony is canceled.” The Northern Realm’s aristocrats exchanged glances, though none looked particularly surprised. “Expected, isn’t it? How many times have they tried over the years? Not once has it actually gone through. If I were the Graves heiress, I’d have stopped showing up ages ago.” “The entire Graves clan dotes on that adopted little sister. Why bother competing? Stepping aside would at least let Selene keep her dignity.” “You don’t understand—Frost operations fall apart without Selene. They’ve tested it more than once. Every time Kael has a falling-out with her, the clan’s holdings take a nosedive. That’s the only reason he hasn’t dropped her.” I descended the stage under the pitying, faintly mocking gazes of the crowd. My lips twitched. This time, it wouldn’t be a mere dip in holdings. I changed into plain clothes and returned to the Graves estate, wanting only to grab a few things before leaving for good. But the moment I pushed open the front door, a procession of people swept into the foyer around Briar, all chattering and laughing. The instant they saw me, every smile vanished at once. Kael’s dark gray eyes clouded with anger, his tone thick with undisguised reproach: “Selene, why didn’t you give any explanation when you canceled the ceremony? You said nothing—now people are going to blame Briar again.” Father cast me a cold glance. “You handled this appallingly. In the past, cleaning up a canceled ceremony never required our involvement. Today, you have thoroughly disappointed me. Issue a statement immediately—say you canceled on a whim, and that it had nothing to do with anyone else.” Liora already had her phone out. “I’ll have the publicist contact the major outlets. If Selene puts out a statement now, we can still get ahead of it. We’ll plant a few narratives online, redirect the discourse toward her—then nobody will even think of Briar…” I didn’t respond to any of it. Not a single word. I simply stared at the silver countdown hovering in my vision. Remaining: 2 days, 18 hours. When the time came, they would lose everything they had. “Selene, what the hell are you staring at?” Kael stepped closer, his impatience reaching its peak. “I’m warning you—if you don’t handle this properly, I can’t guarantee when we’ll schedule the next ceremony.” I lifted my eyes and looked at him for one brief moment. That face I’d once fallen for at first sight now looked like a stranger’s. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a next time. —

“That’s enough.” Briar chimed in at the perfect moment, her voice a breathy wisp, her slender fingers tugging at Kael’s sleeve. “It’s all my fault… I’m the reason Selene’s ceremony fell through again… There are still auspicious dates this month—please, stop pushing it back…” Halfway through her sentence she broke into a fit of coughing. Kael turned instantly, his palm settling on her back, patting gently. “This has nothing to do with you. Don’t overthink it. Your sister can’t live without me—it makes no difference when we hold the ceremony.” “That’s where you’re wrong.” I finally spoke. My voice was so calm it startled even me. Every expression in the room froze at once. I gave the backpack in my hand a little shake. “I’m leaving.” The words had barely left my mouth. Crack— Mother’s palm struck my face with full force, the sharp sound echoing through the foyer. My head snapped to the side. I tasted iron on my tongue. Her hand was still trembling, her nails digging into her own palm. “You dare cause another scene! All these years we’ve spoiled you rotten. How did a perfectly good child turn out so insufferably willful?” “Leave? And go where? So you can set the whole Northern Realm buzzing with gossip, make everyone think we’re playing favorites? Selene, when are you going to grow up? How could I have raised a daughter like you—you’re not worth half of what Briar is!” The taste of blood spread through my mouth. Yes. Every time before, I’d made a scene. Because I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why, when it was Briar who shattered Father’s prized ancient fang crown, they decided I was the one who’d smashed it. I didn’t understand why, even with the estate’s security footage, they refused to believe I hadn’t pushed Briar down the stone stairs. Even the moonflowers I’d planted in the garden that triggered Briar’s allergies had been entered into evidence as proof that I was trying to murder her. And this wasn’t the first time Mother had raised her hand. The last time was only two days ago. Briar had wanted to wear the custom ceremonial gown I’d spent six months preparing for the bonding. I said no. And then—right on cue—she fainted. Mother charged at me, shoved me so hard I stumbled, then grabbed a pair of scissors and, right before my eyes, shredded that gown I’d waited half a year for into ribbons. Over Briar, she and I had been driven nearly to the point of drawing knives. So the old me had fought back with everything I had—demanding that someone, anyone, tell me I was right. But this time, I truly didn’t want to fight anymore. Because I’d finally seen it clearly. I am the incarnation of the Moon Goddess. In all the Northern Realm, only those who forged an emotional bond with me could receive the blessings the Goddess bestowed. The day after I was born, the Graves family—teetering on the brink of extinction—were struck overnight by a string of miraculous windfalls. Their power swelled at breakneck speed until they secured their place as the most powerful clan in the Northern Realm. Father’s chronic illness, already deteriorated to a terminal stage, vanished as if it had never existed. Even the elder who treated him couldn’t explain it. My best friend Liora, inseparable from me since childhood, grew more stunning with each passing year and she became Hollywood’s first werewolf to win Best Actress. And Kael. He had been nothing more than a stray low-rank gray wolf roaming the border territories. No parents. No pack. No surname. He scraped by running a market stall at the border bazaar, hounded by enforcement patrols, beaten up by rival vendors. Until one night, he found me—a little girl lost in a night market. I stared up at his handsome face. In that single instant, I fell for him. From that moment on, he awakened as a White Wolf Alpha, his abilities and influence soaring at an impossible rate. He established the Frost Clan, never once losing a business deal or a territorial dispute, and today stood as the man closest to the Alpha King’s throne in all the Northern Realm. All he had to do was complete the bonding ceremony with me—make me his Luna—and the throne would be his. For over twenty years, they’d held me in the palm of their hands, showered me with love. Kael, above all, had treasured me like something precious. Because of me, they’d gotten everything they ever wanted. And then Briar was brought into the Graves household. And everyone changed. —

Briar performed a textbook-perfect faint right in front of me. The arc of her body falling backward was precisely calibrated—graceful enough to land squarely in the arms of the people who’d rushed over at the commotion. Before anyone could even ask a question, Kael had already stepped in front of me—five fingers clamped around my throat, slamming me against the corridor’s stone wall. “Selene, did you hit her again?” His pupils blazed with the dark-gold pressure unique to an Alpha. “Do you actually think I won’t lay a hand on you?” I didn’t even get the chance to deny it. “Guards!” Father’s roar erupted at the far end of the corridor. “Take her away—lock her in the dungeon. Punish her according to clan law!” The dungeon. Damp, dark, and devoid of sunlight all year round. This was my second time being thrown in here. The memory of the first was still knife-sharp. That night, I’d discovered Briar slipping silently into Kael’s bedroom after dark. When I pushed open the door, she was perched on the edge of his bed, her clothes half undone. I confronted them on the spot. But Briar, eyes brimming with tears, offered her defense: she said she’d nearly been snatched by a rogue wolf as a child, which had given her severe sleepwalking. Subconsciously, she explained, she felt safe near Kael. It wasn’t intentional. My parents and Kael believed her without question. Kael even told her gently that if she was ever scared, she could come find him anytime. Back then, my love for him burned at its most intense. I’d been so possessive that I’d issued an order—no female was to hold a position anywhere in the Frost Clan’s inner circle. So that day I’d slapped Briar across the face without a moment’s hesitation. The price was seven days in this dungeon, with nothing but a bowl of cold porridge each day. They didn’t let me out until I was so starved I could barely stay conscious—and agreed to apologize to Briar. This time, they clearly didn’t intend to stop at starving me for a few days. The heavy iron door groaned open. Father walked in, a cane rod gripped in his fist. Kael followed behind him. “Per the Graves family code, the sentence is thirty lashes.” Father’s voice was frigid. “However, Briar took pity on you and begged me on her knees to use the cane instead of the silver whip. Since the cane is lighter than the whip, the count is raised to fifty.” Crack— The first blow landed across my back. A livid purple-red welt swelled up instantly. After a dozen or so, my skin split open. Every strike after that came with a corrosive, bone-deep burn—mercury. The cane Briar had so “kindly” begged them to substitute had been soaked through with mercury. I could barely hold my human form. When the fifty lashes were done, my entire back and arms were a raw, bloody mess. Thin rivulets of blood traced my spine downward, pooling on the stone slab beneath my feet. My body had long since slipped beyond my control, warped into something half-wolf, half-human—a grotesque thing. I curled up in the corner, gasping in great heaving breaths, shaking all over. Father tossed the cane aside, dropped a single remark—”Utterly incorrigible”—and strode out. Kael crouched down in front of me and unfolded a bundle of clothes. “These are the fresh clothes and ointment Briar prepared for you. Selene, she’s always been respectful toward you. As her older sister, you should be looking after her. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about her?” He shook out the garments and “thoughtfully” draped them over my blood-soaked back. The instant the fabric touched the open wounds— It was as if my entire body had been plunged into boiling brine. The pain hit so hard I curled into a ball in a single convulsion, my spine arching, my lengthened wolf-claws gouging into the cracks between the floor stones. “Always so dramatic. Briar goes deathly pale from her episodes and still doesn’t carry on the way you do.” He stood up, tossed out that contemptuous remark, and walked away. The echo of the iron door slamming faded slowly into nothing. It was a long time before I clawed back even a thread of breath. Moonlight filtered through the single narrow slit above, pale and silent. I closed my eyes and silently addressed that moon— Accelerate. I want to sever all connections faster. Silver text materialized in the darkness: Acceleration engaged. Tomorrow at noon, twelve o’clock sharp, all repercussions will descend. —

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I ran through the toxic haze. My lungs were on fire. I didn’t care. Six hours ago, my mate’s voice had cut through our matebond: “Clara—rogues everywhere, come save me!” So I came. Briars tore my skin. Poison seeped into the cuts. I felt each one—and kept running. My legs stopped feeling like mine somewhere back there. I didn’t care about that either. “Luna—” My subordinate’s voice cracked through the link. “Get out of there! He was never there.” “He’s with Tessa. Watching her try on your wedding dress.” The words stopped me cold. The ground didn’t move with me. Neither did the haze. Just me. Frozen. “CLARA—RUN!” My wolf’s scream ripped through my chest. I turned. Too late. Emerald eyes ignited in the gloom. A blur of fur and fangs erupted from the dark. I threw my arm up— Teeth sank into my throat! … The night stretched into a mindless eternity. Everything dissolved into a blur of blood, rain, and bone-chilling screams. By the time the first cold rays of dawn hit my face, I was a broken, blood-stained mess. But I was alive. And the Clara who loved Xavier was dead. Bzzz. My phone vibrated. A text from Thomas, my most loyal sentinel. “Luna, I’m sorry. Alpha Xavier has been in contact with her the entire time. Last night, he rented out the Peak Penthouse. He’s throwing her a welcome-back gala.” Then came the video. In the clip, Xavier stood before a grand, gilded mirror. He was adjusting a delicate white veil over a woman’s soft brown curls. He was smiling—that same tender, breathless smile he used to give me before we mated. I checked the timestamp. 9:47 PM. While the rogues were tearing the meat from my bones, he was playing dress-up with his ex. My thumb hovered over the screen, a bead of blood from my mangled hand dripping onto the image, staining Tessa’s perfect, radiant smile. It also shattered the lie I’d spent months forcing myself to believe. Six months ago, Xavier had knelt by my dying father’s bedside. He’d sworn on his wolf’s life that he would never see her again. Ended up…a Lie. Every word out of his mouth had been a calculated lie. I dialed his number. It rang for a long, agonizing minute before he finally picked up. “Clara?” His voice was deep, smooth. In the background, I could hear it—the faint, elegant swell of a violin. “Where are you?” I asked, my voice a hollow shell. “I told you,” He sighed, that patronizing tone creeping in. “Rogues blocked the pass. I’m at the border cabin.” “Are you hurt?” “No. Just a weak signal.” He paused, his voice dropping into a low, practiced hum of concern. “Why are you still awake? Are you scared of the storm?” “Come on, Clara. Don’t be so dramatic. You’re stronger than that.” Stronger? I looked down at my leg. The wound still burned. Blood and mud caked the the empty place where the flesh had been. “Does the cabin have a live orchestra, Xavier?” I whispered. The line went dead silent. “The cabin owner has an old record player,” He chuckled, mocking. “Are you really calling to micromanage me, Clara? I’ve had a long day and I’m not doing this with you.” The classic move. Make me out to be the crazy one. The paranoid mate. Anything to escape accountability. “I’m not fighting, Xavier.” “Then be a good girl and go to sleep,” he said, his voice softening again, though the edge remained. “I’ll bring you those lemon scones from Magnolia’s tomorrow. Your favorite.” Magnolia’s lemon scones. They were Tessa’s absolute favorite. I was highly allergic to them. He hadn’t just forgotten—he had never cared enough to remember. “Okay,” I said. It wasn’t compromise. It was giving up. “Love you. Sleep tight.” The line went dead. I stared at the black screen until a notification popped up. It was a new post from Tessa’s private account. A close-up of Xavier’s hand—unmistakable with his heavy, obsidian Alpha ring—tracing the curve of her collarbone. Her caption: He promised that no matter who he married, I would always be his first priority.

I dragged myself into the Peak Penthouse. My jacket was soaked through, sticking to my skin like ice, and my muddy boots squeaked with every step. The security guard stopped me twice, but when I showed him my wedding photo with Xavier, he let me through with a look of pity. I headed for the VIP elevators. Before I could arrive, the doors slid open. Xavier stood inside. Italian suit. Top buttons undone—that effortless, rugged thing he did. Tessa was draped against his chest. White silk dress. Delicate curls. A veil falling from her hair. That was my wedding dress. “Xavier, my feet hurt,” she whimpered, pouting. Without hesitation, my proud Alpha husband knelt on the cold elevator floor, gently lifting her ankle. “I told you not to wear those heels, princess.” “But they’re pretty!” She giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “You used to love watching me dance in them.” “That was before,” he murmured, his voice dripping with affection. “Now, if you hurt yourself, I’ll have to lock you in my room.” Then Xavier carried her heels in one hand, his other arm securely wrapped around her waist. I stood behind a massive concrete pillar, watching them. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, so violent I had to press my hand against the cold stone to keep from collapsing. Then my eyes met Tessa’s. Her gaze swept over my wild hair, my muddy face, and the dried blood crusting on my leg. A tiny, cruel smirk played on her lips. “Xavier,” she said, her voice echoing in the quiet garage. “Look at that poor girl over there. She looks like a filthy stray.” Xavier didn’t even turn his head. He didn’t waste a single glance on the woman who had almost died in a rogue-infested forest for him. “Don’t look at that trash, Tessa,” he said, pulling her closer to his side. “You’ll ruin your eyes.” Trash… I laughed bitterly—silently. That was it. That was what I’d nearly died for. I watched they walked toward the revolving glass doors. Tessa paused, “Xavier, wasn’t yesterday your Mate Anniversary? If you spent the whole night with me, won’t Clara be mad?” Xavier’s footsteps halted. “Why are you even bringing her up?” His voice dripping with irritation. “I just don’t want her to be jealous. She always keeps such a tight leash on you.” “She’s just bored,” Xavier sneered. “Aside from hovering over me, what else does she even do?” He tossed Tessa’s heels to a valet and yanked off his tie to wipe his hands— the same silk tie I’d hand-picked and given him just yesterday morning. “And yet, you still chose her to be your mate.” Tessa pouted, her voice trailing into a whine. “I only mated her cause she was easy. No drama. The pack wanted a trophy Luna, so I gave ’em one.” With that, he tossed the silk tie into a trash can. He had promised to wear it close to his heart. Now, it was buried under garbage. “Tessa, remember this,” he said, pulling her close. “A mate bond is just about politics and pack duty.” “She is fit to be the Luna. But you are the only one I want to protect.” Tessa beamed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Then Xavier pulled her flush against him and kissed her back hard. A dull ache flared in my chest—a pain so familiar it had practically lived there for months. Xavier had always told me it was just the bond echoing his injuries from the training grounds. I bought it all. I was so naive. I thought I was just feeling his physical pain, the way mates do. I’d forgotten that betrayal burns just as hot. Then I felt it—a different kind of ache. Lower. Deeper. My pup…was crying. Hurting. My palm pressed flat against my stomach. Right there, a tiny, fragile heartbeat was fighting to survive. A two-month-old pup. I had planned to tell him during our anniversary dinner last night. But then he told me he was trapped by rogues in the Forbidden Forest of Death. I had driven three hours through a deadly storm, braving the rogue wolf scent, crawling through the mud to save him. I thought he was dying. Instead, he was making out with another woman. Their tangled figures blurred before my eyes, and then, I saw a flash of blue fire. Coming from Tessa’s neck. When my gaze caught The Lunar Tear, my breath stopped. Xavier had bought it at an auction three months ago, proudly telling the media it was a gift for his “beloved mate.” So I waited, day after day, expecting him to give it to me on our anniversary. Now, that very sapphire was glittering around Tessa’s neck. It felt like a physical slap to the face.

The cramping in my abdomen grew sharper, an agonizing tearing sensation that made me gasp. I dragged myself to a bus stop, clutching my stomach as I slid onto the metal bench. A black SUV rolled out of the underground garage, stopping at the red light right in front of me. Xavier was behind the wheel. Then my phone rang. His name flashed on the screen. His voice echoed through his car’s speakers, drifting out of his half-open window. “Hey, babe. The roads finally cleared, so I’m heading home now.” His voice was incredibly warm, dripping with that fake, loving concern. “I got those lemon scones from Magnolia’s for you. They’re still warm.” Through his window, I watched him reach over to brush a strand of hair from Tessa’s face. Tessa giggled, biting into a scone he was holding out to her. “Is it good?” he whispered to her, his lips moving silently. “Xavier,” I gripped my phone, whispering. “What’s wrong? Your voice sounds weak. Did you catch a cold?” “If I told you I was standing outside the Peak Penthouse right now…” I stared at his car. “Would you step out and look at me?” A beat of slience. Then, he let out a dry, forced chuckle. “Clara, stop playing games.” “I went to the Forbidden Forest of Death to save you last night.” I said. His laugh vanished. It was replaced by a cold, harsh growl. “Clara, are you insane? I told you I was safe. Why do you always have to create drama?” “Do you have any idea how much trouble you almost cost me? You really want the pack elders asking questions about why you were out there alone?” So that was all he cared about. Not me bleeding in the woods. Not me almost dying. Just what the elders would say. There was nothing left to say. I wanted to hang up— Then the pain hit. A full-body seizure of it, white-hot and blinding. “Xavier, my stomach hurts,” I whimpered, curling in on myself as a warm wetness soaked through my pants. “Then take some medicine. I’m an Alpha, Clara, not a healer.” his voice was cold. Too cold. At the same time, in the passenger seat, Tessa suddenly gasped, clutching her stomach with a dramatic groan. Xavier’s face went completely pale. “Tessa? What’s wrong? Is your stomach flaring up again?” He didn’t even bother to cover the phone. The raw, desperate panic in his voice sliced right through me. “Xavier… it hurts so bad,” Tessa whimpered. “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to the pack hospital right now.” The SUV roared to life, surging forward. The tires kicked up a wave of muddy, freezing street water, drenching me from head to toe. The call went dead. I slid off the bench onto the wet pavement, my vision blurring into a dark, bloody red. Someone was screaming in the distance, calling for an ambulance, but my mind was already slipping away. When I finally opened my eyes, the harsh smell of bleach filled my nose. A nurse was changing my IV drip, her eyes filled with pity. “I’m so sorry, Clara. We couldn’t save your pup.” “You arrived too late. The hypothermia and the sheer physical trauma… it was too much.” I stared at the white ceiling. So that was it. I waited for the tears. For the anger. For anything. Nothing came. I just felt completely hollow. The nurse sighed softly and slipped out of the room. I picked up my phone. The screen lit up with messages from Xavier. “Something came up at the pack house. I won’t be home tonight.” “I left the scones in the kitchen. Make sure you eat them.” “Clara, stop giving me the silent treatment. You were the one acting crazy last night.” He was still playing his usual game, expecting me to crawl back the moment he threw me a bone. I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened a hidden folder on my phone. Inside was all the evidence my private investigator had gathered six months ago. The lease for Tessa’s luxury apartment, the bank transfers, the hotel bookings. I used to think I would use this to scream at him, to demand answers. Now, I just felt disgusted. I called my family’s lawyer. “Mr. Vance, prepare the divorce papers.” “Luna Clara? Are you sure? What about the asset division?” “I only want what belongs to my family. But every single cent he spent on Tessa? I want it clawed back.” After hanging up, I dialed Xavier’s number. He answered almost instantly. In the background, I could hear the steady beep of hospital monitors. “Clara? Done throwing your tantrum?” His tone was insufferably arrogant. “I knew you’d call.” I looked out the window, my mind clearer than it had been in years. “Xavier, let’s get a divorce.”

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1 I was born with severely hyper-reactive skin. Anything less than the absolute highest tier of luxury fabric sends me into a full-blown allergic shock. Ironically, this medical curse caught the eye of a haute couture label owner. She hired me as the company’s chief quality assurance director. My rule was simple. If I put on a gown and it felt uncomfortable, it had to be remade. Today, I rejected three sample dresses from our newest designer. She completely lost her mind. “Who are you to say my pieces cannot be sold!” “I have a master’s degree in design from Paris. You are a self-taught nobody. You have zero right to critique my work!” “Let me spell it out for you. My mother owns this company. You are making me uncomfortable now, so you can pack your desk and get out!” I gently rubbed my inflamed arms, feeling a massive headache coming on. I really debated whether or not I should tell her the truth. The lead investor keeping this company afloat was my oldest sister. The exclusive fabric supplier was my second sister. The A-list celebrity who originally put this obscure brand on the map was my third sister. The only reason Hollywood actresses flocked here for red carpet gowns was because their talent agency CEO was my fourth sister. The brand got featured annually in the world’s top fashion magazine because the editor-in-chief was my fifth sister. My sixth sister was the best internal medicine physician in the country. My seventh sister was a notoriously ruthless corporate lawyer. And they had both explicitly warned me that if I suffered one more allergic reaction at work, they would bury this company in medical reports and lawsuits. Before I took this job, all seven of my sisters sat me down. “Sloane, if this job makes you happy, we support you.” “But if anyone there makes you uncomfortable, we will make sure nobody in that building ever sleeps comfortably again.” … Camille snatched the rejected dresses off the rack and violently whipped them into my face. The sharp, acrid smell of cheap synthetic dye immediately suffocated me. I pinched my nose and stumbled backward. My voice was completely flat. “Your fabric choices are garbage and your tailoring is sloppy. The seams scrape my skin raw. According to our corporate standards, these do not pass.” “Your mother hired me. If you want me fired, she is in a meeting next door. Go complain to her.” It just so happened that Serena, my third sister, was visiting the office today to negotiate her endorsement contract for the upcoming season. My skin was burning, and I felt nauseous. I figured I would just hitch a ride home with her later. I turned to leave, but Camille lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Stop using my mother to threaten me! You play this manipulative little victim act, pretending you are allergic to everything. It might work on her, but it does not work on a professional like me!” “You think you are so delicate? You think my clothes are uncomfortable? Let’s see what actually happens when you wear them!” Camille practically pinned me against the desk, forcing the cheap gown over my head. I dodged left and right, but the allergic reaction hit me like a freight train. The rough, toxic fabric scraped aggressively against my bare shoulders. A wave of intense dizziness washed over me. My breathing grew dangerously shallow. A few of the other employees exchanged nervous glances. One of them finally spoke up in a quiet voice. “Camille, Sloane really does have a severe condition. She keeps EpiPens and antihistamines at her desk.” “A lot of our wealthiest clients have the exact same autoimmune issues. That is why she tests the garments. If a client has a reaction, we get sued.” Camille’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. “So you are telling me that an elite graduate from Paris is somehow inferior to an uneducated fraud?” She aggressively ripped the collar of my cotton undershirt, rubbing the fabric between her fingers before bursting into manic laughter. “I thought you could only wear top-tier luxury goods? Look at this basic cotton rag she is wearing. We could buy a truckload of this trash for the price of one of my gowns.” She had no idea. This basic cotton was organically grown on my second sister’s private pesticide-free estates. The air in the textile mill was hospital-grade filtered. And the so-called premium fabric Camille was bragging about? My family supplied it. She was just using the cheap, discarded offcuts we sold at a massive discount. The abrasive material kept scraping my skin. A massive cluster of angry red hives erupted across my neck. If I did not get my medication immediately, my throat would close and my organs would begin to fail. I desperately reached for my handbag, but Camille slammed her designer heel down on my fingers. “Trying to run now that your lie is exposed?” “Hold her down. I am going to make her wear my design and drag her into my mother’s office to beg for forgiveness!” The entire design floor went dead silent. The staff just stared at each other. When nobody moved, Camille’s voice escalated into a hysterical shriek. “Do you idiots not understand how this works! You ignore the boss’s daughter to protect a scam artist?” “Fine! The second my mother’s meeting is over, I am firing every single one of you! Let’s see if you ever work in the fashion industry again!” Intimidated by the threat, a junior designer named Brooke stepped forward. Her eyes were cold. “I will help you, Camille.” “She is always rejecting my patterns. Always complaining about my fabric choices. I have been sick of her face for months.” “Let’s make her nice and comfortable.” Brooke grabbed another heavy synthetic skirt and shoved it forcefully into my face. My stomach violently cramped. My wheezing grew louder. My entire body felt like it was submerged in boiling water. I dug my fingernails deep into my own palms, fighting to stay conscious. Just hold on. Every time Serena finishes her business meetings, she always comes to find me. Through the fog of my fading consciousness, I heard the familiar click of Serena’s heels approaching from the hallway. I forced my eyes open and screamed out for her. But my throat was so swollen that the sound came out as a pathetic, raspy croak. Serena paused outside the glass doors, furrowing her perfect brows, and looked toward the design department. Camille reacted instantly. She slapped a hand over my mouth. With Brooke’s help, they shoved me backward into a dark, suffocating storage closet. Camille quickly smoothed her skirt and walked out to greet my sister with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Oh, I am so sorry about the noise. Some of our interns lack basic manners. They get a little too excited when celebrities visit the office.” “You are even more stunning in person, Serena. Did the meeting go well?” Serena barely glanced at her. Her sharp eyes swept the room. She lowered her voice, completely ignoring the compliment. “Is it not working hours? Where is Sloane?” A flash of pure disgust crossed Camille’s face, but she masked it quickly. “What terrible timing. I actually sent her out to meet a client this morning.” “Did you need to speak with Sloane about the new collection? I am the head designer. You can just talk to me.” The lie was painfully obvious. Because of my medical condition, Eleanor and I had a strict agreement when I signed my contract. I never did field work, and I never met clients in person. Serena clearly knew this. She gave Camille a long, piercing stare before pulling out her phone. Three seconds later, a customized ringtone echoed through the room. But the phone was not in my pocket. It was sitting right on my desk. Camille let out a heavy breath, feigning amusement. “Sloane is so forgetful. She left for her meeting without her phone.” “But do not worry, our company driver and another associate are with her. She should be back soon.” “The new gowns are waiting in the fitting room. Please, follow me.” Serena stared at my glowing phone for a very long time. Her beautiful face grew dangerously dark. The atmosphere in the room turned suffocatingly tense. The employees who knew the truth began to sweat, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Jenna, the girl who tried to help me earlier, opened her mouth to speak. But before she could, Eleanor walked in. “Sloane is out having afternoon tea with Mrs. Astor,” Eleanor lied smoothly. “You know how much Mrs. Astor trusts Sloane’s eye. She will be back shortly.” “Why don’t you view the garments with my assistant? I will notify you the second she returns.” I could tell Serena was on the verge of exploding, but she forcefully held it back. Years ago, when I was in high school, I was five minutes late meeting her at the gate. Serena practically tore the school apart looking for me. I felt so embarrassed that I made all my sisters swear a blood oath. They were never allowed to expose our family background or throw their weight around at my workplace. I never imagined that my desire to be independent would end up nearly killing me. Serena gave a tight, clipped nod and turned toward the hallway. Inside the pitch-black closet, the air was entirely depleted. I tried to regulate my frantic breathing. Gathering the absolute last ounce of my strength, I weakly pounded my fist against the wooden door. Thump. Thump. The faint sound echoed across the quiet office. Serena’s head snapped around instantly. “What was that?” Brooke panicked. She grabbed a can of heavy aerosol bug spray and started misting it aggressively near the closet baseboards. “We have a terrible rat problem this week! You should step into the VIP lounge so they do not ruin your designer heels.” The toxic chemical fumes seeped through the door cracks. My lungs completely seized. I let out a broken, wheezing cough. Serena’s eyes flared with absolute fury. “What kind of garbage establishment are you running! Do you not know that Sloane… that some of your employees are terrified of rats?” “I am calling my personal extermination team right now. They will tear these walls open if they have to.” “If this is not resolved, I am terminating my endorsement contract.” Brooke plastered on a fake, terrified smile, begging her to calm down. Serena pulled out her phone and marched down the corridor to make the call. My heart sank into my stomach. Black spots completely covered my vision. Camille was thrilled to see her leave and eagerly tried to follow her. Eleanor’s expression morphed into pure rage. She grabbed her daughter by the arm and yanked her back. “Where did you hide her? Is she in that closet?” Camille blinked, still trying to play dumb. “No! She is probably hiding in the bathroom to avoid working. Why are you blaming me?” Eleanor practically growled. “Camille, I am your mother! Do you really think you can lie to me?” “Do you have any idea how valuable Sloane is to this company!” Eleanor pushed past her and ripped the closet door open. I tumbled out onto the hardwood floor. Cool, fresh air rushed into my lungs, providing a tiny fraction of relief. I dragged my heavy body toward my desk, reaching for the emergency inhaler in my drawer with a violently trembling hand. I pressed the nozzle and inhaled. But instead of medicine, a foul, chemical taste coated my tongue. A blinding pain ripped through my chest. I coughed so hard I could not breathe. The metallic taste of blood filled the back of my throat. Camille stared down at me with cold, dead eyes. A wicked smirk crept onto her face. “See, Mom? I told you she was faking it.” “She claimed she would go into shock if she wore my clothes. Well, I dumped her medicine out and replaced it with tap water and perfume. Look at her, she is still breathing.” “Anyone can fake a panic attack. And those hives? Who knows what kind of disgusting disease she brought into our office.” “You pay this liar a fortune every month just so she can torture your real designers. Call the legal department and have her sued for fraud!” A flicker of hesitation crossed Eleanor’s eyes. Her tone softened slightly. “Stop acting like a spoiled brat! Whether her skills are real or not, you saw how Serena treats her!” “Even our exclusive fabric supplier asked about Sloane by name last week.” “They all share the same last name. They have to be related somehow. Do not ruin my business over a petty grudge.” Camille let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Mom, you are such a coward. We are the ones paying them.” “She is just an actress. If she refuses to sign, it is her loss. There are a million celebrities out there.” “And the supplier? Cut the contract. I can find you ten better textile factories by tomorrow.” “I looked at our financial reports. Their fees are bleeding us dry. This little bitch is definitely taking a secret kickback from them. That is why she keeps failing my designs!” That specific accusation hit Eleanor’s absolute weakest nerve. Her face darkened, and she fell completely silent. She had constantly complained to me about high production costs and low profit margins. What she did not know was that a megastar like Serena would never look twice at a boutique this small. The price Eleanor was paying was already a massive family discount. And those VIP clients who signed massive contracts with us? They were only buying the clothes because my second sister’s anti-allergy fabric was a patented marvel. No other company on earth had access to it. I gasped for air, forcing the words out of my bleeding throat. “Eleanor… you were the one… who begged me to work here.” Eleanor let out a cold sigh and crouched down next to me. “Sloane, I believe your allergies are real. It looks painful. I will have someone call you an ambulance.” A brief flicker of hope sparked in my chest, but the sudden, vicious glint in Eleanor’s eyes extinguished it instantly. “But Camille is right. You and your little supplier friends have been playing me for a fool all these years, taking a cut of my profits.” “Business is tough right now. Transfer all the kickbacks you stole into my account, and I will let this slide.” “Otherwise…” Eleanor cracked open a mini bottle of cheap liquor from the catering cart. She grabbed my jaw and poured it directly into my mouth. “An alcohol allergy is a terrible thing, is it not?” Out of all my triggers, alcohol caused the most lethal reaction. My internal organs felt like they were literally catching fire. Every single breath required a superhuman effort, yet no oxygen was reaching my brain. I could not form a single word. I just mouthed the words, Phone. Transfer. Eleanor eagerly placed my phone into my hand. But before I could unlock it, Camille’s heel came crashing down on my fingers again. “Mom, you are being an idiot! If you give her the phone, she is going to call the cops!” “I already had the legal department draft a document. Make her sign it.” They were so blinded by greed that they failed to notice my phone screen blinking with a faint, pulsing red light. It was an emergency dead-man switch my sisters had custom installed. The moment my biometric vitals dropped to critical levels, an SOS signal blanketed the city. I was hovering on the edge of total blackness. Camille pulled a termination and repayment contract out of her folder and slapped it against my face. “Mom, I hated her the second I walked into this office. The lawyers drew this up yesterday.” “I hired an independent auditor to review every single dollar this company has spent since she arrived. When they find the missing money, this contract legally binds her to pay us back triple the amount.” “Hey, stop playing dead. Pick up the pen and sign it.” My fingers twitched. I wanted to sign it immediately just to get them away from me. Jenna stepped forward, her voice shaking. “You cannot do this. Half our VIP clients have it written in their contracts that Sloane must personally inspect their garments.” “If Sloane leaves, we are in breach of contract. We will owe millions in damages, and we will never get another order.” Camille crossed her arms, smiling with supreme, unearned confidence. “What do you know? When the brand was new, sure, we needed a gimmick like her. But the company is established now. People buy our clothes because of the design, not because of some quality inspector.” “I studied in Paris. My name alone will bring in a flood of high-end clients.” She forcefully jammed a pen into my crushed, bleeding hand. I reflexively curled my fingers, sending a blinding spike of agony up my arm. Camille rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Still trying to stall? You really want to do this the hard way.” She snatched the bottle of liquor from her mother and poured the rest of the burning alcohol directly onto my open wounds. The pain was absolute torture. A silent scream died in my throat. The severe allergic reaction caused my entire face and neck to swell violently. Having lost all patience, Camille physically grabbed my hand and violently dragged it across the paper, forging my signature. “There. Done. You said your relative is a famous actress? Better go beg her for the money you owe us.” The pen slipped from my fingers. My vision went completely black. The voices around me sounded like they were underwater. Camille kicked me hard in the ribs. “Get her out of here. Mark, Jenna, pick her up and throw her down the back stairwell.” The exact second they reached for me, the heavy glass doors to the office completely shattered open.

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